They're yelling again.
Ugh. I hate it. Every time I walk in the door, another one slams, and then someone yelps. I've never figured out which one though; whether it's my mom or my dad yelping.
Ah. Who cares?
Screw this. I think. Why do they always have to be this way? Heck, if they've always been this way, why'd they even have me?
It doesn't make sense anymore. I've never figured out whose fault it is, or what the cause is--maybe it's just them. Maybe they just fight so that they could make up and make out. I, quite frankly, don't want to know, and obviously, they don't want me to either.
Quietly climbing the stairs, but trying desperately to hurry so that I could get out of this mad house as fast as possible, I reach my room. My door is closed with the "Stay Out" signs, and police tape completely covering every inch of white that is supposed to be there. I push open the door, and then walk over to my drawer and pulled my iPod and headphones out.
Usually when this happens, I leave the house for the night, sometimes just for a few hours, just as long as I don't have to hear the helpless shouts and yells of my parents. It doesn't matter where I go, just as long as I am gone.
I stuff it into my pocket, check my phone for messages, run back downstairs and out the doors to the hot driveway.
My car isn't the best, but it works. A 2001 Toyota Corolla, which has been in numerous crashes, and then paint is falling off. It is black which pronounces my personality pretty well. I try to hide my feelings--putting on a show for the ones who think they knew me. I hope they never will. It makes sense to them, because whenever they come over, mom and dad are gone, as if they aren't always. So, by default, they think everything is okay. But little do they know, that it is the exact opposite of what it's like when they're home.
My car's interior isn't the greatest either, but it holds up--just like I do. The radio--thankfully--works well. That is a plus--an add to what I was looking for when I bought the car.
I put the key in the ignition, and pull out of the driveway.
The sun seems to blister down upon me as if I were cursed, but it shows me hope--hope that there was a future and maybe a good one. Ah, but who knows? Obviously not me. The park is almost shimmering with happiness as the kids play on the swings, with smiles that are almost brighter than the sun itself. As the kids slide down the slide, without a single care in the world; as the parents gladly play the childish games, reliving their own childhood.
It makes me smile, yet frown from both the happy and the sad thoughts I am having. The happy, because these kids were so lucky to have such wonderful parents, and the sad because I never did.
The tears fill my eyes, and then I pull the keys out of the ignition, and then stumble lazily out of the car, and onto the sparkling concrete of the path.
I walk slowly to the empty swings and sit down in one. I pull my iPod out of my pocket and plug the headphones into my ears, hoping that I can drown out my life. I turn it on to the new Three Days Grace CD, finally content that I can close my eyes and not worry.
The sun beats down upon my face, and I let it. It makes me feel important. Don't ask how, but it does. I smile, for the first time this week, and it's Friday.
"What song is that?" A low voice asks me in my ear. I snap my head around to see a boy--almost a man. His black hair spiked up, and his blue eyes gleaming at me. His teeth completely and utterly white. His flannel shirt waves in the wind, which makes me glance down at his well built chest. He smiles at me, and then I slip back into reality.
"Oh, um...Bully by Three Days Grace," I respond awkwardly.
He smiles at me and my hear almost stops. "Ah, good band."
I laugh. He sits down on the swing next to me, and begins to slowly pump his legs. I hand him one of my headphones. He grins and then takes it from me, being careful not to touch my hand.
He knows every word to it. His eyes light up, almost smiling themselves, as he sings.
Wow, I don't even know his name, but he is gorgeous. Wow, what I would do for him. But who is he, and why haven't I seen him around before? I wonder if he has a girlfriend--I stop. Gosh. I need to stop thinking like that.
"Do you have a name?" His voice makes my mouth water for him. It's beautiful. I watch the way his lips move when he talks. My golden hair shapes around my face and gets caught in my lip. He laughs and brushes it back, gently, for me. "Well?"
"Oh, right. Yeah, I'm Amberlin." But just now am I feel the searing heat on my lips, left from when he brushed my hair back. I touch my lips, with my finger, but he touches my hand and puts it back down to my lap. Seconds after, I feel the same burning heat.
It has to be him. I think as his face turns from beautiful to horrific.
"Did I do something?" he asks, worriedly.
"No," I lie. "What's your name?"
His face lights back up, to what it was when I first saw him. "Colton."
"Colton." The words fall restlessly out of my lips. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"
His eyebrows knit together and he looks away--back to the children and parents playing their childish games. "My life," he starts, and then takes a breath and looks back at me. "Is hard."
I frown, because I know what he means. "I know where you're coming from," I mumble.
He shakes his head and I swear I could of heard him say, "No you don't." But I'm probably just dreaming, so I disregard it.
"Well, Amberlin, I must be going. But I do have something for you." He smiles and then reaches into his pocket to pull something out.
Something for me? How flattering. I feel my face redden as he hands a scrap of paper to me. It's ripped and torn, but I don't care. I take it in my hands and open it.
Meet me at this address, tonight, at seven o'clock.
And under it has the address that the letter was talking about.
I smile and look up to tell him that I accept, but him and his presence are already gone.
There is something about this guy--Colton. He is...different. But a good different or a bad different, I'm not quite sure yet. His touch burned me, but maybe that's just because--heck, what am I thinking? Of course it was him. And why would he just randomly come over and decide to talk to me, I had had never even seen him before?
I don't know if I should be scared or flattered.
He could be my stalker...? But why would someone want to stalk me? My life isn't that special. Actually it was crappy. I don't understand why someone would want to go through that pain with me. It just doesn't make any sense.
I continue to sit on the swing, staring at the perfect handwriting filling the white scrap of paper. Whenever my eyes glance away, though, they are magically drawn back to it. It is sort of taunting me.
But then a new question forms in my head. Should I go to this place? I mean, I could be seriously injured. What if he's luring me into some sort of trap that I won't be able to get out of? My life could be injured.
Okay, but it's not like anyone would actually miss me. My parents are too busy fighting with each other to actually notice that I'm gone. My friends--if I can even call them that--are too busy judging me and everyone else to see what's really going on.
So...who would car if I got hurt or, heck, even if I died? No one would miss me.
Might as well go see what this is all about. I mean, if I'm so curious, this is my chance to figure out what's really going on with him. Maybe his life is just as hard, like he said, and maybe he needs a friend, too. Well, hate to admit it, but it might be hard just to be friends with him. He's more than gorgeous, with his black hair, flannel see through shirt, blue eyes, and very, very attractive muscles. But...maybe he wants to be more than friends. But why me? I'm not even that pretty, with golden hair and brown eyes, with maybe a little of a tan, but not much. Heck, I even live in California, and I'm not that tan.
Maybe I should just quit worrying and give him a chance.
Yeah, that's it. I'm going to try this guy out, because he seems like that's what he wants.
Okay, no more worrying, I have enough on my plate right now. I tell myself. Then I smile to myself and press play again to slowly drown out my life.
I feel pretty. I feel like somebody actually wants to see me. I don't know, but I feel loved. I feel like I had before my parents started fighting--when they loved me.
But now, I was just some "scum of the earth," waiting for something interesting to happen. And maybe I've found it. Maybe this is my time. Maybe he wants me like I want him. But maybe he just wants to be friends...
