Untouched

22. Monday/ Preparing myself for a life of misery-day

Staring at the rain hitting my bedroom window, I watch the large water droplets smear the glass, blurring my view of the woods. My throat is clogged by loss. This is what it's going to be like now; the view of the woods a daily reminder of where I can no longer go and that my time with Zach is officially over.

My body hurts but my heart hurts more.

The window is slightly ajar and the occasional droplet of rain splashes against the wooden floor of my bedroom. I've been laying in this position for a while, unable to get back to sleep. I'd woken constricted and sweating but it wasn't due to heat rather a hazy dream in which the images were absent but the sensation clung to my skin and my chest, heavy and smothering even after I woke.

My mind is cluttered from analysing the events of last night, both before I staggered out from the woods and after. Last night, my parents helped me remove my wet clothes, wrapped me in a blanket, bandaged my ankle then took me to bed. They each gave me a gentle goodnight kiss on the forehead but throughout they didn't utter a word. Not one question was asked. Not a single comment made. They displayed no signs of anger or annoyance, no signs of anything. At the time, I'd been relieved for the lack of questions, I didn't want to lie more than I had to. Now, I'm left wondering what do they know or think they know?

I pull away the blanket and peer down at my almost bare body. Bruised and scratched from the fall, the swelling under my bandaged ankle is visible but I'm not concerned with my injuries. I'm searching for any evidence indicating I've been touched.

I can't see a physical difference. However, I can feel a difference.

A loud squeak from my window startles me. My mouth opens to scream at the figure opening my window and crawling in. I stifle the sound when I recognise the anti-gravity hair, the constricting clothes, the boy who does not belong here.

'Zach! What are you doing?' I hiss, jumping off my bed. I cry out as a sharp jolt sears through my ankle. Cursing under my breath, I hop forward on one leg, my hands poised to push him backwards. 'You have to go. If anyone catches you...'

My hands press against his chest but he doesn't budge. Instead, he grabs my hands and tugs them out to the side so my arms open wide. Tilting me backwards, he inspects me and his face explodes into a smile. 'I like the look. You should definitely wear this more often.'

Confused, I glance down to see I'm wearing only knickers and a strap top. I'm practically naked.

Shit!

'Eyes up,' I snap.

'How high?' Zach raises an eyebrow in amusement.

'Above the neck.'

'Suits me. The view's just as good.' He leans closer as he holds my hands on either side of my body, our bodies now only separated by a slither of air. My breath catches in my throat, his lips are so close to mine all it would take is a slight movement and they would be connected.

I don't move.

'Kit, are you ok?' Daa calls through the door.

'Don't come in,' I shout back urgently.

'What's going on?'

'Don't come in, I'm naked.'

'I heard a noise and you cried out,' Daa says through the door.

'I just knocked my ankle accidentally.'

'Are you sure you're ok?'

'I'm fine. I'll call you if I need help,' I call back.

The sound of Daa's feet softly padding against the wooden floorboards fades as he returns to his room. Me and Zach both remain fixed in our strange position, listening to ensure he's gone.