Chapter 24 #2
So, instead, I reach out. Curl my fingers under his chin, and nudge his head even more to the side, tipping it slightly. He sucks in a breath, his cheeks deepening in color. From this new angle, his lashes look longer than ever, fanning his high cheekbones.
His dark hair, having been loosely, messily braided, hangs toward his shoulders, the ends just barely brushing. Baby hairs curl all around his temples. The shirt he wears–black and baggy—droops low, exposing the delicate column of his neck. The faint swell of his Adam’s apple.
“What are you doing?” he murmurs, lips hardly moving.
“Looking.”
“For what?”
I hum. “Not sure.”
Frowning, he removes his head from my hand, and leans back slightly, eyeing me curiously. And with something else I can’t quite pinpoint. Hope, maybe?
“Why are you being nice to me suddenly?” I ask, surprising us both. Sure, Monday, he threw out the offer…but to actually act on it? Hell, to go above and beyond in making an effort to cheer me up and get me out of my head?
He wants something.
My chest twinges at the thought.
And yes, I’m well aware how hypocritical of me that would be to complain if that is the case.
Eden’s jaw tightens with his audible swallow, shoulders dropping. In his lap, he wrings his hands. Shrugging, gaze downcast, he says, “I guess I just got used to you harassing me all the time. And…”
“And what?” I rush out impatiently, feeling my heart speed up.
A moment passes, then, “You looked really sad when I picked you up Monday.” His face reddens impossibly more. He still won’t look at me. Instead, he focuses on some loose thread in his pants that he twists and twists and twists around. “It doesn’t…suit you.”
“Sadness?”
“Yeah.”
Oh.
He finally lifts his gaze, our eyes locking once more.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I say, my voice raspier than usual.
He nods, eyes flitting around my face.
“You look sad all the time.”
He frowns.
“It doesn’t suit you either.” A small smile quirks my lips, probably the most genuine one I’ve given in a very, very long time.
My body seems to buzz with this knowledge—this awareness I can’t escape—and I can feel my hands growing clammy. My throat swelling. And still, I don’t let it send me running. Send me hiding. For once, I let someone see what no one else gets to.
Something I can’t even bring myself to draw out when I look in the mirror.
Perhaps it’s because Eden’s so…so good, while I’m anything but.
He’s pure and sweet and innocent in a way I never got to be. And that makes him…
Safe.
Until now, I’ve only ever felt that with Vale. And to some degree Tillie, and that took years.
But there’s something about Eden…something that has my insides twisting up with this…strange, yet familiar yearning. A devastation I can’t quite put a pin on but am all too aware is there. Inside me, this…this hole in my chest that has existed for as long as I can remember.
“I always wanted a brother,” I hear myself whisper from a great terrible distance.
Eden’s eyes go big and round, his lips parting. Something flashes in his gaze, something I can’t bring myself to inspect close enough to try and figure out.
So, before he can drum up a response, before this moment can get anymore heavy, I whip around, grab the laptop, and click Play on the next movie queued up.
It’s not until much, much later, when we’re reclined against a mountain of pillows, watching Jennifer’s Body on the laptop propped between us, that Eden whispers back out of absolutely nowhere, with no preamble whatsoever, “I didn’t want…a brother. But now that you’re here…”
The bell rings, yanking me from the memory.
Fifth period.
Lunch.
Just like the last two days, I can’t bring myself to enter the cafeteria. Sure, I’ve caught sight of Vale since returning to school, but only from a distance. And each time, I found myself spinning around and booking it in the opposite direction before I could even really process why.
There’s just this…this prickle at the back of mind I can’t ignore, urging me to be patient. Play it cool. Make him miss me a bit before executing my next move.
At least, that’s the excuse I’m going with until this weirdness passes, and I’m back to my normal self. Because when I get like this—when my brain gets noisy, and I start doubting myself—things can quickly turn sour.
Very, very sour.
More sour than the stench I carried last week, when I didn’t get out of bed for three days.
