Chapter 26 Hope
HOPE
Nadina makes me tea. I’ve never had tea before.
One sip is all it takes for me to fall in love with it. It tastes sweet and the smells earthy with hints of honey and herbs that soothes my senses.
We sit in her big kitchen bathed in dim light and a calming silence.
The unfamiliarity of the room pricks my nerves.
I’m on edge, my gaze lingering on the old refrigerator that is littered with colorful magnets, a tall antique cabinet filled with beautiful china crockery and a kitchen table that has plaid sheet and flower vase as a centerpiece.
The sage green walls blend well with the checkered tiles covering the floor.
There is so much life and color pulsing through this tiny space. I feel like I can breathe properly, not seeing bleakness for once.
“What were you doing outside?” The old woman finally asks, holding a cup and saucer.
I peek at her as I take a sip. “Nothing—”
“Don’t lie to me, girl” she rebukes me. Her gaze cuts sharp like a blade.
My stomach hurts, a sudden pang of anxiety poking me like needle.
“My mother kicked me out,” I tell her.
Our eyes meet and I wait to see judgement but I see something else. A swirl of darkness that is only comprised of fury.
Before I can question her, she beats me to it.
“Where are you staying tonight?”
I shake my head.
She hums.
After a moment, she says, “What about that boy who is fond of you?”
She must be talking about Heath.
I blush. “He doesn’t know.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have my phone. I left it in my room before coming down for dinner—” My sentence breaks, remembering what followed afterwards. The utter, chaotic mess.
“All the rooms in my house are full,” she explains.
I pale. “No. It’s alright. I wasn’t gonna stay here anyway. I’m sorry if you thought—”
She narrows her eyes and I shut up.
“Just today I sent the couch in the living room for repairs,” she says.
I nod, not knowing what to say. She is a stranger to me, but she has been nothing but kind to me.
The fact that she’s letting me sit here and treating me to tea is a fact in itself.
“Do you know the number of your boyfriend?”
I shake my head.
With a sigh, she stands up and slowly walks toward the small table next to the front door. Opening a drawer, she takes out a thick book and returns with it.
“Let’s see if it has the number we need.” She slips on her glasses that are hanging around her neck. They are red in color with an intricate designed frame. They match the color of her long gown.
“What’s his full name?”
“Heath Travon.”
She flips pages, diligently searching for his contact information as if she has it—which I highly doubt.
“Here it is,” she says, her finger pinned at his number.
I check for myself and sure enough his number is scribbled next to his name in a small cursive writing.
“How do you have his number?” I ask.
“I asked him for it.”
Before I can ask her about it,
“The phone is on the table. Go call him,” she says.
I hesitate for a moment, not sure if I want to involve him into this mess, but I don’t have anywhere else to go.
Despite my reluctance, I get on my feet and pick up the old phone.
Punching in the number, I press the call button.
Please pick it up.
Please pick it up.
Please pick it up.
“Hello,” his voice low and husky speaks.
I clutch the phone in both of my hands. A ball of nervous energy rolling into my stomach.
“Is someone there? If you don’t fucking speak up—”
“Uh, Heath, it’s me,” I croak out, my nerves shaking.
Silence lingers for a second before he speaks, “Rose. Is that really you?”
“Yes.”
“Where is your phone? Whose phone is this? What’s happening? Fuck. Is everything okay? I’m coming over right now.”
I stiffen. “No wait.”
“What the fuck happened?”
I bite my lower lip as tears gather in my eyes hearing his voice—it alone breaks my walls and I can’t keep it together. “Can you come get me? If it’s okay.”
“I’m already in my car.” The sound of the door closing filters in.
“Okay.”
“Rose, what happened?” Worry laces his tone.
I sniffle, not knowing what to say to him.
“I’m coming for you,” he assures me.
“Okay,” I murmur.
“Keep talking.”
I wipe my nose with the back of my sleeve. “I can’t. I’m using Nadina’s phone.”
“Who is she?”
“My neighbor. You talked to her once.”
“The old woman?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll pay her bill. Don’t worry about it. Just keep talking to me.”
“Okay.”
“How did you end up at her house?”
Tears roll down like a stream. “My mother… uh… she kicked me out.”
“What?” He raises his tone.
“She screamed at me to get out. I told her I don’t have anywhere to go but she didn’t listen.”
“And now you’re at that woman’s house.”
“Yes. She saw me in the driveway and offered to let me wait here until you come.”
“I’m three minutes away.”