This is going to ruin me.
Something on the side of my head is burning.
"Crap, crap, crap!" I mutter. My curling iron is burning my hair. It starts to smell like smoke. My head burns and then I pull the iron away from my head. Phew...
My golden hair bounces against the bare skin of my shoulders, as I worry myself over tonight and what is to come. He, obviously, will be there, which make butterflies fly around my stomach. I begin to sing some song from Escape the Fate as I spin happily to my room, to figure out what I am going to wear. Definitely, my black jeans and white Converse, but something long-sleeved so he won't see the scars on my arms. There. My dark purple shirt, and a long black hoodie.
Running happily back into the bathroom, I put on a little makeup: purple eye shadow, no eyeliner, (don't want to look too goth) and a little bit of lip gloss. I smile and then turn around in the mirror, to make sure I look nice.
Will he like me for who I am? I ask myself. I don't want him to think that I'm too edgy. That certainly wouldn't be good.
Thankfully my parents are gone. The house is quiet--for once. But, I really don't want to come home and have to sleep here and listen to them yell. I'll probably stay at a motel or somewhere where I can stay cheap. I grab an extra pair of underwear, a bra, my iPod, cell phone and charger and then glance at my clock.
6:37.
I've already gotten some crappy directions from the computer, and it's not too far away.
Tonight could be it. I could be killed. I could be kidnapped--or worse...but no need to get into that. But, I don't care. Nobody else does either. Nobody will miss me.
This is practically my suicidal Friday': practically suicide. Although, there is that small chance that I may not die. So...not really.
Or...it could be the exact opposite of what I'm thinking it is. It could be the night of my life...
The sun is still hanging high in the California sky, and I feel like a movie star walking out to my car. Pulling out of the neighborhood really makes me realize what I am about to do, and it really starts to worry me; but stops as soon as I turn the radio on.
As I pull up to the neighborhood, I realize it's a gated community. Crap. I don't have the code, his last name, or his phone number. How am I supposed to get in? Great, I knew this was all a trick. He did this to set me up for rejection.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the sheet of paper, just to make sure. Sure enough, at the very bottom are four numbers: The code.
Yes!
I punch in the numbers and then the gate opens up. A few more turns and I'm in front of the most beautiful house that I've ever seen. Completely bathed in white--at least three stories high, and a four car garage. A fountain set in the grass, leading up to the steps leading to the beautiful double doors.
Wow. I hit the big time.
I glance in the mirror one more time, and then get out of my car. I stumble up the brick steps and then shake as I stand in front of the door. Okay, here I go.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Coming!" Somebody yells. My heart fills with those butterflies again, because it's his voice I hear. Someone comes down the steps and then unlocks the door. "Amberlin!" He exclaims gleefully. "I'm so glad you came! I didn't know if you would be here tonight!" He pulls me awkwardly into his arms and gives me a big hug.
There's that burning feeling again, but it's not as bad as it was this morning. I struggle against him, and then he understands and pulls away. "Sorry," he murmurs.
"So...am I the only one here?" I ask, lightly.
He smiles and then takes my hand.
Ooh, this has got to be a sign! He's holding my hand! I can't believe it! I'm over at his house, he's just hugged me, invited me in cheerfully and now he's holding my hand--But the burning starts again. I can wait for a few more seconds, and then I'll have to pull away.
"Mom! Amberlin is here! Come say hi!"
Thankfully, he lets go of my hand, and one of the most beautiful ladies that I have ever seen stands right in front of me, and gives me a hug, her black hair falling over her shoulders, with the same blue eyes as Colton. Same burning feeling that Colton has, only with much more intensity.
"Amberlin, it's so nice to meet you! Colton," she glances at him, and my mouth waters at the name, "has told me all about you! It's nice to finally meet you."
Um...it's been like, 8 hours....
"You too!" I smile, and then pull away, because she burns me.
Whatever Colton is, his mom is too...
"Well, dinner will be ready in about," she looks down at her watch, "fifteen minutes." She smiles and then goes back into the kitchen, to leave me and Colton alone.
He smiles at me, and I glance around the very vast foyer. Marble. Marble everywhere. Marble stairs, marble walls, marble floor...except for the chandelier which is crystal. Oh. My. God. It's beautiful. Spiral staircase, pictures of past relatives leading all the way up the stairs.
"Would you like me to show you around?" His voice is beautiful. I can't believe that I'm actually here. I'm back with him, and it's more perfect than perfect could be. He is wearing the same clothes, but he can definitely pull it off. His face is more beautiful than I remember, and now...here I am.
"Um, yeah, that'd be great," I smile, slyly.
His hand touches mine again, but doesn't burn till seconds later, but this time he knows it and after every room, he lets go of it, I guess knowing that it hurts. Dining room, study, kitchen, library, powder room, powder bathroom, two guest rooms...and then the upstairs. A game room, a theater room, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and so much more. Then...his room.
Pushing open the door with his hand, I notice that the room smells like his cologne. I drown in it, and don't dare to save myself. This is the best place to drown. His room isn't themed, and it's not painted, just...posters. A TV, computer, own bathroom, iHome...everything you could ever imagine...surfboards, snowboards, skis, tubes...everything. His furniture is all white and there are two or three windows.
"Do you like it?" He asks, and I feel his hand, purposely, brush my waist. I shudder, but act like nothing ever happened, because that's what he does.
"Yes, I am so jealous of this room," I giggle and then look at him as he sits down on his bed.
He chuckles. "You're a girl."
"Thanks, Captain Obvious. I'm a tomboy."
He laughs with me and then gives me a secret look. I get lost in his pure blue eyes, hoping that no one will ever save me.
"Can...can I ask you something?" I ask quietly as I sit down on his bed next to him, and look towards the open door. Just making sure...
He touches my hair and then looks at me. "Of course. Shoot."
I don't know how to word this. "Why...why are you doing this? I mean, for me. I don't even know you, and you invited me over...and...I mean, you're not...stalking me are you?"
"No! Silly, why would you ever think that?" He smiles.
"You're not going to like...kill me tonight, are you?"
This time he laughs out loud. "No. I would never, ever do that to anyone. Why are you wondering these things?"
I look away for a second, and then look back up at him. "I just thought it was...kind of weird, how you just randomly came over to me today and started talking to me, and then you invited me over...but you were already gone."
"Did that scare you?" He asks, lovingly.
"No. I was just...curious."
This time, he looks away and out of the window and towards the setting sun. "I'm sorry if it was...awkward. You just looked like you were having a bad day, and were in need of a friend. I didn't quite know if I should have done what I did, but look where it's got us."
"Yeah, I'm sitting here, still wondering if you like me..."
Oh shit! I said that out loud! Crap, crap, crap!
"So...you like me..."
My face blushes. "I mean, I think you're cute."
"Well, news flash, babe, you are too."
REALLY!? Yes! Finally!
I can't help but smile. "Really?"
"Really--"
"Hey guys! It's time for dinner!" His mom yells gracefully up the stairs.
I've barely noticed how close we're sitting: His body head radiating off of me that is far hotter than any original human's.
"How long will you be staying tonight?" he asks me with a slight, yet beautiful, grin playing at his lips.
