24. Sadie
Twenty-Four
Sadie
I shift in the bed, my hand moving to the other side, and it’s cold. He said he wouldn't be here in the morning, and he meant it. Even though I knew he meant it, it still hurts that he left. Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and be able to see the face of the person who’s been making me smile.
I lie there for a moment staring at the ceiling, looking at the morning light which comes through the curtains, making patterns.
My mind goes to Ghost, wondering if there is anything I can put together about who he is.
I've been thinking about this for days, there have been names going through my head. The timing of the silences, from both of them, at once, and on the same day. Neither of them spoke to me, and I wonder if I’m right.
How can they both be the same person?
Miles sits across from me at Grounds every morning. He walks the same campus I walk; he uses the same library. He has been at the same table, in the same proximity, since Lileah pulled our two groups together and the border between them dissolved.
Ghost said you see me almost every day.
I close my eyes letting all the thoughts move through my head. I’m trying to put the pieces together; there has to be something I can link them with.
Miles has two laptops open every time I see him. In the library, and at Grounds. He’s always running things on the computers that I've never asked about because it never felt like my business.
I open my eyes, and I sit up. I’m going to give myself a headache thinking this over and over again. There’s nothing I can pinpoint that connects them.
On the nightstand, where my phone usually sits, there's a bracelet. It’s different to the one I’m already wearing.
It’s a gold chain, with a tiny camera charm, the lens is detailed, and the body of the camera is exactly like my camera. How is it that Ghost knows me better than anyone else ever has?
I pick it up.
Maybe I believe it because some part of me already knew where the knowledge came from. I mean Ghost hacked into my laptop, my phone, and broke into my dorm. If he wants to know something about me, I'm sure he’ll find it.
Maybe they are the same person, maybe not. I think this is going to be a long day with me overthinking it.
I fasten the bracelet around my wrist, and it looks so nice paired with my violet one.
The reasoning lines of Ghost and Miles meet up too cleanly to be coincidence. The way it feels identical when I’m being watched by Ghost and being looked at by Miles. I don’t know how to explain it; there’s something about it that feels so familiar.
Yep, I’m definitely going to go crazy. I sit on the edge of the bed. The violets are fresh on the counter, and I can’t help but smile. No matter what is happening in his life he’s thinking about me.
I look at them from here, purple violet, precisely placed, with fresh water, and think about a man who sits across from me at Grounds every morning and has apparently been coming into my locked room since September to leave flowers.
My eyes glance over to the camera lying on the nightstand.
I reach for it slowly, like it might burn me. I know it won't, it's my camera, and I've had it long enough now. The screen lights up when I turn it on, and the last photo is still open. It’s us, from last night.
He’s behind me, his black mask covering the top half of his face, with his black t-shirt still on.
One gloved hand is gripping my neck, the other holding the camera out.
My back is arched, with my hair falling over one shoulder, my face is turned just enough that you can see the flush on my cheek and my parted, swollen lips.
My eyes are half-closed, my mouth open on a moan he must have captured the exact second the shutter clicked.
I look at the way the light hits us and makes everything look raw, filthy and intimate at the same time.
I stare at it and heat floods my face and rushes straight down between my legs.
My pulse kicks hard in my throat. I can still feel him inside me when I look at this picture, the stretch, the weight of him, and the way he held my throat while he fucked me.
Seeing it like this, frozen, and permanent, makes my thighs press together tighter.
My breath turns shallow. One finger traces the edge of the screen over the curve of my own back, over the place where his hand is gripping me.
I should delete it, but I can’t. I keep staring at it, my cheeks burning, my body already responding.
The memory of how hard I came for him crashes over me again, and a soft, helpless sound escapes my throat.
I’m wet just from looking at it. From knowing that somewhere, he has this same image, and it’s proof of exactly how badly I needed him last night.
I bite my lip and set the camera down carefully, still open at that photo, then fall back against the pillows with my heart racing. I already want him again.
