Chapter 16 #3
She tries to hide her smile as I hand it back over to her. She takes it and smiles so shyly as she looks down at it. I’m not going to recover from this.
I admit, “I thought I fucked up by doing it.”
She shakes her head. “No, it was the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me.”
Her eyes search mine, and I stare back, feeling my heart pound in my chest. It’s competing for the fucking Olympics in there. Fuck, I’m a goner for this girl.
She looks at the puck. “It means a lot.”
I grin. “Stanley said it’s a token of love.”
She nods. “It feels like it.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, holding on to it. “I –– I––”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t.
My shoulder pulls when I adjust on the bed.
“Fuck.”
I lie back. I adjust. The shoulder screams. I mutter, “Sorry.”
She touches my arm. The pads of her fingers are right above the bicep.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“You really don’t remember Halloween night?”
She shakes her head.
“Shit,” I mutter. The burning finally ends. “I told you about my injury that night.”
“You’re injured?” she asks sadly. Her voice goes up at the end, her hand goes a little tighter on my arm, her eyes get a little wider, and the worry in her face makes me feel things I do not have the bandwidth to feel right now, so I push them down, and I smile at the ceiling.
“It’s not that bad. I haven’t told anyone, so you can’t say anything.”
“But — Blue, that’s not — why? Why haven’t you told anyone?”
I grin at her.
“I’m fourth round.”
“What?”
I chuckle.
“Aw, yeah. We’re going to have this conversation again.” I look at her. “How about I tell you tomorrow?”
“Why tomorrow?”
I sit up and look down at her. Her hair on her pillow. The puck on her chest. The hoodie swallowing her. The worry still on her face. The thread on the bedspread she has been picking at this whole time. The careful tilt of her head.
“Tomorrow over breakfast. I should probably go so you can sleep.”
“Oh.”
The oh is small and disappointed. I almost sit back down. I look at the puck against her chest, and I think — that can keep her company every night, that can be the small thing she sleeps next to until I am the thing she sleeps next to — and I stand up.
She hesitates.
She looks up at me.
“Um. Blue?”
I look at her. “Yeah?”
“You could stay,” she offers.
I hesitate. “You don’t mind?”
She shakes her head. “No, not at all.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to––”
“Are you sure?” She tilts her head. The corner of her mouth pulls. The tease is so small and so brave that I want to kiss her. “You can run. There’s still time.”
I grin. “No, I’m not doing that anymore.”
She stares at me. She doesn’t believe it. I don’t blame her. I have been lying for years.
I nod. “I promise.”
“Why?”
I lightly laugh. “Conversation for another night.”
“No, tell me. I want to know.”
I lie back down on the bed on my back. She lies down next to me on her side, facing me, her cheek on her hand again, the puck between us on the mattress.
I say, “I missed you these last two years.”
“You missed me?” she mocks.
I nod. I turn my head to look at her. “Yeah. I didn’t realize it until you came to the party.”
“Oh,” she says.
“And you had a boyfriend, and I thought…fuck.”
“You thought fuck?”
“I thought fuck.”
“I broke up with him.”
I look at her. “The guys told me. Why?”
“Because I saw you and so many things came flooding back to me.”
I think about that for a moment.
“Have you had a girlfriend these past two years?”
I look down and smile at her.
“What?” she asks nervously.
“You asked me this on Halloween.”
She rolls her eyes. “I blacked out drunk, so pretend this is a brand new conversation. Please.”
I grin. “No, I haven’t.”
“Not even one?”
I shake my head with a big smile. “No.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “You said you were coming to Camden after two years.”
A long beat.
“You waited for me?” she asks.
I shake my head slowly as I look at her. “I wouldn’t say that, Melly. I think you’ve been waiting for me.”
She tucks her face onto her hands and smiles. “I’m happy you’re here.”
I look at her. The hoodie. The hair. The puck on the mattress between us, half on her side, half on mine.
“Yeah, me too. Should we try to sleep?”
She nods.
I get up. I cross to the wall switch and turn off the light. The room goes dark except for the streetlight coming in through the blinds in stripes. I make my way back to the bed and slip under the covers. The sheets are warm where I’ve been laying.
“Hi,” she whispers.
The puck is right next to her, against her cheek almost, and it is the cutest fucking thing I have ever seen in my life, and I think there’s no going back after tonight.
I have crossed into a new territory, and this is what death feels like.
I killed a piece of me tonight that needed to die years ago.
I’m lying in Melly Sorcha’s bed in the dark, watching her hold the puck I gave to her against her cheek.
“Hi.”
I lie on my side, facing her. I can just make out the shape of her in the streetlight stripes.
“Are you really sleeping with the puck?”
She nods.
“Forever.”