If I was still at Ashwood, it’d be no biggy. They have procedures in place for this sort of thing. Losing my marbles at the slightest inconvenience is expected.
But out here, in the wild, wild west that is civilized society, it’s more critical now than ever that I practice some self-restraint. Keep my guard up. And not succumb to whims of fancy.
My meds might mellow me out ninety-nine percent of the time, warding off the thoughts that would have me spiraling face-first into a padded cell. But there are some things nothing can touch.
What those things are…I have no idea.
That’s the conundrum of it all—it’s the not knowing that keeps me sane.
That much I do know.
If I look too closely, I’m as good as cooked.
So, for now, I wait.
It’s torturous, sure but my freedom—not to mention my carefully planned future with Vale where we live happily ever after—quite literally depends on it.
As the hallways empty out, I find myself wandering toward the library as planned, only to change my mind at the last second when I come upon the stairs.
Don’t do it…
Don’t do it…
I do it. Why? Beats me. Maybe I’m not as helpless against tempting fate as I thought.
I jog up two flights, cut a sharp right, and—
“Vale,” I breathe.
The bathroom door swings shut behind me. Frozen, I stare wide-eyed at the stony profile of the figure standing over the sink.
I wish I could say I’ve been avoiding this bathroom just as much as I’ve been avoiding Vale elsewhere, but the truth is…
I’ve spent many a time here since returning to school, listening to music, angrily scribbling in my diary, and maybe, just maybe hoping against all logic and rationale that Vale would show.
Despite knowing how unlikely it would be for him to ever step foot in this bathroom again.
Not unless he wanted to risk running into me…because he’s been just as lost without me as I am without him.
Vale hangs his head as his fingers whiten around the sink’s edge. He looks a little…stressed.
Chewing my lip, I flit a glance over my shoulder, debating what to do. I know what the smart thing to do would be, the thing I’ve been doing since Monday anytime I nearly ran into him…
But if the last few months proved anything, it’s that when it comes to Vale, I’m a tad bit stupid.
Stupid in lo-ove, more like…not that it makes any difference.
Let’s be real—it was only a matter of time before I got fed up with this limbo we’ve been in. With this not knowing…
Yeah, yeah, not knowing is good for me. Well boo-fucking-hoo. Two things can be true at once—I read that somewhere once. Or heard it. Maybe from a therapist?
Abruptly pushing away from the counter, he marches this way. No, toward the exit. I try to get my feet to move, but it’s no use. I’m as helpless to flee as a butterfly trapped in a spiderweb.
With his head still down, face downcast, it’s impossible to even guess where his mind’s at. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I finally mastered the art of invisibility with how unfazed he seems by my presence.
As Vale draws near, I hold stock-still, bracing for him to slip past me without a word.
Does any part of you miss me? I ache to ask.
Does any part of you crave me like I crave you?
Were you worried?
Are you sorry?
Do you regret it?
My fingers clench into fists at my sides, my eyes falling shut.
I’m practically vibrating with the restraint it takes not to reach for him.
Save for my thudding heart and Vale’s measured approaching footsteps, it’s so quiet it’s uncomfortable.
The tension—the anticipation as he draws near—so thick, I feel like I can’t catch my breath.
Just as he goes to brush past me—brush being considerably generous, given how much of a berth he’s able to give me to slip past—and I inhale, opening my mouth to say something, the tell-tale click of the PA System pierces our little bubble of silence. Followed by a series of low toned beeps.
Vale lets out a string of curses, and I whip around to face his back, about to ask what’s wrong, when a robotic voice fills the room, reciting an automated message.
“Attention, all faculty and students. This is not a drill. Please follow lockdown procedures. Lock all doors, turn off lights, and remain quiet and out of sight. Stay in your location until further notice.”
My eyes widen as the message is repeated, followed by another long droning beep.
Vale expels a harsh breath. Then, for the first time in nine days, he graces me with his voice.
“What the fuck did you do now?”