"However long you will let me stay," I answer with a small sheepish voice.
He says nothing but smiles at me and shows me the way back downstairs, in his complicated house. His mother's (I have yet to find out their last name) hair falls a long her shoulders as she sets a pan down on the table. She looks up and smiles at me. Colton becomes rigid beside me and they both stare at each other. It's at least ten seconds before he nods his head and then looks back at me. He grins and pulls out a chair for me at the oaken table. I slide in and then smile up at him. Both of them sit down across from each other at the round table.
Brisket. Mmm...my favorite...but, how did they know? And mash potatoes? How the crap did they know this was my favorite. Creepy... It is a little odd how they seemed to know everything about me, without even knowing me for a full twenty-four hours. But, I mine as well go along with it, if I want Colton to like me.
"I hope you like this. We didn't quite know if you were going to come tonight," she says in a sweet little voice, that I've rarely ever heard.
"Oh, of course. This is my favorite meal. I'm just wondering how you knew..."
Both of them laugh. But I think I heard some nervousness in there...? Maybe just a little hidden in there.
"Lucky guess," they both reply instantaneously.
This is really starting to creep me out; even if it was just a "lucky guess." Whatever... How could someone guess "luckily" and get it right? I mean, side dishes and everything.
I tried to think of a nice reply that wouldn't show too much of my suspicion. "Ha, well you guessed right."
Colton looked at me with wary eyes. I think I saw a hidden tear in them. They sparkled from the lights glinting back off of them. "It was my dad's favorite, too," he barely whispers.
I get it now! I guess their dad left them and that's why it's a hard life for them. I glanced at Colton and...was he nodding his head at me? He immediately stopped and passed the mashed potatoes towards me, trying to hide whatever he was thinking about.
I really hope I'm not making this bad for them.
Once we all had our plates filled, I began to hear the soothing clink of the utensils on glass.
I miss this noise. It's been so long since I've had a dinner with my family. They both smiled at me, with lights in their eyes.
"Tell us about you Amberlin," Colton's mom asked.
Mine as well get the obvious over with first, so then I can be done with it, and have one more thing to cross off of my list. "Well, I'm Amberlin Crane, and well, you guys are some of the first people to actually be this nice to me. I feel like I can be open with you guys."
There's something in her eyes that light up, and it makes me feel very comfortable around her."Of course you can. Tell us anything and we'll be here to listen."
At least three seconds later Colton laughs. "Sorry, I just thought of something she told me yesterday."
I give a questionable look to his mom, but she reflects my look.
"Well, first of all, I just want to say thanks."
She smiles at me again, and so does Colton, and I'm just beginning to see the pure resemblance of the two.
"Okay, well, my parents always fight." There. I said it, and now all I have to hide are my scars. I can tell them everything if I want, but I don't know if I'm quite ready for that yet. "Everyday and every night."
Colton looks to his mom with a look of sheer accomplishment on his handsome face. Then he looks at me with weary eyes.
"I can never seem to get away. They never talk to me, never even give me a simple look. But now that I'm here with you guys-the-"
"de Greenes."
"The de Green family, I remember-and miss-all of those moments that my parents and I used to share." I take little bites of food in between every sentence. They do, also.
"Well, Amberlin Crane, you are always welcome here."
Colton looks at his mom and then back at me. "Yes you are. But tell us, what do you do when your parents fight?"
This makes me think a little. I mean, it hurts, to be asked this question with such simplicity. Nobody will ever be able to understand the pain it puts me through-the pain they put me through. I don't know if I even know the complexity towards it. Where do I go when my parents fight...?
"During the day, I usually find somewhere where I can be happy, or alone-that's why I was at the park this morning. But during the night, I get up and usually either sleep in my car, or find somewhere cheap where I can stay the night...or longer."
A broad smile spreads across Colton's lips. "Where are you staying tonight?"
Oh great! How could I have been so ignorant to this question?
"No where yet."
He looks at his mom then back at me-both of them with grins full of joy and hope. "Would you like to stay here? I mean, you don't have to, but we won't charge you." He laughs.
I think for a minute. Well, if I don't have to pay (I'm kind of running low on money) and, it will be with Colton. I would, and could, do anything for him. And this could really maybe get a great jumpstart on our relationship, if we'll ever have one. This could be a great opportunity for me. And plus, I need a friend, and he seems like someone who wants to be my friend, and his mom.
"Actually, that would be nice, but I can't intrude on your lives like that. I've only met you this morning, Colton."
He laughs, and it fills the empty, dull air. "Awe, come on. You wouldn't be intruding!" He argues as if he actually wants me to stay. I mean, he did say that he thought I was cute in his room... "It's summer, and we have nothing better to do. It really would be a pleasure."
Mrs. de Greene smiles. "It really would," she answers with a beautiful sing song voice, that I wish I had.
I shake my head.
"Please?" he asks with a puppy dog face, that is very hard to resist. I laugh and then nod.
"Okay, okay, I'll stay. But you guys don't have to do anything for me."
"But we will," Mrs. de Greene murmurs, taking her plate to the sink, and then turns it on to begin doing the dishes.
We all laugh, and then Colton leans over to me. "You wanna come upstairs with me?"
I look at his poor mother doing all the work by herself. "I smile. "Yes, but I need to help your mom first."
His fingers close around mine, and then he pulls me out of the seat and almost into his arms. "She can do the work. Plus, she'll know where we'll be."
"But-how?"
It's too late. He's already pulling me along with him; me following along reluctantly. Up the marble stairs, the pictures of their ancestors watching us the whole way.
The burning isn't even there anymore. I like it when I can hold his hand and not be incontinently burned by the weight of his fingers on mine. I couldn't help but shake as the clear reality of his crushing on me, hit me. I heard him chuckle and then squeezes my fingers. He opens the closed door to his room and waits for me to walk in.
"Colton," I ask quietly, "what are we doing?"
"Tell me more about you," he commands as he shuts the door and turns the light on.
I sit down on his bed and try to keep back the tears. He runs to his bathroom and pulls out his iPod as I begin to speak. "It's been happening ever since I was six. They've always fought."
"Tell me more."
"I thought it was normal for parents to fight. They always did, so therefore, I thought everyone else's parents fought the same way mine fought. Always yelling and always screaming, slamming doors and running off crying. I was the one to sit quietly in my bedroom and hum the song of the Barney theme song," I attempted to laugh, but nothing came out. He sat down next to me-practically on me. "I didn't want to hear them, but I did. He sometimes got abusive, trying to hurt her. I don't know why she didn't just leave. It would have made everyone's life easier that way.
"You know, I don't even know if they know when my birthday is anymore. And that hurts. I don't know if you know what it's like."
"I do," he whispers and grabs my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine.
He's kissing me! He's actually kissing me!
His lips feel like everything I imagined them to be and more. They make me kiss him back. My hands knot uncontrollably in his hair and I pull him closer to me. I open my mouth and kiss him back, as he kisses me incontinently. Now he's practically on my lap, but I don't care, and I don't think I ever could.
Then I pull away and burst in tears. My life is on the verge of disaster. How could I cry after an amazing kiss like that? But he doesn't care. He pulls me into his arms and onto his lap and then holds me as I cry it out.
