Chapter 18
I woke up first at the buttcrack of dawn. I wouldn't have normally known this, but there was a window literally right above my head. The world was tinted blue and I could only see black silhouettes of trees.
You know how in books when people always mention how they didn't know where they were when they woke up for a moment before it all comes rushing back to them? Yeah, that never happens to me. I, unfortunately, didn't have a moment of ignorant bliss before I remembered all the shit that happened last night. I also, fortunately, remembered what happened after that. My emotions were currently mixed. Why was being a hormonal teenager so hard?
I wanted to leave before anybody else woke up, but I figured that it was going to be difficult, what with the way Marco and I were positioned. Somehow we'd moved during the night so I was mostly on top of him with our legs intertwined, my head above his strongly beating heart, and me clutched to him with his arms around my waist. I had to say, it was pretty comfy. A guy could get used to this.
I lifted my head and looked at Marco's face. He was out cold. His mouth was hanging open, and he was even snoring softly. I could see most of his freckles in the morning light. It made me want to count them.
One, two, three...
What time was it? I didn't even know. I wasn't very good at using the light either. I wasn't exactly good with nature.
... ten, eleven, twelve...
Did my parents know that I was gone? Did they care? Most of me was sure that Mom did, but I wasn't sure about Dad. I doubted Connie knew the difference between not seeing me all night and me being out of the house all night. Mikasa probably didn't care either way, and I wasn't sure about Eren.
... twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight...
How long was I welcome here? Marco's family seemed really nice, and I was pretty sure that they wouldn't be able to outright tell me to get out, but that didn't mean I wanted to overstay my welcome. Shit, I'd just sleep on the dock if it led to that.
... thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two...
At thirty-seven I gave up. "Jesus, Marco. You have a shit ton of freckles," I muttered. He didn't even twitch. Some hair was over his eyes, so I reached up and brushed it back off of his face. He murmured something unintelligible and shifted his head around. A soft smile worked its way onto my face.
I let myself look for only a few more moments before I pulled away slowly so as not to wake him up. I was really clumsy at getting up, especially since I had to crawl over him to get off the bed because of the wall.
Getting out without being heard was surprisingly easy. These people slept like rocks. Bertholdt didn't give any indication that he'd heard me when I opened the bedroom door even though it creaked. The front door was easy to open, thank God. I slipped my shoes on--when did I take those off?--and slipped outside.
The sun had risen some more. Soft,pale colors were coming from behind the cabin. It was quite peaceful actually, and I'm not the sentimental type. I almost wanted to take a picture. Almost.
I reached into the pocket of my jeans to fish out my phone and was really confused when I didn't have any pockets. I looked down and realized that I was still wearing the pajama pants they'd given me. And I'd left my phone at my own cabin. Wow, how stupid could I get?
I sighed. I guess I'd just have to give them back after I got my own clothes again, whether it be from Petra or the cabin. Not wanting to go back to my family, I walked down and sat on the edge of cabin one's dock. I rolled the bottoms of the pants up, took my shoes off, and stuck my feet in the water. It was nice and cold.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, letting the breeze from the lake flow over me. What day is it? I wondered. We got here on a Saturday night, and I peeled Connie off Marco that day. On Sunday, Marco and his family came over for breakfast and Eren asked me what a dildo was. Monday, Eren stole my ice cream and lit his mouth on fire. That night I snuck out to meet Marco. Yesterday, I found out about the dead girl and had that shitty fight, so that made today Wednesday. If I remembered correctly, we were leaving on Saturday morning. I was not looking forward to that car ride.
I stifled a yawn and scrubbed my hands through my hair. I really needed a shower. I could feel the oil, and it totally grossed me out, but I still wasn't up for going home. I debated jumping into the lake but decided against it. I didn't think that the fish would appreciate it.
"Is there any--"
I jumped five feet in the air. "God fucking dammit, Freckled Jesus!" I yelled, whirling around. He was grinning from ear to ear. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, and he was in a tee shirt that was slightly skewed and pajama pants that hung low on his hips. The combination left some skin exposed. He started laughing at me from my earlier outburst. I turned back around, hoping he didn't see my blush.
The dock moved under his footsteps and, his hand came to rest on my shoulder. He was still laughing. "I'm sorry," he gasped.
"I'm sure," I muttered. "How about a warning next time?" Was my face still red? It felt hot still. Oh God, oh God, oh God...
"I didn't think that you would get scared," he laughed. "I'll make sure to give you a heads up next time."
I turned my head to look up at him, and my eyes caught that tan skin. I hoped to God he didn't see that. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me today? "Did I sense sarcasm in your voice? Because I think I did."
He shrugged. "Maybe."
"It sure as fuck was." I scooted over to the edge of the dock and patted the space beside me. He sat down and we settled into an already-familiar position: my arm around his waist, his head on my shoulder, and my head on top of his. The only difference was the fact that we were sharing the blanket. He was warm, and it chased away the morning chill that I hadn't even noticed.
"What are you doing out here in the first place?" he asked. He wasn't upset, just curious.
I shrugged. My fingers had found that God forsaken strip of skin. "Dunno. I guess I felt bad for taking over your bed. And causing a scene."
He burrowed into my side more. "You didn't cause a scene. You kinda scared me when I saw you running up here, but I'm still glad that you came to me. And as for stealing my bed," he put his hand over mine, the one that was rubbing his side in slow circles, "feel free to take it any time you want to."
I felt a flutter in my stomach, and I laced my fingers with his. He squeezed my hand.
I felt a sudden, unexpected rush of relief. Nothing was different between us, really. I didn't feel awkward or distant, and apparently he didn't either. If anything, I felt much closer. Normally if something like that had happened to me, I would've shut the other person out, hating that they'd seen my vulnerable. Now, however, it seemed like instead of building a wall to keep him out, it seemed that I had pulled him into my heart before building a wall to keep anybody else from getting to him.
As if sensing my thoughts, he said, "Did you know that when you fall asleep with somebody your body releases chemicals that make you more comfortable to be around them?"
"Hm." That explained a lot. "So are you saying that I should run away from you? Are you going to murder me in my sleep?"
"Ew. I don't think I'd be able to stomach that."
We were both silent for a moment. "Did you hear about the girl in the house across the lake?"
He lifted his head and looked me in the eyes. "Hanna," he said. "Her name was Hanna."
I nodded, and we returned to our previous position. He didn't have to say anything else because somehow I knew. She wasn't "the dead girl." She was a real girl with real emotions and memories and thoughts. He didn't want to think of her as something other than a human, and I found that I didn't want to either.
"I wonder how she got there. I mean, what do you think actually happened?"
He shook his head and sighed. "I don't know."
"What if there was a way that we could find out what happened to her?"
He looked up at me again and furrowed his eyebrows. "Huh? We aren't detectives, Jean. We don't have any resources. And we're only here for three more full days counting today."
I ran my free hand through my hair. "I know, I know. But I just can't help but feel that something isn't right here." After I said it I realized that I did have a feeling that something was wrong. I held Marco closer to me, hating the cold feeling I had in my stomach.
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Holy hell. 180 reads already! It feels like it was practically overnight! Thank you to all of you for reading, and an extra thanks to those of you that vote. All of you are literally my kind of people. I'm also debating changing the names and publishing the story when I'm done with it.
I already have an ending planned out. It's going to be a major cliffhanger. *Evil laughter.* It's a good thing I plan to write a sequel. =-)
--Shelby