“I’m sorry for calling you this late for something like this, but I didn’t know who else to call.” I explain to him, feeling so helpless. “I don’t have anywhere to go—”
“Rose,” his voice is stern. “I’m fucking glad you called me.”
“Are you sure—”
“I am.”
“Okay.”
“And you’re wrong. I’m your place. You can always come to me.”
I hold the phone tightly in my hands. Relief overcomes my nerves and I relax a little after hearing those words.
Looking over my shoulder, I see Nadina looking through her phone book. If she is eavesdropping, she doesn’t let it show on her face.
“I’m outside,” he says.
I quickly end the call and fling open the front door. My heart beating so fast.
The porch light is enough for me to makeout his figure. Heath is walking up the driveway in hurried steps. When he sees me, he rushes over to me and envelopes me in his arms making me stumble back a little.
Getting tucked against his body hits me so hard that the tears start pouring, followed by a sob that cracks open a wound in my chest. Pain flows out freely, as if the walls don’t exist anymore.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles into my hair. “It’s fine now.”
Footsteps echo behind us and soon a stare burns at the back of my head.
“You arrived quick, boy.” Pride shimmers through Nadina’s voice.
“Thank you for taking care of her,” Heath says, giving me a squeeze.
“I expect she can spend the night with you and you’ll be careful with her,” she says with a hint of suspicion.
“I will be,” he tells her. Then rubbing my back he adds, “We should get going.”
Pulling out of his chest, I wipe away my tears and face her.
Gentle, green eyes stare at me.
“Thank you so much for letting me stay and for the tea. Is there any way I can repay you?”
She stares at me for a long moment, as if she wants to say something, but then shakes her head. There’s so much sadness in her eyes. All for me.
Heath grabs my hand and tugs me towards his car. Before slipping inside, I look at my house and find all the lights on. My parents are awake but they didn’t come out to get me. Their indifference kills a part of me.
As soon as we leave my neighborhood, he pulls the car over to the side of the road.
Tension coils through the thick air of the car, making the small space feel congested.
An immediate burst of tingles scatter like wildfire beneath my skin. With every pulse of panic they spread faster, leaving me breathless and on edge. I’m so close to having a panic attack.
Never mind. It’s already here.
Air escapes my lungs as though the weight of what happened is finally sliding back on me.
The whole scene plays round in my head. Voices, words and actions flicker like a fast-paced movie that I can’t stop watching.
It was a drunk mistake
I wanted to get rid of you
That’s all you are. A mistake.
Get away from me.
Get out of this house
I can’t deal with you.
A sharp sting spreads through my chest, like getting pricked by a thousand needles at once. The pain is excuriating causing dots to appear in front of my eyes.
“Rose, hey!” Heath’s voice filters through my dilemma.
His hands clamp around my wrists and he starts rubbing soothing circles on the inner side, unfurling heat that sears through my shaky senses.
“I can’t…breathe,” I wheeze out.
“It’s okay. I’ll help you.”
I shake my head, growing frantic and more anxious.
“No…” I whisper, ripping my hands out of his hold and clutching my chest. “Air. I need air.”
Heath says something but I can’t hear him above the noise of chaos stirring inside of me. His words are muffled. And no matter how much I try, I can’t focus on his voice.
Voices. There are so many voices.
But the words are the same.
It was a drunk mistake
I wanted to get rid of you
That’s all you are. A mistake.
Get away from me.
Get out of this house
I can’t deal with you.
A cry breaks out of me, desperate and painful, begging to erase those words from my memory that feel like arrows dug deep into my chest that pulling them out would kill me.
Pain intensifies in my chest with every short, little breath I draw in. The weight continues pressing down on me. My body feels light and breakable. I can’t stand it.
In the midst of the storm, I feel my face being cupped by big, warm hands.
Fingers that are rough and callused. They caress my cheeks, softly and slowly, permeating sparks that burn the ropes of anxiety curled around me.
Then, his mouth presses against mine. The shape of his lips, the heat of his breaths and the tenderness of his movements wash me over with a wave of familiarity, so intense and strong, I drown in it.
I stay still, as he kisses my lips. His strokes are deliberately long as they infuse life into me.
His thumbs keep moving over my cheeks, bringing warmth to the skin.
Slowly, my lips start to tingle. Suddenly, an intense rush of sensations erupt, sharp and electric, making the butterflies in my stomach to flutter their wings wildly. Just a moment ago, they were swinging around buzzing with nervous energy.
When he pulls back, I gasp, inhaling a lungful of air—that was much needed.
It takes me a while to realize that my head isn’t humming with thoughts and my heart isn’t scratching the walls to come out.