"Shhh..." He whispers into my hair as he kisses it over and over again. "Please don't be mad that I did that to you."
I grasp the collar of his shirt in my hand and smile up at him. "I could never be mad that you just kissed me. It just hurts so bad to know that my parents will never be able to be happy for me.
He wraps his arms around my neck and then pulls it against his chest as I sob. I feel his hands move in my hair as his lips rest against it. It feels good. It feels good to know that he actually cares for me.
I knew someone would all along. I just knew it.
He lifts my face up to his and then presses his lips to mine and then I rest my face against the facets of his neck, and take him in.
So, maybe the fact that he kissed me, made me completely fall in love with him. Okay, maybe not fall in love with him, but fall for him. He was amazing. He could make any girl feel good, even if they were crying. And knowing that he wasn't going to burn me was definitely a pro to that list.
Mrs. de Green is one of the nicest people I have ever met. She cared about me, and obviously about Colton. But the fact that she cared about me, made me feel like they really did want me to be here, staying in the carriage house.
I've never stayed in a carriage house before, but the view from his room made it look like a mini mansion of my own. And when I feel his arms wrap around my waist, and his chin touch my shoulder, I know that this is going to be a good night, a good tomorrow, and a good however long I stay here. He makes me happy, even when he makes me cry, and talk about my past. But that was just because he is the first person-and his mom-to ever know the real truth about my scarred life. And maybe, he doesn't know about the real scars hidden beneath the sleeves of my jacket, but someday he will find out, and hopefully that someday won't be soon.
Which brought up another thought. The more I procrastinate, I know the more he is going to be mad. But, I really shouldn't worry about crap like this when I'm so happy.
I smile through my tears as I feel him kiss my temple.
Things are moving quite fast for us, but it doesn't seem like either of us cared about it. In fact, I think I have a guilty enjoyment of it, and I think that he does too. Out of the three boyfriends I had, I know that I could never move this fast with them.
Maybe it's the fact that he knows my secret. He knows the truth about my family, but maybe it's the fact that I just really like him. Or...maybe it's the fact that he just doesn't burn me anymore. I laugh internally, and smile as I look out the window.
"You know," he starts, almost whispering, his chin moving against my shoulder. "I never meant to make you cry."
I touch his arm. "I know. It's not that you made me cry, Colton. It's that, you're the first person that I've ever told about this situation. I've never trusted anyone. And the weird thing is that I never would have thought that I would trust you, when I've barely known you, for even a day. And look, here we are: Holding each other, still thinking about the way you kissed me, and the way you talk to me. I just...there's something about you."
He turns me around to face him. He laughs and then leans down to kiss my nose. "Amberlin, when I was...six years old, my parents fought. Every day, and every night, just like you said. I would come home and listen to them fight, just like you did. I did it the exact same way you did, except I was younger. They never said hi to me, never asked me how my day was at school, or what I had for lunch, because they were always too embedded in their screaming.
"I ran away several times. I'm not going to lie. But, I never, ever went far, because there was nowhere for me to go. Without love, I was...nothing. I was...nothing," he repeated in softly in my ear.
He lets go of me and paces around his room. I curl up on his bed and pull one of his pillows under my nose to see that it smells like his shampoo. Mmm...
"I grew up, with my parents fighting, and abusing each other, sometimes even abusing me. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to let other people know, when I couldn't get that damned plastered smile off of my face? It never came off. It was like a curse, always having to be happy, always having to feel happiness.
"Everyone way overestimates this whole happiness feeling. I wanted to feel sadness when I was little-Just once. I would do anything to feel something other than happy, to not tape that smile to my face and tell all my little school buddies that everything was okay, because it wasn't, and I knew it wouldn't be for a while.
"When I went over to my friends' house, their parents envied me and my smile-heck, it could have been my pet. I took it everywhere with me. It did everything with me, even when I ran away. I was scared then, and yet I couldn't help but smile. Their parents envied my smile, and told me how much fun and how happy I was, when I was over. By the time I was nine, I was damn sick of hearing that. If I could have given my smile and my happiness to them, I would.
"I knew that I couldn't be happy when I heard the shouts of my parents, and then beating of each other-physically and mentally. Nothing made sense to me, and obviously it shouldn't have, because I was ten. But, I wanted it to. I strained to become more intelligent every day. Whether that was learning about puberty, or learning what 700 times nine was. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to be really happy, and know that I wasn't neglected or hated for who I was.
"By the time I was twelve my daddy finally moved out. He finally left us, and it made my mama and I get really close. I don't know what happened, but I think that maybe she realized that I never got that love that I need, and wanted-the love that all the other little tykes at the school got. My mom finally began to realize that that's why I constantly ran away, and tried to stay away, knowing that I didn't want to be physically or mentally scarred for the rest of my life.
"When I was thirteen, I told her everything. We got very close that year, and seemed to give me all the love that I never got when I needed it most. It was like a ton of love being dumped on me at once. This was when I realized that there is sadness in the world."
Why sadness then?" I ask quietly. He smiles and then comes to lie by me. He holds my hand in his own and then hides his face in my hair for a minute.
"Because I was beginning to realize that I loved my dad," he whispered and then peeked his eyes above my head to see what I was thinking. He got back up again and began pacing. "I missed him, Amberlin. Even though he hurt my mom and also me sometimes, he was my dad. My mom began to realize the same thing, although at the same time she detested him. Talked crap about him all the time.
"But I remember walking in on her crying--having a complete mental breakdown. She was sprawled out across the bedroom floor, glass pieces everywhere because of the broken vodka bottles. I stepped out of her room, and ran crying to my room. And then I realized sadness again, but the was something accompanying it. Pain and hurt. "This was when I realized that nobody was asking me to smile all the time.
"The next morning she pulled me into her arms and apologized for everything she had put me through, and how she would never be able to repay me.
"All of that made me who I am today. Made me, me. The one who can tell you that there's nothing that you're going to tell me that's going to make me dislike you. "Amberlin, you're everything that I've ever dreamed of. I need someone like you. I've been neglecting this kind of love ever since my mom gave me hers. I always pushed it away, telling myself that I loved my mom and always would. But now that I've grown older and since I'm eighteen now, I realize that someone like you needs someone like me and vice versa." He shakes his head but I pull his pillow over my mouth and smile.
"And maybe I'm wrong," he murmurs as he sat by me. "I mean, obviously it will take some time to find out whether we're right for each other. But even if we're not, I need friend love too. I've only told some very close friends about my life and it'd be nice to have another one. Tell me no. Tell me yes. Just tell me the truth. Do you like me?"
I smile and stand up, setting the dark blue pillow on the bed and walk to him and grabb his face firmly in my hands. "Colton de Greene. I've only known you for a little time. I've barely gotten to know you, and I barely know your last name. This is way too fast for me. Of course I like you. Colton, you're the only one who understands what it's like to be in the position that I'm in. Even though this is going by so fast I could never ever give up this perfect chance of friendship and love. It's just what I need. I've been neglected in my past and present that I don't know the difference between right and wrong and pain and sadness, but you seem like you may know a thing or two about what I need to know. I'm just wondering how I could ever think about letting this go.
