"Could you ever find it in yourself to honor a liar with a date?"
I'm too stunned to move. My body is paralyzed, and my mind is racing to figure out my confusion. It sounded like Ace spoke.
With words.
That can't be, though. Ace doesn't speak. He writes, and I speak. I must be going crazy. Absolutely, certifiably insane. That's it. I'm a lunatic. A few ingredients short of a cake. A complete demoniac. I briefly wonder if Ace will visit me in the nuthouse.
But wait. Ace's lips actually moved; his jaw swung on its hinges. And noise –words– actually left with mouth. But his eyes, not his mouth or words or lips, were the evidence of his verbal declaration. They appear hesitant, vulnerable almost. This is what tells me that Ace actually spoke. And his voice is a husky sound, a low timbre that is as smoky as his eye color. It strokes my senses into life, beckoning me closer and melting my senses. I could listen to that sound for an eternity, and that time would never be enough to soothe the ache for his voice I never knew I felt. Ace spoke, and I will never desire his silence again.
And with that epiphany came the hurt, bruising and shattering. He lied to me. Ace lied. All the pain and misery of this past year hit me now. I trusted him. I depended on him. Every time that I secretly wished that he would speak, I convinced myself that he couldn't. But he could. And he lied about it.
It's now, when the pain builds in my chest that the meaning of his words hit me, as if the pain gives me clarity. Ace is asking me on a date? After allowing me to believe for a year that he couldn't speak?
Tears spring to my eyes, and I desperately try to quench their flow, but they come anyway. They slip down my cheekbones at a furious pace. "Why?" I croak, my voice inexplicably hoarse. I jerk back from the hands caressing my cheeks. "Why would you lie?"
He stays silent, and anger allies with the damage he inflicted.
"No!" I scream. "You don't get to play the silent card. Not this time."
Ace nods and attempts to come closer, his strong arms reaching for me. I step out of reach, tears still moistening my face.
He takes a deep breath, and his Adam's apple bobs. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes pleading for my forgiveness. "I'm so sorry for lying to you. I never meant for it to happen."
I scoff.
"It's true. I never meant for it to happen." Ace pauses for a moment, looking to be considering something. "The first time we met I never thought that we would grow close. I assumed it would be pointless to talk to you. I mean, what were the odds that we would become friends? So I didn't bother. But then we did grow close." He takes another pause. "And for me, that friendship grew into a desire for a different relationship with you. One more intimate."
He judges my reaction and steps closer, but I don't pull back. I gulp and speak quietly, "That doesn't explain why you lied?"
"I never told you because..." He sucks in an unstable breath. "By the time we became close, you were already used to the silent version of me. I didn't want you to see me differently, and I was worried that me speaking would lead you to be so angry, you'd hate me."
Ace trudges closer. His arms seek my waist, and finding their goal, they pull me closer. One hand clings to my waist, while the other strokes away the tears still dripping down. "Please stop crying," He whispers. "And please don't hate me. You're one of the few good things left."
I wait for a moment, considering keeping the pain, but eventually nod, and Ace leads me into his embrace. We stand there, allowing the wind to hold us together.
I sigh dejectedly. "I could never hate you, Ace. I'm hurt, but I forgive you, and eventually, I'll forget."
His lips touch the crown of my head. "Thank you." His words fly away in the wind, and we stand there, two broken souls seeking to make each whole. No words are spoken for an eternity, until Ace breaks the peace. "So you never gave me an answer."
I look up at him, directly in those foggy green eyes. They are almost black in this lighting, but I can just make out their green hue. "Yes. I would love to go on a date with you."
A smile splits his face. It's one of pure joy and excitement. "Tomorrow. The date is tomorrow." He starts to lead me back through town to the crossroads. "I'll pick you up at your house at five."
~~~~~
The next morning, I manage to drag myself out of bed and struggle down the stairs to breakfast. While eating, I think about yesterday. The thoughts bring a smile to my face. However, I'm worried that any moment now I'll wake up and it'll all be some glorious fantasy. If it is a dream though, I hope that I sleep just a bit longer.
Finishing breakfast, I quickly get dressed, barely managing to look presentable before leaving for work. The bookstore looks empty this time in the morning, save for the ever-bustling Mr. and Mrs. Dawson. Bakery scents surround me when I open the door, and I inhale deeply.
