The Genetic Code

Chapter 25

Then I turned around, released a shaky breath, and ran.

I couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the morning. That girl, and that necklace. I had to see her again, to confirm it.

It was around four o'clock. I had left the chalet with nothing but my phone, and there I was in front of the school for girls, waiting for the bell to ring signaling the end of school.

Young girls in plaid skirts began to stream out of the front gates. Some noticed me, in spite of how much I tried to be inconspicuous, pointing and giggling shyly.  I would've felt embarrassed, but I was too focused on my task to waste time on useless emotions.

There she was. I spotted her, walking out of the gates alone. I discretely snapped a few photos with my phone. I looked at the image, and zoomed in. It was the right necklace, and it really did look like her, now that I thought about it. Of course, the last time I saw her she was only nine, but I could see the resemblance: the porcelain white skin and rosy flush; high cheekbones and chubby cheeks; exceptionally red lips like a cherry; large, round eyes a stunning blue-grey. Was it... Was it really... her? Sara...

"Sterling! Sterling!" I heard the little girl's voice in my mind again, and it was making my head spin. I felt like there was a heavy weight crushing down on my heart and lungs. My chest hurt. I couldn't breathe. I blinked multiple times, trying to get back to my senses. By the time I looked back up, she was already gone.

Next: Her.

I didn't speak to her the whole ride back, because my mind was too occupied. I think she was upset over how I spoke to her as we were leaving the chalet, but I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown at that point. I could tell that she wanted to say something in the coach, but she held back to give me my space, and I was grateful for that.

She was probably so focused on giving me my space that she didn't even notice us get on the same bus, since we're going back to the same neighborhood. She got off the bus prematurely, however, which made me curious, so I got off as well.

No matter how occupied my mind was, I couldn't ignore the nagging voice in my head telling me to follow her to make sure she doesn't get into any trouble. It was late, she was alone, and she's... her, so I found this compulsion to keep her safe.

So I got off from the bus, and what's the first thing I see? She's with that swimmer guy, what was his name...

"Alexander Blackwood!"

Ah, right. For some reason I disliked him. Not because of the two right hooks to my face in the cafeteria, but because of the way she called him. That voice of familiarity, of longing. She's never said my name like that.

The pathetic dolphin was so obviously hammered drunk, with the evidence of his sin dangling right from his hand. The sight of his drunken form revolted me, and the thought of this buffoon even laying a finger on her in his inebriated state made all my muscles tense.

She obviously didn't see him the same way as I did though. The way she looked at him, with eyes full of care and worry — I only wished someday she would look at me like that.

My chest ached, and I didn't know why.

I trailed the two of them from a distance as she helped him back home, clenching my fists and biting the inside of my cheek the whole time. I stayed in the shadows, watching, hurting.

When he kissed her cheek, I nearly broke my cover by running up to him and punching him in the teeth. But I didn't want her to see that, so I took a trembling breath, clenched my teeth together and closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes after a few minutes, and saw her walking towards a secluded street. I told myself to just leave her be, and go back home. I didn't need to concern myself with her. She wasn't mine to be concerned over.

But then, ten minutes later, I found myself fighting three men at once.

Now, as I walk aimlessly down a random street in some part of the city, I cringe and run my hands through my hair in frustration.

"What were you thinking, Crawford?" I mutter under my breath.

I don't know why I'm being like this. I've never felt like this before. Ever since I met her, this girl, this infuriating girl, I've been acting out of character. The character I've so diligently built up for myself, brick by brick, is slowly starting to crumble, fragment by fragment. It's scary. If I let her melt my armor of ice, what will I be left with to protect myself from this big bad world? Being exposed, and vulnerable — that's my worst fear. People would be able to see all the cuts, bruises and scars that I'd kept buried beneath my skin all these years, and knowing the nature of people, they'd just pour salt into my raw wounds and make sure I suffer even more than I already do.

But, at the same time, I want to be able show my vulnerability to someone, someone I can trust. I haven't been able to fully trust anyone since my mom left when I was twelve, until now. I trust her, for some reason. I don't really know why, or understand how, but I do. I know that it's dangerous, trusting someone, laying out your cards for them to see so they can either give you a helping hand or turn around and stab you in the back. Yet, why do I trust her? She's never once said, "you can trust me", or expected anything of me. Maybe that's why I do.

All these feelings... What do they mean?

Why do I always want to see her face, and hear her voice?

Why do I feel warm on the inside when I see her smile?

Why do I get so angry when people cause her trouble, or she gets herself into trouble, or when she just looks at another guy?

That thing inside my chest, the big lump of muscles that's supposed to pump blood through my body and keep me alive, the one that's been dormant for years... I think it's starting to beat again.

For her.