Kimber (31 page)

            He started
by teaching me about relativity and the right way to exert my energy. He said
it was a lot like playing chess but since I couldn’t grasp that theory, he
taught me by example.

Since
Lena had moved in with me, while Leo and Wes stayed at the beach house, I could
barely breathe without her telling me when to exhale. And even though I am
aware Lena could
see
Wyler, I still haven’t told her I befriended the
boy on the beach. Maybe it is stupid to hold on to a version of yourself the world
had outgrown but with Wyler, I am who I remember myself being. I smile and
laugh and forget that deep down I’m bitter and lonely. I’m not willing to give
those things up just to marry one world with the next.

I
lie, again, to Lena telling her I am going out with the girls to see the latest
vampire flick everyone is talking about.

I
meet Wyler outside the campus gym as the sun kisses the horizon goodnight. I
grab the duffel bag out from the back seat and walk up to the doors. Like
always, I absorb the tranquil effect his warm smile provides me. Visually I
appreciate the depth of his cut off sleeves showing the right amount of skin
and muscle. His calves are amazing too. He holds back his short curls with an
over sized blue headband.

“Are
you canceling on me?”

“No.”
I smile and playfully roll my eyes. “I need to change.” I hold up the duffel
bag.

A
question seems to circle his mind before he dismisses it saying, “Change and
meet me on the treadmill. We need to get your endurance up.”

“Yes
sir!” I say saluting him.

I
last fourteen minutes on the treadmill before my breath catches in my lungs.
The harder I work to breath the harder it is to push myself. Wyler tells me to
keep going, insisting that I have to break my breaking point.

Six
more minutes pass before I slam my hand down on the emergency stop button.
Wyler gives me a two-minute cool off while prepping the punching bag.

Guzzling
down half the water in my bottle turns my stomach. I walk over to the punching
bag bloated and sick. With one glance, Wyler rushes me to the bathroom, not a
minute too soon.

“Let
me guess, cold water?” He asks from outside the bathroom stall.

A
moan is all I can muster.

“Downing
cold water while you’re over heated can shock your system. Hence, the reason
you’re hugging the toilet.”

I
wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and push myself up.

“Well
gee; wish
someone
would’ve said that sooner.” I readjust my ponytail and
open the stall door.

His
brow creases with sympathy. “You look bad.” He stifles a laugh.

I
push past him, find the sink and swish my mouth out with water.

“Why
don’t we get out of here, grab dinner or something?”

I
avert my eyes past my reflection and look at him through the mirror. “No, I
need to learn this stuff.”

“Why?”

And
there it is, the inevitable and elusive question. How many times before had he
wanted to form those three letters into that one word? Now there was no going
back.

My
shoulders slump. I turn from the mirror and face him. “I don’t want to lie to
you.”

“Then
don’t.”

I
shake my head and shrug my shoulders. I can’t force the words out of my mouth.
I rub the back of my neck, my nerves askew.

“Are
you afraid of someone ‘cause, Kimber, you can talk to me. I’m going to help
you, no matter what.”

“Then
help me without questioning me.”

He
steps back, wounded by how closed off I am. How closed off I have to be. If he
could just understand without me having to say it, he would thank me for my
discretion.   

“I
guess…It’s just…I’m not the kind of guy who forces himself into your life. I’m
grateful for what you did for me but I’m not here because I feel like I owe
you. I’m here because I care about what happens to you. And when a friend asks
me for help, you bet your ass I’m going to be there.” 

“And
I appreciate it, really I do, but what happens on the other side of you and I
is not something I’m comfortable talking about. I’m asking for you to
understand that”  

He
looks me over. “You want me to pretend like you’re not keeping something from
me? Good. Bad. It just shouldn’t matter?”

“Could
you really see me as a bad person? Besides what matters is that I am
who
I am when I’m around you.”

“Do
you have any idea how absurd that sounds?”

“No…yes.
I don’t know.” I rub my forehead. “Look, Wyler, I’m not perfect and the
skeletons in my closet are still alive. I’ve been honest with you and
introduced you to the people in my life I care most about and the rest, the
rest is my own personal battle. But if ever I find myself in over my head I
promise, you’ll be the first person I ask for help.”

He
keeps his eyes locked onto mine, considering what I’ve said. “Another fifteen
on cardio then we hit the bags.”

 He
holds the bathroom door open, waiting for me. I smile with relief as I duck
under his arm.

Whatever
frustration Wyler was hiding visually came out physically in our training. We
worked on upper body strength and strikes. Every knuckle on my hands is
swollen, bruised or split open. I didn’t complain though, at least not in front
of Wyler.

Now
something as simple as opening my car door becomes a tortures task. Every
ligament from my chest cries with pain. But before I can enjoy a warm bath Wyler
swore would help, there is somewhere I need to go. The only place, as of late,
I feel capable of finding answers. 

Just
like the last time I was here, I park my car in front of the garden leading to
the mausoleum my mother rests in. It’s here, inside my car, that I find the
pain of the past can be tolerated while retaining the homely comfort of my
mother’s presence. I breathe deep, stretching the tender tightness in my chest
and relax my shoulders.

I
imagine the sassy way my mother would shift her weight and shake her head
whenever the topic of Leo would slip from my mouth. I would talk about him
relentlessly. If it drove her crazy, she never showed it. I can imagine the
piercing level her voice would reach if she knew that I do not plan on running
from Alexandria. Which makes me wonder if Lena ever receives messages from the
dead? I make a mental note to ask her.

My
spit catches in my throat as I swallow. It’s dark so I blink a few times but it
doesn’t change what I see. Leo exits my mother’s mausoleum and walks through
the garden towards me. How had I not seen his truck on my way in?