"Good morning, Lucilia!" Mr. Dawson calls out from behind a book shelf.
I walk around the large case to see him better. "Good morning."
He stops what he is doing and looks at me, a confused expression on his face. "You're in a good mood today."
"I am?"
"Yes, you are, if that smile is anything to go by," A voice belonging to Mrs. Dawson says slyly. "So who is he?"
Heat rushes to my face. "No one!"
The Dawsons share a look. "Mhmm," they sound together. My blush, I know, is frighteningly obvious, and I want to shove my face between the books. Luckily they drop the topic, and I'm sent to man the cafe counter.
The shift drags by agonizingly slowly, and my eyes unwittingly drift to the clock every few seconds. By the second hour, I'm ready to risk the chance of getting fired by leaving. It's not like I need the job, and I only work once a week. Right as I am deeply considering this, the bell above the door dings, announcing a customer's entrance.
"Welcome to the Owlish Bookstore. Is there anything I can help you with?" I question without looking up from my book.
"Well, you could give me your answer about the date now, my dear."
My head shoots up, and I stare at the sudden appearance of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed enemy of Ace. Nikoli leans his hip against the counter and smiles charmingly at me. I scoot my chair just a tiny bit away.
He tilts closer across the granite before him. "Should I take your silence as a yes?"
I press further into my chair and clear my throat quite loudly. "Um, no. I-uh am going on a date tonight actually."
Confusion streaks across his face and shows in the furrowing of his brows. "I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend."
"No. I said that Ace wasn't my boyfriend."
"So who, may I ask, is the lucky gentleman that has the honor of taking you to dinner?" He inquires calmly.
Laying it on there a little thick, dude.
"Ace."
Nikoli's eyebrows shoot up. "I thought you said-"
The dinging of the bell interrupts his words, and rushed footsteps run toward us. The first thing we see is light brown hair and then a tall body. I recognize the boy as Ethan, as he scrambles towards the counter. "Lucilia, you have no clue how long it took me to find- Who the heck are you?" Ethan demands of Nikoli, who straightens at the threat.
"I'm a friend of Lucilia's," Nikoli states calmly.
Ethan crosses around the counter, coming to my side and draping his arm around my shoulder. "No, I am Lucilia's friend," he speaks with a hint of jealousy. "And you are some pathetic wimp trying to flirt with my friend." Ethan sends Nikoli a mocking sneer, and I stand silently. "Now run along. My friend and I have some very important things to discuss."
Anger flashes across Nikoli's face, but he turns away from the jealous friend and addresses me, "Lucilia, as always, it was lovel-"
"I said, 'run along'."
Nikoli smiles tightly. "Of course." He strolls away, glancing over his shoulder before disappearing from view.
I turn to Ethan and grin. "That was rude," I admonish, still beaming at him.
"I know. Anyway, I need your help. I don't know if you noticed," he sighs and pauses. Then he claims in a panic, "But I walked here. Walked. As in, I left my home, traveled across town to your house, found out you weren't there, walked back to town, asked around for you, and discovered that you work here. And I did it all without my truck, which leads me to my dilemma." Ethan face-palms himself. "I lost my truck."
"You lost it?" He nods. "Are you sure someone didn't steal it?"
Ethan clasps his hands behind his neck and creates scuff marks on the floor. "No, my keys weren't where I left them in my house."
I cross my arms and think aloud. "Are you sure you didn't put them somewhere else?"
"No, I have a specific spot where I put them." He rubs his face tiredly. "I don't know where they could be, if they weren't stolen."
We're silent for a moment, both lost in contemplation. Then Mrs. Dawson enters the room, carrying a plate of gooey chocolate chip cookies. "Oh," she exclaims surprised, then looks at me. "Hello. I'm Mrs. Dawson."
"I'm Ethan, ma'am."
Mrs. Dawson offers us some cookies and turns to me. "Lucilia, the place is practically dead. Why don't you head home to get ready for your date?" I nod, and she leaves with a smile.
Ethan's head snaps to me, his cheeks puffed up with cookies. "What date? Not with that Nikoli guy, right?"
"No." I blush lightly. "It's with Ace."
Ethan smiles triumphantly. "Finally. Took him long enough. So you have a date tonight, huh?" He nudges my ribs.
