Sun Poisoned (The Sunshine Series) (26 page)

And it wants more.

In an instant, I’m standing, moving closer to him. I'm sure Myles is going to pull away any second but I push my body harder into him, circling my arms around his waist as his hands stroke my hair gently, like he's not sure what else he's supposed to do with them. He's close. So close I can feel every muscle in his chest, every whisper of a breath he lets in or out.

I don't
know how we end up on the bed.

I barely realize that I'm on top of him, my fingers inching up his dark t-shirt.

“Sophie” His voice is hoarse and just above a whisper when he pulls away far enough so I stop kissing him, but our foreheads are touching.

I hear him, but I don’t stop. My hands grab onto the soft cotton of his shirt again, pulling it up until his hip bones are exposed.

That's when he stops me.

His hands firmly grasp mine, untangling them from his shirt.

“Sophie,” he repeats into my ear.

I'm thankful for this because I doubt I'd be able to look at him right now.

One of his hands cups my jaw. “I want to do these things with you,” he says in a low voice. “But you're confused right now. You don't really want this.”

I back away and scoot off of him so we’re no longer touching. I stare at the blue quilt under my knees. He's right. What the hell was I doing?

“I—” it comes out of my mouth, but no other words follow it.

I stand up again, resisting the urge to rip the bandages off of my shoulder and temple. I don't deserve them.

Myles doesn't move or make a sound and I walk over to the glowing green window. I lean my head toward the sounds I hear outside through the curtain.

Children laughing. Lawn mowers. Birds singing.

Life.

“
I don't know what to do with myself.” I swallow again.

I stare at my hands, knotting them together and trying to keep them from shaking. Myles is so quiet that I don't notice him stand until he's in front of me. I wrap my arms around myself.

“What else?” he murmurs near my head.

“
I don't belong anywhere,” I barely say as I shrug. I'm not aware I feel that way until it leaves my mouth.

I can't go back to New York, I can't go to Mom's, or Boo and Trei's. None of them know. The only other person who knows besides Myles and I is Jade. And he wants to be alone.

So I come here to Myles' empty house and the sound of people living outside, only to be reminded of what a horrible and selfish person I am.

Myles has my hand in his again. I glance at him briefly, a flash of his eyes searching my face, before I stare down at the carpet.

“You belong with me,” he says softly. “And your family. And Boo, Trei, and Jade.”

I squeeze my eyes shut at the words.
“I can't do anything.”

He moves closer.
“None of them can,” he says slowly. I want him to hug me, but I don’t dare make that move, still afraid of what I might do. “They'll do what they think is best. What they think will help.”

“
But nothing will. It's all screwed up,” I whisper.

“
I know.” I hear him take a deep breath.

We stand like this for I don't know how long. Long enough for the green glow to fade into darkness, for the lawn mower and birds and children sounds to fade into sounds of crickets chirping.

I'm starting to feel sick from the burns. If I move at all, I know the shaking and the nausea will start to get worse. So I let Myles guide me to the bed, and we sit down next to each other. I'm ready for the whole horrible conversation of what's wrong with me and why did I do what I just did, but it never comes. Myles feels my neck with the back of his hand.

It's so quiet.

Staring down at my legs, I know that new feelings are going to start forming. The skin-crawling-sweaty-palmed -nightmare is just around the corner. It's good that I'm not alone.  

“
Thanks for letting me stay here.” My voice comes out raspy and small. “Thanks for—” I start, but I don't know how to finish the sentence.

Myles leans down to unlace my boots, never taking his eyes off of my face.
“It's okay,” he says as one of them falls to the floor. “We don't need to talk.”

I nod, already leaning back on his bed and resting my head on his pillows. The other boot drops to the floor as I do this, and I curl my legs up so I can reach under me to cover myself with his blankets.

“You didn’t sleep last night,” he states after a minute. He stands, adjusting the blanket around my shoulders, though I have it wrapped tightly around me.

“
No point.” I close my eyes just so I don’t have to think about where to direct them.

“
You should let me help you.” His voice comes from somewhere in front of me.

I sigh, rolling over on my back so I can stare at the ceiling instead.
 I wish I hadn’t done that. Sighing only causes a few left over tears to break loose, which I quickly swipe away.

“
I’m not saying you’d feel better. Just that it might make it…easier.”

“
I don’t want to sleep,” I squeak out, taking another deep breath.

“
You don’t have to.” I feel him lean on the edge of the bed, so I have to look at him. He’s staring at the comforter beneath his hand. “But I can make it stop.”

I sit up more so my back is against his headboard. Immediately, I think back to the last time I was in this bed.
That seems like ten years ago. “What do you mean?”

Myles glances at me for a second.
“The sadness. I can make it go away.”

I want to take time to think about it, but I can’t. I can’t think anymore.
“Okay.”

He scoots over
and I move over so he has room. Myles stares straight into my eyes, the blue of them seeming to shine in the dying light. “Just close your eyes.”

I do as I’m told, getting one last good stare in at the ceiling before my eyes shut. Myles lies next to me, just like last time.
 

“
Now what?” I choke out.

“
Clear your mind the best that you can,” he says close to my ear. “I know it’s hard, but just try.”

I take in a deep breath then blow it out. I imagine that I’m still staring at the ceiling or the wall, determined to make my mind as whi
te and clean as their surfaces.