"Colton de Greene, I like you, and hope that you, also, like me." He looks at me and then pulls me into his arms. "Colton," I begin, "I had a crush on you from the first time you spoke to me. Your eyes said everything."
"That's a lie," his whispers, his forehead touching mine. I take his face in between my hands, again.
"No, it's not." He tilts his head and then parts his lips before they twine with mine. We finish the kiss a second later, and I let my thoughts rest on the noise we make when our lips part.
"I think you have more than a crush," he says in a low voice and then pulls me back into his arms and kisses me again, this time with gentle passion that would bribe any girl into anything. He knows it. My arms slowly snake around his neck and I pull myself into him. But he unexpectedly pushes me away, with such grace and force that made me stumble backwards and fall onto his bed.
"What are you doing," I protest angrily.
"Shhh...just stay there."
And soon enough, I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, echoing through the vast marble hallway.
"Colton?" His mother calls, with a beautiful voice.
I shoot him a worried glance, and then look back at the door. One, two, three seconds later, Mrs. de Greene looks confusedly at us.
"Hey Amberlin," she says sweetly, "Would you like to have some ice cream with me?"
I look at Colton, then back at her. "Uh, yeah, actually, that sounds good."
"Great. Colton, we'll see you in a few minutes."
Mrs. de Greene gives me a warm and welcoming smile, and suddenly all of my worries just seem to fade away, leaving nothing but the presence of optimism. She moves her arm like a game show host toward the door, and I walk out into the hall, without even a glance towards Colton. I hear her follow me down the stairs and into the kitchen, barely spending time to converse with her son. She appears after me, and now I'm starting to get anxious--wondering what she wants to say or do to me.
She reaches into the freezer and pulls out a tub of ice cream. "You know that I've always wanted a daughter." Her voice revealing...is that a sliver of an Italian accent? "Even though, I've just met you, hours ago, there's something about you."
There's that warm feeling again. I feel it when she looks at me and smiles, or does something to make another soul feel good. All I can do is give her a small inkling of an impish grin, but all she does is smile in return.
"Colton told you, didn't he."
I cock my head to one side and watch the way she dishes the ice cream out into two bowls. I pull my eyebrows together and wait for her to answer my question that had been purposely left unspoken. "About our family...about my husband."
I nod.
"Well, Amberlin, he needs you."
"What do you mean," I speak for the first time.
There is something about the way she said it. The look that holds her eye and the tone in her voice makes me believe what she's saying is true, and that there is no way in hell she could ever be wrong.
"I mean that he needs the kind of love that you have to give. No of his 'exes--'" she drew her fingers up and made quotation marks in the air-- "Understand what he's been through. But you, Amberlin," she hands me my bowl, "Understand better than anyone on this earth ever could."
"So...you're saying that you want me to fall in love with him."
She smiles, and then shakes her head. "No. Not at all. I want you to do what you want to do. But I want you to keep in mind that Colton's been though exactly what you are going through, and he can help you. I'm not saying that you have to be his girlfriend--" I can't help but choke on my ice cream when she says that--"I just want both of you to be happy."
"Mrs. de Greene--"
"Call me Eloise."
I grin. "Okay, Eloise, I...have a crush on him. But I don't think it's anything more," I lie.
How the heck can I tell her that I was making out with her son when she walked up the stairs, or that...Ah, never mind, no need to mention that.
"Amberlin, it's okay. I already know."
My face falls. How can she know? Did he show signs of affection at dinner? I didn't think he did...or at least, I didn't notice. Or...did she hear us? Was she like...stalking us around the house? Was she afraid that I would do something to him that she didn't want me to?
"I--how--when?"
"Trust me."
I laugh, and take another bite of my ice cream. "Okay."
"I trust Colton, and trust me, he won't go beyond your boundaries, he's...never mind. But, if you tell him not to do something he won't. But, let me warn you, that he may not seem like it now, but he's a rebel. Be prepared. Brace yourself, because you may discover some unlikely things in his characteristics."
This scares me.
"Right."
"Amberlin, I want you to know that you can stay here as long as you need to, and that you are always welcome to come over here when your parents are fighting, or just because you want to see us." She smiles, again. She just can't keep it off of her face. It gives me hope. "Colton has a crush on you, too. He wouldn't shut up about you after he came home. He was so paranoid that you might not come here. He was so afraid..."
Her voice trails off. This, also, gives me hope.
"He's waiting for you, Amberlin, I hate to steal you away from him, after he's waited so long for you to come and find him. Why don't you go find him again?"
She smiles at me, again, and then walks outside, only to dip her legs in the pool. She leaves me breathless, wanting to go find Colton and throw myself to him and kiss his lips.
Alright, we have almost every movie you could ever imagine-or since you're staying over, we could go to one, or I know some great clubs downtown. It's just up to you." He smiles at me and the proceeds to look through a whole bookcase of movies. I take a good long look around, and then look back up to him. His back is turned to me, but I can't stop look at him. His back is smoothed into an arch as he looks at the movies on the lower shelves. I grin, but he turns around, and back to me as it disappears. He takes a few steps towards me, to where our chests are almost touching-to where we're connected just by the string of electric shock. I can't take a step back, even if I want to. His smile almost seduces me, as his eyes trap mine.
"Or we could just stay home," I suggest with a quiet voice and a--hopefully-seductive smile. I can't keep my hands off of him. He traps my hand and puts it on his chest, but it's cold. His chest is very cool and so is his hand. It sends chills through my body. I gasp. I can't help but take a step closer, though, and feel the rest of his beautiful chest. His voice echoes in my head, as I bring my hand along the well built platforms of his chest. I don't feel the heat of his smile anymore, only the rapid heartbeat against my hand. "Are you scared?"
"Maybe a little, I haven't been through this in a while," he says quietly, "And so it feels a little weird. But I don't know what it feels like for you."
"For me?" I repeat, I as looking up from his chest. He smiles at me. "For me, it feels good," I admit.
"Well, I'm glad. So, I guess we'll stay home." He winks at me, and it sends my heart through my throat, but the chill of his cool chest sends it back down. Reluctantly. I move my hand back down to my side, only to run my fingers along the shelves of movies. His stops my finger on the movie The Notebook and pulls it out for me.
"The Notebook?"
"Ever seen it?" He asks walking to the DVD player and ejecting what ever movie was there before.
"Who hasn't?" I force a laugh.
"Do you like it?"
Of course I don't want to admit that I do, but at the same time, how could I not? "Actually yes, I do, but I don't like to admit it."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to be a girly girl. That's just, eww."
He chuckles. "Why don't you want to be a girly girl?" He walks past me, and I feel that he's cold. That's very different from this morning, or even when we were in his room...kissing. He sees my hesitation and gives me a sweet smile, but something tells me that our relationship isn't going to be all smiles.
"Because they make me sick. We have too many of thim in the world; and now even guys are starting to become like girls. It disgusts me."
He laughs, again. Then his face turns to horrific. "Crap it! Crap it-crap it-crap it.
"What?!"
"We don't have any popcorn."
My face produces a smile of wonder on it. "We don't need popcorn," I whisper to myself seductively.
"What?" He asks me, I could see a hint of a grin on his secretive face.