"Yes."
"Where is he taking you?"
"I don't know actually."
Ethan looks thoughtful and then stunned realization crosses his face, as if hit with something he should have realized a long time ago. Must be about his truck.
Ethan stutters, "I-uh have to go. Bye, Lucilia!"
I stare flabbergasted, as he sprints out the store. I don't think I'll ever understand him.
~~~~~
I stare into my closet, realizing with melancholy that if Alicia and I were still friends, she would have demanded to choose my outfit. I finger the clothing, trying to choose something that Ace hasn't seen me wear before. Do I want something warm and chic? Or warm and casual? I mean, Ace knows me. He understands my choice in attire. Will it look weird if I choose something completely different than my usual clothing? Isn't that what people do on a first date? Wear nicer clothes?
I bang my head against the wall. "Okay, just pick something random. And that's what you'll wear," I speak to myself. I cover my eyes with one hand and grab two pieces of clothing. I open my eyes to see the articles and start banging my head against the wall again. Somehow, I don't think that a neon orange t-shirt and purple skinny jeans are a great first date choice.
I toss them away and stare distraught at my choices. Then I see a pair of black skinny jeans. When in doubt, go with black. I grab them and skim through my shirts, finally landing on a white long-sleeve with black lace across on the shoulders. Then I grab a pair of black tennis shoes. Not overly dressy, but not under-dressed. Perfect.
After getting dressed, I check the time. 4:50. I grab my black purse and slip my wallet inside. I skip down the stairs, hastening quickly to the door and half-hoping that Ace will be on the other side. Peeking through the window, I don't see any sign of Ace, so I backtrack to the living room, taking a seat on the couch. My leg bounces erratically. Time seems to not want to move fast.
The doorbell rings loudly–I recognize it easily this time– and I jump from the couch to calmly walk to the door. Or at least, that was my intention. However, my foot snagging on my other one makes me face-plant the floor. I groan and drag myself back to standing. Then I adjust my clothing, clear my throat, and calmly walk to the door.
Opening the door, I greet Ace with a smile. "Hey."
He gulps for a second, and speaks, "Hi. You ready?"
I take a peak at his attire and immediately flush. Ace looks dashingly handsome. He wears a dark grey shirt that outlines his slim form and blue jeans that caresses his legs. I reach his eyes, and they are trained on me intensely. His eyes then leisurely run down my clothes, and I hope I chose well.
I slip out the door, locking it before turning around to face the driveway. I then immediately face my date with an incredulous expression. "Ace, did you steal Ethan's truck?"
"Borrowed. I borrowed it."
"He didn't think someone borrowed it when he ran into the bookstore practically in tears."
Ace smirks. "He did that?"
"Yes, until he ran out the door randomly."
Ace snorts. "I'm not going to let him live that down." He grabs my hand, guiding me down the stairs and to Ethan's truck. Opening the door, Ace stops me before I can climb in. His breath strokes my face like a brush on canvas. "By the way, you look exquisite."
I blush and quietly stutter out, "You look good, too."
Ace chuckles and offers me a hand up into the truck. After he climbs in, I ask, "So where are we going?" He smirks and shakes his head, remaining silent.
"You're not going to tell me," I state flatly. In response, Ace reaches over and strokes my knuckles delicately. I sigh, but settle down for the ride.
For thirty minutes, we drive on backroads walled in by evergreen trees. They tower and shadow over us, blocking out what little moonlight there is. "Ace," I question softly. "You do know where we're going, right?" He nods but does not answer, and we eventually pull off to the side of the road.
Hopping out of the stol–sorry, borrowed– vehicle, I wait for Ace as he grabs a basket out of the truck bed. Then he lopes toward me, grabbing my hand and directing my into the shadowed woods. A smiles adorns his face, reflected by the dimming moonlight. Leaves crunch underneath our feet, hushing the sound of our steps. Vines brush our sides, and it gives the impression of a secret rendezvous.
The further we walk, the louder the sounds of the night become. Crickets chirp a haunted melody, and the flap of bird winds bring the music to a crescendo. As I tightly hold Ace's palm, the rush of water reaches my ears. My eyes widen in surprise at what stands before me. A waterfall bounces down a tall, rocky cliff. It cascades down into a pool that feeds the creek. The collision to the ground shoots out a spray of chilling water. But all of that, while beautiful, is not what catches my eyes.
