The Wide Wide Ocean

Chapter 20

Evie was in my bed. She was in my bed and I did not know why. As I walked home because I missed my bus, exhausted from the day of school, my wrist cramping, I opened the door to my room only to find her laying in my sheets. Sleeping.

Her fluttering lashes, opened lips and hair spilt all over my sheets. Her chest rising and falling calmly and the curve of her body under the blanket.

Only when I felt my cheeks heating, I closed the door quietly, retreating. I walked into the living room, voices from the TV spilling into the hallway.

Owen, I hissed.

He was sitting on the couch, his ankles crossed, his feet on the table as if he was about to have his dirty shoes for dinner.

Obnoxious little douche.

What is Evie doing here, I hissed at him.

Owen apparently did not own a shirt. Because otherwise, I could not find the reason as to why he was bare-chested while my best friend was in the apartment. 

Shouldn't I be asking you that, he scrunched his brows together.

I tugged on his ear until he squealed in protest.

Did you do anything to her, you moron, I asked in a fit of rage.

No, you witch, why would I, Owen exclaimed swatting my hand away.

I put my hands on my hips and glared at that creature, hoping that my stare would turn him into stone.

She came, upset about somethin', so I offered her tea. She wanted to wait on you in your room, he grumbled.

I was silent for a moment, contemplating.

Why was she upset, I asked, sitting next to him.

I dunno, he shrugged.

I nudged him.

Owen.

I really don't. She didn't seem like she wanted me to ask, M, Owen said.

I believed him. Evie barely spoke when she was upset. And if she really fell asleep it only meant that something horrible had happened.

She'll be fine, M, Owen said.

I wanted to believe him. I looked at the TV, the meaningless telenovela staring back and said:

You can't know that.

Owen stayed until I was too tired to think about what had happened to her.

We are virgins, Evie blurted out.

My head was empty. Shocked by her words. I said nothing. I couldn't open my mouth. She was blushing and I... felt my cheeks heat up.

Do you... do you think, she stuttered, sighing.

I took her cold hands in mine, watching her dishevelled form under the morning Sun. Her pale skin and pink fingertips gained their natural colour with the warmth. I told her:

Breathe.

Evie breathed in, her chest rising and falling, her mouth shaped into a perfect 'o'. I smiled encouragingly as she determinedly looked at me.

Do you think... there is someone out there, who would wait for me, Evie asked.

Yes, I told her immediately.

Don't lie.

I wasn't. But she was scared. And there was so little you could do for Evie when she was scared. No truth, no lie could be said. Her worries, when there were ones, were great and somewhat inescapable. Offering her comfort, impossible.

Tell me a truth, Evie, I asked of her then.

Missy, she began, I ought to wait, wait to make love right, she whispered.

My heart skipped a beat. We've never talked about these things. We talked about the things which worried us and fascinated us but never about...

I frowned.

Why, I asked.

Because Lord, she started but stopped herself.

Because Father Jacob...

She couldn't finish that sentence either.

Evie, do you want to be with Ryan in that way, I asked her slowly.

Those deep green eyes looked at me, mutely, worry and fear overshadowing their beauty. As if she was trying to contemplate what my opinion would be of her after her answer. She nodded. Not even daring to say a simple 'yes'.

I gulped.

Making love doesn't have to be the way they say, Evie, I told her gently.

A strand of hair fell from behind her ear. She watched me, holding onto me with a gaze. I felt her soul reaching out to me, trying to find comfort. I could hear the silence in her mind as she listened.

A touch can be anything you want, love, I said.

The strand got caught in her lashes. I tried to breathe. Couldn't.

It can be a caress, a slap, a grip...

Her hair moved as she blinked. A warm feeling came over me.

A kiss can be a friend's favour, a lover's bond or a soulmate's hand.

I lifted my hand, grasping the strand between my fingers. I needed to be there for her.

Making love can be erotica, we've been warned about, an invitation to the most intimate parts of your soul or a simple deepening of feelings, I told her.

I tucked my friend's hair behind her ear, grasped her hands and smiled. God would never ever punish her. Not for such a thing and not her. She was His perfect child, in His own image, an embodiment of kindness and wonder. I did not understand how come she was here with us mortals. And to think there was any doubt in her mind...

Don't be afraid to live your life along your rules. If you feel something... act on it. I beg you. Or else you will regret it for the rest of your life and you are the last person who should regret such a thing, Evie.