One thing I will say, today I’ll find out who Ghost is, even if I have to remove the mask myself.
***
I have practice today and I’m feeling really good about it. I’ve no idea why, but my mind is feeling so much more free. I don't know if it’s because Dan is finally helping me, or because Ghost came over last night. Whatever the reason, I'm happy about it.
I warm up on the floor, running through the opening sequence slowly, feeling where each movement lives. Debussy plays in my head without the actual music, I've run it enough times that my body has memorized the timing, the breath points, and the places where the music drops and I drop with it.
Coach Pearce watches from the side without saying anything, which means she's seeing what she wants to see, and I think that helps me move. When she’s angry or annoyed with me about my movement, it always makes me tense on the floor. But not today, today I feel free.
At the end of my routine, I smile because I think this is the best I’ve ever done. It feels so good.
I move to the beam, this one I’m still working on. There are a few movements I need to be better at. Anyone watching me for the first time won’t notice anything wrong, but I know. I know about the slight imbalance when I land on my feet, I notice the small details which I’ll be marked down on.
I stand beside the beam, take in a deep breath, and get ready. I can do this, today is the day I can do this.
The turn sequence hits clean on the first attempt. Then again. Then a third time, each repetition building confidence, making me feel like I can do it.
"Elliot." Coach Pearce's voice carries across the gym. "That's what I want every time." I smile at her, giving her a nod. From her, that's everything and I can already say today is going to be amazing.
Juno catches my eye across the mat and mouths something that I interpret as finally, which makes me laugh in the middle of a beam routine which is not ideal but also feels amazing.
It seems like I’ve been here for a long time, which if I look around, I have. A lot of others have left who came after me, but I didn’t want to leave until I’m happy with my routine. I know I can do better and I was going to make sure I give it my all.
For some reason, it feels like somewhere I belong today, it might be because I've had a good day, but I’m also enjoying the quiet, no loud voice from everyone else in the room. I run the floor piece twice more. It’s just me and the empty gym.
At the end I stand in the middle of the floor and smile. Sadie, you can’t make it any better than this, I tell myself. That’s the moment I walk over to my gym bag, leave, and cross the field to meet up with the girls at Grounds for some food before class.
As I cross the field I stop when I see Miles.
He's outside the library; he hasn’t seen me yet.
He’s coming down the steps with his jacket on and his hands in his pockets.
The bruising on his face has yellowed at the edges, he’s healing which is good.
His face is way too good looking to have marks on it.
He looks up, and smiles as he walks over to me. He stops close enough that I can see the full extent of his face, the eye is still slightly swollen at the corner, the cut along the cheekbone healed to a thin line. I look at his face and don't look away.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi."
"You look better," I say, which makes him smile.
"Felt worse," he says.
"I believe it," I joke, and I want to ask him why he’s ignored me, but the words aren’t coming out.
I don’t know how to start the conversation without it sounding like I’m one of those girls who wants an answer for everything, but I’m not that girl.
We had sex and he never spoke to me again. I should be shouting at him.
"I'm sorry about the other night, canceling our plans," he says. "I couldn't…something came up that needed my full attention."
"Are you okay?" Fucking hell Sadie is that the best you can do? Shout at him, tell him he’s an asshole.
"Getting there," he says.
Again, this is where I should say more, ask more, but no, the only thing I can say is, “Are you going to Grounds?" I ask.
He looks at me for a moment. "Yeah," he says.
I nod, then I take a breath. "Okay. I’m walking that way too.” I point in the direction and see Mason and Declan walking over laughing about something.
“Hey Sadie,” Mason says nodding, and I say hello, then start walking towards Grounds.
Mason wraps his arm over my shoulder. “So how’s training going?
” I look past him to Miles which makes Mason laugh.
“Don’t worry he won’t be upset I’m touching you.
” Mason leans in closer and whispers. “Just give him some time.”
I don’t say anything back to him but thank Declan for opening the door for me. Without being asked the three of them join us at the table.