A small, wooden awning rests on a rock ledge underneath the waterfall. Shaped like a table with a tilted top, it creates a hollow area to go under without being touched by the water. Ace leads me closer, and the spray of water finally touches us. We climb up a small incline to the awning and crawl under. It's tall enough to allow us to sit up without hitting our heads. Inside, fairy lights stuck to the bottom of the awning casts a soft glow on us. In front of us, the water hits the roof and rolls off. It creates a curtain from the world. It creates a new world where no one can hurt us.
"Oh, Ace," I cry softly. "It's beautiful. How did you set this up so quickly?"
Ace looks around, and the shadows on his face shift. "I found this place when I was trying to run away a long time ago." He sighs and rubs a hand through his hair. "It's been my haven ever since. All I had to do was set up the lights." He glances at me. "You really like it?"
I squeeze his hand. "I love it."
"Good." He shifts closer, picking up a blanket by the wall and draping it over our shoulders. "Now, time for food." He divvies out the food: sandwiches and chocolate cake.
"Did you make these, too?"
"The sandwiches, yes. Cake, no."
We eat quietly, watching the way the light reflects off the water wall. I finish eating quickly because I want to know more about him. Once I'm finished, I look up at him. "Ace, why'd you try to run away?"
"Don't all kids?" He replies stiffly.
"I guess," I trail off. If he wants to drop the topic, so be it. "So, favorite color then."
Ace wraps an arm around my shoulder, bringing me to his side. "Grey. Yours?"
"Turquoise is my favorite, but I generalize it and say blue."
He hums, his rib cage vibrating against my arm. "What's your favorite dessert?" His question floats through the night.
"Rocky road ice cream."
"Now I know what to get next time." The second date implication is not lost on me.
"What's yours?"
His throat bobs as he gulps. "Twinkies."
Disbelieving, I shake my head. "Twinkies, really?"
Ace swallows again. "Don't knock Twinkies."
"Why do you keep doing that?"
His brow wrinkles in confusion. "Do what?"
"Swallow before speaking." I gesture to his throat.
"Oh." His hand snags a tangle in his hair. "I'm not used to speaking to you. I guess I'm still nervous."
I lean closer and stare directly into his eyes. "Don't be. I like your voice."
His eyes dance with mirth. "Just like? We both know you love my voice."
I elbow him. "Favorite fruit."
Ace bellows out a laugh. "Fruit?"
"Yes, fruit," I say defensively.
"Watermelon. Yours?"
"Same."
"Really?" Ace's eyebrows raise, and he asks teasingly, "Are you sure you're not just saying that to make me like you more?"
I poke his side and wag my finger. "Watch it, mister. Or I'll never get you watermelon."
Tugging me closer, he laughs deeply, the noise deep and rich.
"How come we never knew these things about each other?"
Ace wraps a tendril of my blonde hair around his finger. "Because relationships aren't about every minor detail. They're about getting to know a person by how they speak and act."
I think about how true that is. Ace and I didn't know the small things, but I trusted and grew to know him despite that.
"So, it's my turn to question." Ace plays with my hair. "What's your favorite movie?"
I fidget. "Titanic, and just as I accept your Twinkie liking, you accept my movie."
His hands raise in surrender. "Okay. Mine's Taken."
And that's how our night goes. With vague questions and obvious answers. Nothing to deep, nothing to revealing. And yet, the more surface-level questions we answer, the worse I begin to feel. I don't want our relationship to be based off of pointless details and hidden secrets. Not this time. One of us has to share. And I guess it has to be me. If Ace can't accept me after he knows the truth, I'd rather find out now than three months in.
"Ace." I pull away from him and look to the water.
"Hm?"
"I can trust you right?" I whisper.
His gaze focuses sharply on me. "Of course."
"I want to tell you what happened last summer." I begin to cry. Soft tears streak down my face. "But I don't want to lose you. I can't. You're all I have left." I start to hyperventilate.
"Lucilia, look at me." I don't, so he cups my cheeks to face him. "I get in fights on a regular basis. I've been tossed into a cell–by my father, mind you– more times than I can count. Nothing you say could make me leave you."