I
could duck down in my seat and maybe he would go looking for me long enough so
that I could get away. God, am I that lame? I knew this moment would present
itself. I just didn’t expect to be sweaty, bruised and in gym clothes when it
did.

He
strains his eyes to peer through the windshield as he approaches my car. I get
out and stand by the hood. He looks down, back at me and down again. Even in
the moon swept light, I can see blue hue of his dampened eyes.

“I
never made it, to say goodbye. Everything I have to be thankful for is because
of her.” His hand runs through his short hair as he looks back up at me. 

“Yeah,
well, she cared a lot about you.” I feel uneasy. These emotions, his emotions
are ones I only share with myself.

“And
what about you? Do you still care about me?”

I
lean my right hip against the hood, affected by his question. “Of course. What
kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” I take slow breaths, embarrassed by the
sporadic rhythm beating inside my chest, knowing his heart will echo mine.

“I
mean, really care.” He steps closer infusing the air between us with an
intimate vibe.

My
knees tremble. God I’m weak. His sad sexy blue eyes are the only part of him
that betrays his alpha male confidence. I linger in the fact that he would
never be this exposed to anyone other than me.

“I’ve
known you for like, how long? Course I care.” I hear the words escape my mouth
before I can stop them.

He
closes the space between us, twists my hips toward him and pins me against my
car.  His eyes search mine as a smile lifts the corner of his mouth. With my
hand resting gently within his, he presses my hand against his lips. One by
one, he kisses away the pain that punishes each knuckle.

“Better?”
His eyes loom under his brow as his lips hover over my hand.

“Uh
huh.” Is the only competent sound I am able to make.

He
tugs my hand toward him. Instinctively my body follows. I rest my head against
his chest inhaling his hypnotic aroma, sandalwood and rain. He holds me as
though I will slip from his grip.

“When
I hold you like this, my chest feels as though it could explode. Everything I
could ever desire, wrapped within my arms. I need you. Kimber, I want you.
There’s nothing else for me, if I can’t have you.” The ruff exterior of his
voice penetrates his words into my soul.

He
tilts my chin up to him and as his hand slips behind my ear, he feeds my lips
with the soft touch of his. He kisses me slowly but deep with purpose, as if he
is savoring the taste of me. His hips press against me. He makes me feel
invincible. My head swims in a daze as my body melts into his. His hands tighten
around the curve of my hips. My right hand rests against his chest as my left
finds the back of his neck. He nibbles on my neck as I tilt my head giving him
full access.

“I’ll
keep you, safe.” His whisper smothers my pleasure in disappointment.

“Why?”
I ask pushing us apart. He tries to play like he’s bewildered but quickly gives
it up. “Every time! Are you just playing with my head now, or what? I’m sick of
it. It’s cruel and it kills me ‘cause
I
actually want to be with you.
I’m that stupid!” I rub my forehead, feeling hurt and embarrassed and pissed
off that I fell for it again.

“I
want you alive and not stuck in that wall next to Marie!” He nods his head
gesturing back to the mausoleum.

Instantly
I want to hate him for saying it and for the way his words tighten like a fist
around my heart. But I realize that displaced look on his face. He’s scared. He
knows he cannot control what I will do or if I will do anything at all.

 “Leo,
I’m not the girl you control. You never would have loved me if I were.”

“Be
with me.” He pleads taking my face in his hands, resting his forehead against
mine.

I
kiss him once, twice and though my body rejects leaving him, I back away.

“Not
until you can find the right reason to ask me that.”

 FOURTY
FIVE MINUTES in a hot bath and eight hours of sleep later and I am still sore
as anything. I point this out with several exclamation points and sad faces in
a text message to Wyler. When he doesn’t respond I figure it’s because he’s in
class.

Stuck
to the fridge is a post it from Lena. Apparently Leo had picked her up earlier
in the morning.

I
smile. For the first time in a long time, I feel good about how things went
with Leo. Our relationship might not be fixed but at least we know what the
other wants. I guess as ex’s Leo and I will have to find a way to coexist
peacefully.

            Fully aware
of how lazy it makes me, I declare the day as my own. I plop down on the couch,
cover up with my favorite fleece blanket and indulge in a Buffy the Vampire
Slayer marathon.

            I find
myself in a dream before I know I’ve fallen asleep. Images form vividly in my
mind. The nightmare is encased with darkness brewed with the scent of old
rusted metal. I walk in no one direction.

             In the
distance, I hear the laughter of children. I continue on, passing strangers
seeped in sadness.

            The clouds
overhead entomb the world in gray. The scent of old rusted metal returns,
filtering through the air. Rain falls sporadically from the sky. It dampens and
portrays tears on the faces of those who pass by me. Something in the distance
calls quietly for my attention.

 Huddled
under an umbrella, I find a small group of people. One sobs louder than the
others. As I move to get closer screams erupt from behind me. I turn sharply
and find no one there. I turn back to the strangers only to realize, they are
not strangers. Huddled over something my friends form a group. I mix in between
them and when I finally see what they are gawking at, I fall and shuffle back.
Vomit rises in my throat. Between their legs, I glimpse their ravenous
temperament as they pick a parallel version of me apart. My beaten, broken and
bloodied body emanates the smell of old rusted metal.

Their
faces are deformed versions of themselves. They all take their turn ripping
belongings from me. Tiffany and Robin fight over my purse. My clothes are
shredded, my wallet lay empty beside me and the necklace I once gave to my
mother now dangles around Amber’s neck. I scream and yell for them to stop. My
voice goes unheard.