I laughed. "Nothing. Colton, we don't need popcorn. I don't care. Seriously.
But he doesn't buy it. He starts walking out the door and down the stairs. I chase after him. "Seriously! I don't care!" I call down the stairs, but for some reason, I think that he wants to be alone in the car with me...either to kill me, or to make out with me, I don't know. And quite frankly, I don't think I care right now. Just as long as I have the happiness of knowing that I kissed him. Twice...
When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I have no idea where to go. I still haven't gotten around their house. Maybe he went into the study...Nope, not there. Then I hear his voice talking to Eloise. Wow...that's weird to call her that. They're in the kitchen.
When I get there, he nods to me, and I step up to him, barely hearing what he's saying, only paying attention to where I need to guide my hand to get to his. He catches it, knowing my inspiration and then smiles to his mom. "Please?" He asks.
"Yeah, sure, but just be back soon, 'kay? And don't go anywhere else, unless you tell me about it."
"Alright, will do. Thanks mom," he says, leaning up to kiss her on the cheek. I see her blush, but I don't care. He leans into my ear, his lips almost pressing to my temple. "Go to the car," he whispers.
Oh lord. Please don't kill me.
I look at him with a frightened face, but he gave me a reassuring smile. "I thought this was what you wanted."
"Of course," I say, and pull him along with me, trying to guide myself to the garage. I hear a laugh from him, when I lead him like a dog-his hand still in mine-trying my best to find the garage.
"Okie dokie, Sacagawea, take me to your leader."
I laugh, aloud, and turn back to him and smile. "You're confusing two completely different concepts. I've paid enough attention in school to know that."
"I don't think I'll be able to pay any attention when I go back to school," he murmurs, again, trapping me with his words.
I try to talk, but barely can. "I thought you said that you just turned eighteen."
But he doesn't answer, just pulls me along to where the garage is. I notice that his hand is still pretty cold, even if it twines with my own, my own heat lacing with his. But nothing could stop it from cooling down. But as soon as we were speeding down the highway, our hands on the console, deciding whose was bigger, it was beginning to burn mine again.
Wow...this is weird. But this is evidence that he's probably...never mind.
The local drug store on the side of the road wasn't that packed, but it wasn't empty either. It was...just the right amount of people. But, his hand begins to burn mine againe, so I pull away. He looks curiously at me, and I smile and lean up to whisper in his ear, "Your hand burns mine."
"Ah. Sorry." A single finger caressed my cheek, and I couldn't help but close my eyes, but when I opened them back up, he was already gone. I walked down every aisle of the store but he wasn't there. I called out his name, knowing that I didn't have his number.
"Colton! Where are you?!" I call out his name, almost going up to the front to page him.
I see him peer behind a shelf of some pop, and then he smiles at me. I ran to him, but he was already gone. I run across the store, not caring about the small whispers that other people passed while I was running passed them. I see him, but he obviously didn't want me to, so he laughs and runs the other way.
"Colton de Greene! Come here!"
We ran the whole store, at least twice--him trying to get away from me, and me trying to run back into his arms-without getting kicked out. I guess while we were running along the parameter of the store, he grabbed the popcorn, because when we walked back up to the check out lane, he set the box on the counter and then wraps his arm around my waist. I can't help but push it away, and his face was sad. "Sorry, I just can't take it."
He smiles at me, apologetically and then pulls out his wallet.
"Is this all?" The old lady asks, with a completely bored voice.
"Yup--unless you want something else." He looks at me and smiles, voicelessly asking if I want anything else.
I shake my head, and then look back at the old lady, who didn't say anything. She put the popcorn in the bag, and then handed it to us. Colton hands her a five, without waiting for change. He gives her a sweet smile, and her face begins to light up. He pulls me out into the parking lot, and back into his car.
His car is an old Lexus, but it didn't matter to me. Whatever car would be better than mine. It's painted a dark metallic silver color. There is leather interior which is black, and a radio that works quite well. When he smiles at me, I can't but heat back up, even if he's not touching me. But...when we're alone, he's cold. What is this trying to tell me? I mean, he couldn't be a vampire or a werewolf, because he changed. But, obviously, those things don't exist. Maybe it wasn't anything at all, or maybe it was a medical condition or something.
"So what's with your body being hot, then changing from cold and back to hot again?" I ask completely involuntarily.
Crap! Why'd I even ask? Even if he was a mythical creature, it's not like he would tell me.
But apparently he hadn't heard me. He almost ignored me, but then smiled and climbed into the car. I helped myself in, thankful that he hadn't heard me. At least I didn't have to get set up for rejection, when he didn't tell me.
On the way home, he turned on the radio and asked me if I knew any of the songs. They were all oldies, and of course I didn't know them. I didn't listen to anything except for my screamo and rock songs that blare into my ears drowning out every sign of life.
I could tell that he was doing everything in his power to not touch me so that I wouldn't get burned.
"Do you know any of these songs?" he asks me, turning the radio up, trying to keep himself from touching me.
"No. I just stick to my playlist." I look to him and smile.
He grins. "I bet I could name every one of these songs."
"Okay, shoot. Good luck."
"Brown-eyed girl." He changes the station. "If Today was Your Last Day." Changes it again. "She Thinks my Tractor's Sexy. Down. Everything..." Then he names two more that I don't know.
Then he looks at me and smiles. "Told you."
"No Kidding."
By the time we get home, it's almost nine o'clock. Personally, I don't care. Just as long as he's here with me, or vice versa. I estimate that I will probably be up until at least twelve--but that's completely normal for me.
Once we walk into the house, Eloise is curled up on the couch watching a reality TV show that I've never heard of. We both glance to her, seeing that she's glued to her program, and then she throws up a thumbs up to us, and we smile and walk back up the stairs, to the game room. But his hand was still too warm for me to hold. I am disappointed about that. But when he smiles at me, it is all made back up.
He's so beautiful. How the hell did I become his girlfriend...oh yeah...he kissed me...
It was like he heard what I was thinking, because he stood in front of me, looking down and smiling at me. I can tell that he wants to pull me into his arms, but he doesn't. The movie starts, and both of us start. We look towards the TV and then he pulls me on the couch next to him. He's beginning to cool down, but not much. Well, at least I know that if I ever need a heated blanket I can just call him up...
His fingers run through my hair, and it falls limply onto his chest, as I slightly rest against him, still trying to avoid being burned. I have a feeling that we won't even pay attention to the movie, but we won't be kissing either.
"Why this movie?" I ask.
"Because, I thought that you would like it, but...if you don't we can change it."
I smile at him, and then begin to press my shoulder against his chest. "No. It's okay."
My eyes flutter closed through parts of the movie, taking into consideration how much I've been running around today. I can't really help myself, and he clearly didn't mind. I think that maybe he understood.
Thank goodness I fell asleep during the sex scene. Only God knows what would have happened between the two of us. But he knew every word. Not to mention that it felt like he was speaking them to me. He was...repeating the beautiful words to me...only that's what it felt like. Probably not what he was meaning to do...
I am asleep by the time the credits scroll across the screen, but he does nothing. Just lays there with my head on his chest, his hands in my hair. I can't open my eyes. His voice is in my ear, humming the ending song, which makes me fall asleep even more.