I breathe, or hiccup rather, and nod shakily. "Okay, so-um, last year I was hanging out with my friends, and it was really late out." More tears come during my pause. "And I was walking with my friends. It was dark. Really, really dark."
The moon was hidden by clouds, only the echo of dogs' barks and the shadows to keep me company. I thought I was safe. I thought my town was safe.
I struggle to breathe and keep my voice steady as I speak, "I was trying to get home. Normally, my parents drove me, but they couldn't that night."
My footsteps sound loudly in the silent street, and I wish there was a streetlight. Anything to chase away the darkness would be welcome.
"And th-there was a m-man." My composure cracks, and I hesitate to continue, tears of pain stream down my face. Ace immediately pulls me close, and I breathe in his smoky scent.
My body is jerked into an alleyway, and I try to scream, but the man won't let me.
Ace whispers, "You don't have to continue. I know what you're going to say."
"I do need to, though," I manage to get out. "H-he dragged me into an a-alley and–" If it was possible for me to break down further, I just did. Tears stream down my face, and my chest tightens in pain. It hurts. It hurts so much. "–h-he r-raped me." Saying those words makes it hurt more. It reminds me that what happened was real. That I lost something that night.
Ace clutches me closer and lays me on his chest. I sob into his shirt, feeling more broken than I've ever felt before. I do not know how much time passes, but eventually I calm down, though hiccups still rack my chest.
"I'm sorry for ruining our date," I whisper into the cotton pressed against my cheek.
Ace's hand strokes my hair. "You didn't ruin anything, Luce. But what I don't get is why you thought I would leave you."
"Because I didn't fight back hard enough. Because I couldn't stop him. Because everyone else left. Because I'm broken."
Ace, while still caressing and holding me, speaks, "Everyone wears a facade, and underneath it is the truth. We're all broken."
I'm silent, and during that silence, I wonder what broke him.
"Now, what did you mean by everyone leaves you?"
I compose myself, so I don't break down. Then I speak monotonously, "I hid what happened almost the whole summer, but the longer I stayed silent, the more depressed I became. I didn't want to be around people, I flinched at loud noises, and I had horrible nightmares." I take an unsteady breath.
"When my parents found out, we reported it to the police, but they couldn't find the guy. And by then, I was so withdrawn from everyone my friends stopped wanting to be around me. My parents, though they lasted longer, eventually took more business trips to get away from me."
Ace crushes me further to his chest, and it's only then that I realized I had started crying again.
"Why'd they have to leave, Ace? What did I do wrong?" I choke in my sobs.
"Nothing," he states firmly. "You did nothing wrong. They did, do you understand me? They were wrong to leave you." I hug him tightly, unwilling to let go. "And I will never leave you."
I snuggle into his chest and yawn. His chest shakes with his laughter. "C'mon, my sleeping beauty. Time to get you home."
I sleepily slide down the incline and wait for Ace. He joins me, and I stare wistfully at the awning. "We'll be back," Ace assures me.
"Okay."
Ace and I travel slowly back to the truck, neither of us wanting the night to ends. I climb into Ethan's vehicle–I'll have to apologize to him tomorrow– and rest my head against the window. Right before my eyes slip shut, a warmth settles over me and a hand slips into mine.
~~~~~
"Lucilia, I need you to open the door. The keys are in your pocket."
I mumble incoherently.
"Luce, gorgeous, I need you to wake up just enough to give me your keys."
I snuggle further into the warmth, and it sighs. Then I start to notice the in-and-out movement of my warmth. My eyes creep open and meet grey cotton. I turn my head, and Ace smiles down at me.
"Sleep well?"
I nod and blink, slowly realizing my position against Ace's muscled chest. I'll be embarrassed about this tomorrow, but tonight I'm too tired. I reach into my pocket, jerkily transferring my keys to Ace.
He chuckles, and I hear some jingling. A moment later, artificial heat hits me when Ace steps into the house. The door closes behind us, but I ignore all other senses but Ace's smoky smell. I even manage to dismiss Ace's sudden tense body.
"What are you doing with our daughter?" A voice yells, very infuriated.
I jerk up, awake and all too aware. Ace places me on the ground, and I face the direction of the nearby voice.
"Dad? Mom?" I shriek.
And that's when Ace's fist flies.
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