“
Good,” Myles says quietly, touching the top of my head with his palm.

I blink. Concentrate harder.

Then I start to feel it.

The edges around whatever was anxious
, sad, and scared begins to blur before fading, then disappearing altogether. I try to think about Stevie, Jade, any of it, and the thoughts get pushed back. Instead I feel lighter, better.

Myles takes his hand away and moves it to my face, stroking my chin. I open my eyes so I can look at his face studyin
g mine.

“
Okay?” he asks.

I remove his hand from my face and sit up slowly. I blink again.

I don’t feel upset, or sad, or angry. But I don’t feel right either.

“
I don’t like this.” It barely leaves my lips.

Myles moves closer so his arm is behind me now, his hand closes in on the back of my head, gently cradling it.
“I didn’t take enough.”

I flinch, jerking my head away.
“No. It worked,” I say. “I don’t like how it
feels
.” I shake my head, trying to get rid of this light, easiness that’s worming through my brain. It’s no use, I still feel clouded.

Myles lets his hand fall to the blanket between us.
“What’s it like?” he asks gently.

“
I don’t…feel the way I did,” I say. “But,” I have to pause to think of how to describe what I’m experiencing. I’m supposed to be missing Stevie right now. I’m supposed to be worried about my brother.

Remembering the look on my brother’s face when he came out of that room.

Does Jade have some magical cure to not feel bad? Will he ever be able to forget what it was like when they told him that the person he loved more than anything would never hold him, kiss him, speak to him again?

“
I feel guilty.” I finally realize it.

After a long stretch of silence, Myles speaks.
“What can I do?”

“
Just. . .” I start. I don’t want any of this. I just want to disappear. “Just knock me out, okay?” I tell him. “I don’t want any dreams. Nothing.”

He nods once.
“Okay, lie down then.”

So I do. His hand grazes my temple, turning everything almost instantly black. That’s all I remember about existing for a while.

Pink and Black

Chapter 12

“To know me as hardly golden is to know me all wrong”—Band Of Horses

It’s like being held under a heavy, warm, blanket. I try to think, wrap my mind around myself, but it just doesn’t happen. Every time I try to grasp onto one thing or another, they turn to dust in my fists, only for those grains of thought to get swept up into the darkness.

Then I’m awake.

One minute I’m weightless, floating in the dark fog. The next, I’m slammed back down into my body and everything that’s happened in the past few days.

It’s sunny as far as I can tell through the curtains in Myles’ room. I’m still covered, groggy, and warm
in his bed. I try fighting off the onslaught of fear that wants to break its way through my clouded mind, and when it keeps stabbing at me, I sit up.

Myles is nowhere to be seen. The door is shut. It’s quiet.

In case I still have a fever, I climb out of bed carefully. The bandage is still there when I reach up to check, but it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Myles is in the living room, sitting on the couch when I venture out of his room. The TV is on, a laugh track playing, but he’s looking at me.

“You’re awake,” he states.

I nod, wrapping my arms around my waist.

He makes a move to turn off the TV but when I glance at the action he decides against it. It’s better than no sound. Then he stands, coming toward me but not touching. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that right now anyway.

I have to clear my throat before I speak, and when I do, my voice comes out gravelly.
“How long was I asleep?”

I notice now that Myles is in different clothes than he was wearing when I went to sleep.
“Two days.”

I begin to panic. Where is Jade and what’s happening? Is there a funeral? Does anyone else know? What do people think Myles and I are doing?

My heart must be beating a little faster with all of these questions forming because Myles says, “It’s okay.”

When I can’t ask the questions, Myles continues talking.
“There’s uh. . .” he says, thinking of how to word it. My eyes dart to the white carpet beneath my socks. “A service this afternoon.”

“
A service,” I whisper. Like saying it out loud will make it any more real or easy to deal with.

I see him nod out of the corner of my eye.

“Where does everyone think I am?” I ask, my voice raising a little.

“
I told them the truth,” Myles says, taking another step forward. “And Jade noticed you were hurt.”

I swallow. Then I suddenly realize what day it is.

Monday.

The Radiohead show.

“What about tonight?” I ask, my voice tight.

“
I talked to Jamie,” he says. “They moved another band into your spot.”

I let out a breath, and I’m not sure if it’s relieved, but I don’t deserve to feel disappointed about it. Not when all of this is going on.

I’m about to dive head first into all of the reasons I should feel either way when Myles’ voice breaks through and distracts me. “Can I see?”

He’s staring at my neck and shoulder, inspecting me. I nod.

His fingers trail around the Band-Aids, settling on the one at my collarbone where he bit me. I haven’t had the strength to remove it.

“
Do you want to leave this one?”

I shake my head.

The Band-Aids are slowly peeled off, and when the air hits my skin it only stings for a little bit. When I glance down there’s red and irritated blotches that I was expecting on my shoulder, but there’s nothing on my collarbone. No trace of how close we were days before.  

“
Does it hurt?” he asks.

The question makes my eyes well up. I have to squeeze them shut so the tears don’t fall.

I nod.

“
Where?” he asks.

I can’t tell him. I can’t begin to describe what this is like. How do you tell someone that part of your life will be missing from now on? That you have to look at the face of someone you love and see that they feel the same void, that they can see the same hole punched into you? That we’ll all be walking around as people with missing parts from now on?