He's cold. Very cold.
Why is it that when we're alone...he gets cold...but with a lot of people he's very hot. At least...that's how it seems to be.
What if it's not my destiny to like him...or...eve fall in love with him? What if he's a bad guy and wants me. But that couldn't happen, not when he's with me like this...
He shifted his weight under me, and then stood up and reached for my hand.
"You can sleep here, baby, or you can use the carriage house...whichever you prefer.
I open my eyes to his beautiful body. "Okay, I'll get up."
"Good. Come with me."
He holds his hand out for mine. I place it in his, and it's almost freezing. I bring my other hand to it, and place it over every part of his hand that is showing. "Why are you so cold?"
"Damn fan," he mutters, and then something that starts with and f and rhythms with duck it... I laugh, and then he turns the switch to off. It's already eleven, and his mother is already in bed. He pulls me down to the kitchen, and opens the fridge door and pulls out a very well known brown bottle to me. I pop the lid and then take a sip.
"Do you always do this?"
"Do what?"
"Drink beer before going to bed," I smile and take another sip. Refreshing...ahh...
"Not really. I mean, I'll have one every once in a while, but not that much."
"Does your mom know?"
"Of course. My knows me inside and out."
He grabs my waist and then helps me up onto the counter. The kitchen is almost completely dark know because he has shut the refrigerator. It scares me a little, when his cold hands touch my bare skin. It sends shivers down my spine. I see his smile glint at me through the darkness though, and I can't help but smile back. "Oh!" He mutters and then goes back into the fridge and pulls out a tub of Cool Whip and then pulls out two spoons.
"Ahh, the joy of Cool Whip," he says, while dipping his spoon in the tub and the proceeding to lick the spoon clean.
I set my beer down, and then do the same, accidently getting some on his face. "I'm so sorry!" I say, wiping it off, then licking it off of my finger.
"Oh really?" He says, then dabbing some on the side of my face.
"You did not just do that!" I say quietly, but angrily--in a good way.
He laughs. "I just did! Here," he continues, "Let me get it off." But instead of using a paper towel, or his finger, he leans in and opens his mouth and practically eats it off of my face.
Note to self: Do not let him watch The Notebook again. Then again, it does feel...sorta...nice...
I let him do it, not even bothering to pull away. He slowly pulls away and then laughs a little. "I think it tastes better that way," he whispers in my ear, before then kissing back down my neck, taking his time, opening his mouth, only for me to feel the little warmth that's there, and then closing it again as he finishes a kiss. I can't help but gasp. He laughs when I do, and then whispers in my ear, "That makes it sound sexier."
I laugh and press my lips to his forehead. He continued to kiss me, and I let him. It feels good. It feels...better than with any other boyfriend who has kissed me this way. His hands play at my waist, and I rest my hands on his arms: desperate to put them somewhere. He kisses up my cheek...and then...oh gosh. He kisses the corner of my mouth, slowly and so gently. His lips grab my lower lip, and then he proceeds to kiss it again. I lean in and kiss him with the corner of my mouth.
"I think I should...go." I whisper, trying to move his hands off of my waist, but he laces his fingers with mine and puts his forehead against mine.
"You're staying here, babe."
"I know, but I mean...I think I should go to bed."
"Do you have pajama's?"
Crap...I completely forgot about that. "No..."
"You can wear something of mine...or my mom's. Come on upstairs." He smiles at me and holds out his hand. I take it, and lace my fingers through his. He smiles down at me and then pulls me up the back staircase, trying to keep nothing between our two hands.
He walks over to his dresser and digs through some close, while I sit on his bed, and pull his pillow close to my chest, inhaling the scent that it has."Flannel?" He looks at me, and I nod. He throws me a shirt, like the one he's wearing, and then grabs a pair of his basketball shorts. I hug them close to my body, just like the pillow. He smiles at me.
"You can take that. I have another one, and plus it will probably be a lot more comfortable than the ones on the bed--although that bed is so damn comfy.
"Thanks," I murmur, as we weave our way back through the house, and out to the carriage house. He has a key in his hand, which he uses to open the door. Cool air blows at me from inside. Downstairs, there is just a bathroom for the pool, and then the garage, and a washer and dryer. Upstairs, is a bedroom, a little kitchen, a full bathroom and walk-in closet.
"Okay, you have everything. Here's the bathroom," he motions his hand across the room. "Kitchen, bedroom, flat screen TV. Um...there's food in the fridge, and some in the pantry if you get hungry.
"Okay, thanks."
"You can do practically whatever you want." He flashes a smile at me. I smile back.
He takes a few steps closer, and puts his hand on my neck and leans into press his lips to mine. After a few seconds, we open our mouths to get a better kiss, and then he pulls away.
"Goodnight beautiful," he whispers, and then kisses me right above my lip.
I want to cry. Everything is so perfect. I couldn't ask for more. As soon as he was all the way out of the house, I fell on the bed and pulled the pillow close to me and squealed--and I never squeal.
I am so happy.
There is nothing you can do to make the sun stop shining, likewise, there is nothing you can do to make me stop liking Colton the way I do.
The sun shone down upon the bed I lay on, and I pull the blankets closer to my body. Today was my second full day with him, and his mom didn't care what we did: it's practically total freedom. The only problem is that I haven't talked to either of my parents.
I turn over in the bed and grab my cell phone to check for messages or missed calls. There it was, in clear sight. One missed call from both of my parents. But, this was usual. Each other them called at least once when I was gone for the night.
The flannel shirt feels amazingly comfortable against my stressed skin, his basketball shorts against my legs.
He didn't kill me. In fact, I heard his voice calling from the bottom of the stairs from outside. "Amberlin! Beautiful, wake up!"
Of course he was waking me up...why wouldn't he?
I throw the covers off of my body and walk down the beautiful sunlit stairs, not bothering to even glance at what I look like. I open the door and gaze into his glazed, sparkling blue eyes. His black spiky hair is quite handsome after he has just awaken--thrown in all different directions--kind of gives him that bad boy look. His tan skin almost dancing in the sunrays. I can see his well built chest under his thin muscle shirt.
Saying nothing--not being able to speak--I lean up and put my left arm around his neck, I kiss him. He isn't quite prepared, but not completely take a back, either. He kisses me back. But reluctantly, I pull away. "I'll be out in a minute."
He puts his hot hand on my cheek while his thumb strokes my cheek, as he looks at my lips.
I lean away and smile, quietly making my way back up the stairs. Then it dawned on me. I didn't have another change of clothes. But sitting there, neatly folded on the bed, sit a pair of Eloise's designer skinny jeans and a white, bright pink and orange shirt. Thank god they don't have stripes on it, but a huge design that I can't put into words...it's actually quite cute.
I put the clothes on, and pull on my shoes. My hair is crazy, when I look inn the mirror.
Brush, brush...I need a brush... I think to myself while looking through the drawers. Aha!
I push one through my hair as my stomach is twisting and turning with knots just at the thought of Colton. He didn't kill me, which either means he really likes me, or he's waiting to make it a painful death.
