16. Chapter Sixteen #2
He carefully slips the other three rocks back into the bag, sets the bag down by his side, and picks up his notebook.
I let myself gently roll the rock with my thumb as he writes.
It’s more than just dark blue, I realize.
When the light above catches on it, there are little specks of violet, miniscule fissures of a brighter blue, and swirls of a blue so deep it’s nearly black.
It reminds me of the galaxy. Of the stars.
I’m suddenly 13 years old in the bed of Keaton’s pickup truck - the truck Kellan always called his ‘redneck disgrace’ that wasn’t allowed to be parked out front.
We had driven over an hour with my new telescope, Creed and Radiohead and Linkin Park playing on the radio, Keaton’s smile a mile wide.
I had never seen the stars before - not anything like that.
It was nearly impossible in the city. With my telescope, I could manage a few specks here and there, but nothing like the pictures from my textbooks or the videos on the TV.
But that night, in the bed of that truck, Keaton had shown me.
He had let things be quiet when I went quiet and let me ramble when I needed to ramble.
He pointed out constellations and told me fantastical stories about their namesakes.
He didn’t tell me we had to go back until I was ready for it myself, when dawn was breaking along the edge of the sky.
I had a lot of good days in the early years after my rescue, but that night was something different. It was the night I realized there was a difference between believing you were free and feeling like you were.
I had finally felt free that night.
Has Matt seen the stars since coming here? Since that collar was taken off his neck?
Does Matt feel free yet?
When I look back at him, Matt is showing me that he’s written more beneath his words from earlier: MY FAVORITE . He points to the rock in my hand to make sure I know he means this one.
“It’s a really good favorite,” I tell him. “Reminds me of the night sky. The stars.”
He nods in agreement before putting his notebook in his lap to write again.
This one is quick, his eyes darting up to me like he’s afraid he’ll lose my attention.
I keep my eyes on him to show him he won’t.
His shoulders relax a little, his writing slowing toward the end of whatever he’s written.
The pacing shows in his letters when he turns the notebook to me again, the first word a little crooked and wobbly, the last two as neat as his letters usually are: KEEP IT HERE?
I read the words over three times before slowly blinking up at him. “You want to keep this one here? Your favorite?”
He hesitates, looking at me like - fuck, like maybe he thinks I’m judging him?
“You can,” I hurry to say. “Of course you can. I’d be honored for you to keep it here. I’d make sure it was safe. I just - I wanted to make sure I was understanding you correctly. I didn’t want to assume.”
What I really want to ask is why?
Why would you not want to keep your favorite with you? Or in your room? Why here? Why with me?
Why do you trust me so much?
He fiddles with his pen for a few moments before carefully writing something. When he shows me the next set of words, he won’t look at me, his eyes trained off to the side: FOR HIDING.
I don’t know what breaks my heart more, the words and how much they mean, or the little wobble in his bottom lip as he waits for me to… what? Deny him? Make fun of him? Reject him?
“Hey. Hey, Matt?” He carefully looks at me, teeth biting down on his bottom lip like maybe he’s trying to keep that wobble under control.
I smile at him. It’s small, but it’s genuine.
I hope it’s filled with even half the warmth I’m feeling knowing how much he trusts me. Knowing that he feels safe with me.
I lean forward, putting the rock between my thumb and forefinger so I’m showing it to him.
“I’ll keep this safe. Just like I will always keep you safe.
No matter why you come here, no matter if you’re just coming to hide, or if you want to talk like this, or if you’re doing fucking jumping jacks in the corner.
I don’t care where you sit, or what you eat, or if you throw paper balls at my head.
Matt, I don’t even care if you steal my licorice. I’ll keep you safe. Always.”
He blinks fast. Hard. Over and over. He carefully places his hand over mine so the rock is sheltered between us. He gives my loose fist a barely-there squeeze with his trembling fingers.
And then he smiles.
It’s all watery, matching his eyes that are about to overflow with tears, but it’s a real smile. A beautiful, warm, real smile.
When he pulls his hand away, he takes the stone with him, tucked carefully in his own fist. He signs, Thank you, making his motions bigger, making the statement more important.
I don’t have time to respond to it before he’s pointing at me and following it with another sign - his wrists crossed in front of his chest, both hands curled into fists, settling there for just a second before he starts to pull them apart, twisting his wrists at the same time so the inside of his fists are facing me by the time his arms have separated completely.
I don’t know it.
I’ve never hated myself more for not knowing something.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t-”
He waves a hand for me to stop, his smile getting firmer instead of faltering with disappointment like I had expected. He checks to make sure I’m watching him before slowly fingerspelling, S-A-F-E.
“Safe,” I echo, my voice cracking a little. I mimic the movement he had made before and try to say the word again, but it comes out more of a whisper, “Safe.”
His smile goes a little crooked before he reaches out and takes my two fists.
I let him move them around until my wrists are crossed again, watching as his slim fingers move across the backs of my hands and over my knuckles.
He tucks my thumbs in, the S shape instead of the A. I forgot to keep that in mind.
When he pulls back and nods in satisfaction, I sign it again, this time the right way. “Safe.”
He taps my chest, signs, Thank you, then, Safe.
It hurts - how good it feels as the meaning sinks into my chest, as it wraps itself around my heart. It’s amazing, it’s something I never thought I’d get to feel, and it hurts.
“Yeah,” I whisper, knowing my voice would shake if I tried to be any louder. “You’re safe with me. I’m safe. I promise you.”
He smiles and it’s another burst of that sunshine I’ve only gotten glimpses of, still just peeking out from behind the clouds, wary, a little wobbly, but so damn warm.
So damn warm.
He could set the world on fire with that if he’s not careful. Maybe I’ll tell him that one day, when he’s not so scared of it. Or maybe I won’t tell him that at all. Maybe I’ll let him burn this whole world down. Maybe I’ll just stand by his side and keep him safe as he does it.
Music? he signs
I grin.
“Yeah. Let’s listen to some music.”