The previous night I slept with his pillow, getting the advantage of his scent and getting to dream about him all night. My lips were already watering to kiss him again and to see him.
What are we going to do today?
As soon as I am done with getting ready, and on my way to the house, my stomach is so flooded with butterflies that I can barely stand or breathe. I can already see both of their silhouettes moving around in the kitchen, making breakfast.
Ahh, the feel of his open lips on my skin last night, was heaven...
I screw up my courage and knock on the door, waiting to see Eloise's face. Her black hair falls along the lines of her skin and shoulders, stopping far above her midriff, her blue eyes also shimmering at me, almost themselves smiling. Her olive tinted hand takes mine and leads me into the dimly lit house.
"Good morning. You look very cute in my clothes. Glad to see you in some actual colors." She turns to me and smiles, before going to the stove and finishing the pancakes. Colton smiles at me and then motions for me to come over.
"Ever made pancakes before?" He asks me, obviously intent on finding out the answer.
I laugh. "Surprisingly, yes."
He pulls the pan towards himself and then flips the pancake, making it land perfectly like it was before, in the pan. "Ever done that before?"
This time, my laugh was more like evil. "Nope."
He smiles. "Try it; I'm sure you can do it."
He hands me the pan, and I take it in my shaky hands. He sees the pan shake and puts his warm hand on mine to keep it from shaking. "Just motion the pan upwards." I follow his words, as his hands leave mine. There it falls, exactly the opposite of what was supposed to happen. To the ground.
Slap.
When he laughs at me, his voice cracks and he picks up the pancake from the floor, while Eloise takes somewhat nervous glances towards us. "Don't worry about it. While you reside at the de Greene house, you will learn everything you need to know about cooking. Bona Petite." He kisses his fingers and while using a very well practiced Italian accent.
We wait...two minutes before the next pancake is ready. "Okay, look." He comes behind me and puts his arms around my sides. I shoot an anxious glance to Eloise, but she seems perfectly at home with this, as she sits on the stool, head in palm, smiling, while watching us. His hands close around mine, and I can't help but shake some more while his breath is playing at my neck. "All you have to do is move it up just a little, and wait for it to make at least a 180 flip. Then," he says quietly, while moving my hand up, making the pancake flip in the air. "You're good to catch it. Now you try."
We wait another two minutes, and this time, I do it all on my own, with an audience of my own, too. I am very proud of this accomplishment of very little importance.
Although it took a while to make breakfast, it takes us that fast to devour it. Is it just me, or can Colton not take his eyes off of me. When we get the time to be alone, I ask him about it.
"It's just because you look gorgeous in those close and no makeup on." His eyes scan me, lingering below my neckline just a second too long. I pull his chin up to where I can see him, and we both laugh.
I look at him a second too long just to let my smile fade along with his, both of them being pulled away in the wind. "Really, you do." He smiles and takes a step closer to me, one of his arms wrapping around my waist. "I think I really like you, and I know what I want to do today, if that's okay with you."
"Shoot."
"Well, since you don't have any clothes here, and obviously you don't want to risk going home, I thought that maybe we could go to the mall. There's no limit on what you can and can't buy, or what the spending amount is. I just thought that would be fun for you, and plus I wouldn't be able to handle you if you wore those dark colors every day." He smiles and then touches my nose with the tip of his finger.
I fake gasp. "You did not just say that about my clothes! I love them!"
"Baby, you'd look so much better, though, if you wore clothes like you are now, and come on. You have to admit that you do have a quirky liking for them." Again, he smiles.
I hate admitting it, but I did, in a sense, have a quirky liking to these clothes. They were something new, fresh, and different than what I usually wear.
SHIT! My scars are completely visible.
And it's just as if he reads my mind, because he gingerly picks up my arm and examines it, tracing, lightly each scare, without any trace of anger.
"Damn," he whispers. "I knew that somehow I'd be right."
I rip my arm out of his hand. "Don't," I plead helplessly.
"Amberlin, come on! You can't live with this forever. I've tried, and it doesn't work."
"How do you know?" I walk away from him, trying to get far away.
"Because, I used to cut myself, and, babe, it does nothing." Bull crap. That doesn't mean anything to me.
"It does for me! I don't have friends, Colton, I don't have a family that loves me--"
"But you have a boyfriend who does! Well, I don't quite love you yet, but you know what I mean, and I care about you more than any other girlfriend I've had." Sure, the ones that wear underwear as shorts, and bras as shirts? Well newsflash babe, I am no slut, and I don't plan on ever being one.
I glare at him. He can't possibly understand...can he? His family broke apart a long time ago, and it's rare to hear about a nine or even twelve-year-old cutting themselves'.
"How would you know?"
That's when I rip the door open and begin to storm out of the house toward the carriage house, trying to get some sanity around here, but apparently, that didn't exist around here.
"Baby! Come here!"
"No."
"Please?" His voice is pleading, and soft, and I can barely resist it. I hesitate before the door of the carriage house. He was the one who let me stay here, and he is my boyfriend, and he does know what I am going through...maybe I should give him a second chance.
"Why? What would you do for me except rip my secrets out of me one by one?"
"You told me your secrets."
"Yeah, but you were the one who examined my arm."
"Because you were the one who forgot the hoodie."
He has a point. It was my fault, and I do want him to know everything. I don't want to have to hide it anymore. I am sick and tired of hiding my secrets from every freaking person on the planet. He is the only person who knows, and I guess that he does deserve a second chance, whether I'd like to admit he does or not. What happened to the thoughts I had about him this morning? Couldn't I just have those back?
"Please don't blame this on me," he whispers in my ear while one arm wraps steadily around my waist. "I hate blaming it on you. But you have to realize that cutting isn't the right decision. Please understand, and if you want to, you can talk to my mom about it. That's what I did, and she was the one who changed my mind about it."
"While she was the one who made you start doing it..." I mutter, knowing perfectly well he can hear me.
"Yes, but she was the one who helped me stop, which overrides cutting. Positive should always overrun negative."
"But it doesn't."
I have always been the pessimist in my family, seeing things from the cup half empty, but then again, so was everyone else in my family. No one dared to look beyond the bad things, and that certainly wasn't a good thing, knowing that I didn't ever have experience in happiness or optimism.
I feel him smile. "But that doesn't mean that it shouldn't. Just because it does, doesn't mean it's the logical meaning for things." He let me go and spun me around. "Listen to me. I know what you're going through, trust me I do. I did it even after my parents had been separated for years, but after talking to my mom about it, it worked out, and hopefully that will be the same with you."
I look curiously up at him. "Make you a deal. I'll try and stop, and you won't tell a single soul."
"No deal."
"What?! How could you pass that up."
"You try and stop, and I'll tell my mom and no one else."
I think about it. Well, she is very sweet, and she did have the same experiences with Colton and had clearly gotten him to stop. Maybe she could help me, because I know that there is no way in heck that my parents are going to even find out.
"Fine. But not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe the day after. I really just want to be with you, and not have to worry about anything."
"But even if I don't tell her today or tomorrow, you have to stop cutting right away."
"Whatever."
"Whatever?"
"Fine, I mean."
"Good. It's a deal, then." He smiles, kisses my forehead and then almost manly prances off back to the house to get ready for our "date."