Sunshine (24 page)

I turn toward Myles for his reaction, but all I get is a tense smile from him.
Oh shit.
S
hit
.
Myles knows something. That’s why he’s so tense.
He’s probably gotten some kind of mental image of exactly went on with Barbie and Jack. Judging by his face, it can’t be good. And if he knows this much about Jack, whatever it is, he’ll think he’s close to figuring out my little secret involving Jack. This is so not good.
Myles sits across from at our usual table in the library; I’m sure that he wants to talk.
Taking out a notebook, I start doodling. I need to take my mind off of this before I start feeling sick and give myself away completely. So much for acting normal.
I have to give Myles credit, he’s quiet for about five minutes before he speaks. “So do you want to know or not?” he asks. I’m guessing he’s referring to what was going on in Barbie’s head.
I rip out the sheet of paper I’m scribbling on and crumple it, tossing it to the side. “That depends, was it bad or good?” I don’t look at him; just start a new doodle page.
He sighs. “It just is,” he says.
Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Fine.” I push my notebook away, finally looking at him.
Myles raises his eyebrows slightly, like he was expecting me to say no. He places a pencil down on the table. “Okay. So this is you,” and then he places a pen next to the pencil, “and this is me.” He takes his hand and makes it into a little person walking with his index and middle finder mimicking legs. “And this is Barbie,” he explains.
Great, there’s going to be visuals. “Kay.”
He starts “Barbie” near what I’m guessing would be the end of the hallway, and then he walks his fingers slowly toward pencil me and pen Myles. He glances at me for a minute. “Do you want the edited or unedited version?”
I don’t second guess it; I just want to know it, whatever it is. I don’t want some politically correct, watered down, Myles version. “Give it to me straight,” I say.
He nods as he animates his hand again. “I wonder who I’ll take to the dance now that Jack is out. Thank God.” He stops, I wait. “Right here, I get a strong image of her holding her face, like someone hit her.”
I gulp because it’s not hard to figure out who. “Kay.”
Myles moves “Barbie” again. “I don’t know why he’s such a psycho.” He looks up at me. “Here, she’s thinking about his eyes. How scary they looked at one time.” I can’t say anything. Too busy concentrating on not breaking out in a sweat. Myles continues. He moves hand Barbie near pen and pencil Myles and I.
“This is where she smiles,” Myles explains. Then he speaks for her again. “I don’t know why Jack thought she was such a slut. She seems okay, slut-wise. I mean, her and that kid she’s always with, they seem so…not slutty.”
Her words—or, innermost thoughts, I guess—sound strange coming out of Myles’ mouth. He looks like he doesn’t want to call me those things, which I can appreciate. “Is that it?” My voice cracks.
Myles shakes his head, staring back down at “Barbie.”
Here it comes.
“She was remembering something,” he says. The expression on his face and the tone of his voice are all it takes. I don’t want to know anymore.
“It’s bad,” I gather.
Myles nods, his eyes meeting mine briefly. I stare down as I start scribbling, just so I have something to do with my hands. “Then don’t tell me,” I say.
I can see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I don’t look back. I can’t. I’m afraid of what he might find on my face if I do.
“Don’t you want to know?” he asks softly.
“No.” Because I know it’s about me, and I do not want to go down that road, no matter how many breadcrumbs I have to lead me back to the trail.
We sit in complete silence for a while. Nothing but the sounds of a few teachers talking in the distance about copies they need to get made and the smooth sound of my pen against paper. I know he’s still staring at me. I try to ignore it, but it’s impossible.
“Myles, just let it go,” I manage to say.
No response for a second. Then I feel the cool sensation of his hand pressing against my cheek. To be honest, it feels too comforting to flinch away. I have to look at him. “Sophie, I can’t,” he says quietly. He has that trying to see through me look. I close my eyes. “If you could have seen the things he said about you.”
His hand leaves my face and my eyes open to see him staring down at the table.
Jack could have told Barbie anything. I know even he isn’t stupid enough to tell her the
truth
, but still. Barbie would probably believe it. “Myles.” I gulp. “They’re probably all lies.” That’s the best I can do as a cover up. I pray it works.
Myles stares at his hands. I feel like I have to blow chunks, and my hands are all sweaty. I sit on them. “I know,” he finally says.
He looks like he wants to say something more, but he hesitates. I wait impatiently, just wanting to get this over with. “If he ever hurt you...” he begins in a low and quiet voice. “I don’t think I’d be able to stand for that.” He clenches and unclenches his fist that’s sitting on the table once before looking at me. His face softens from the grimace he was treating his hand with when he sees my face. “I just wish you would tell me what really happened,” he says softly.
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
When he leaves me to go to his next class, I throw up in the bathroom instead of going to mine.

“So can we Puh-leeeease have a movie night tonight?” Boo asks as he shakes all of his junk out of his backpack and into my locker. I wipe some left over perspiration from my forehead.
Do I really want to have movie night with Boo, Trei, and Myles?
Myles, who’s probably going to stay after Boo and Trei leave so we can continue what we started in the library.
Come to think of it, would it really matter if we had movie night or not? Wouldn’t Myles show up regardless? At least if Boo and Trei are there for half the night, he won’t have a chance to ask me anything until later. By which time, I don’t know, maybe I’ll have thought of something.
“Sure,” I answer.
I shut the locker and Myles is standing there. “Hey.” I try to act as normal as possible. “You busy tonight?”
He doesn’t buy it. “I am. But it shouldn’t take long. Why?”
“Movie night,” I answer.
“I’ll be there a little later,” he says before walking away.
Trei, Boo, and I get our assorted junk and return to my apartment at about four. Myles is nowhere to be seen, but I’m not too worried. I figure his being gone has something to do with his “other” self. I don’t even entertain the idea that he’s stalking Barbie or Jack, wanting to know what’s really going on.
A few hours pass by and we start the movies without him. I don’t bother calling his cell. If he’s not going to show up, then fine.
Boo and Trei leave at nine. Still no sign of Myles. But I know he’ll be here. Maybe he saw right through my little plan and just decided to skip the movies and go right for the jugular.
I take a shower and change into the heaviest sweatshirt and sweatpants I can find. I throw on a pair of heavy wool socks as well. I try to towel dry my hair the best I can, but it’s still damp by the time I’m done.
I think about what Myles said about wanting to know the truth.
It makes me feel horrible not even being able to
think
about telling him anything. We’re supposed to be trying to be…er, something more than friends, and I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure that somewhere it says that no secrets are allowed.
But there has to be one exception to that rule. One small little exception that says it’s okay if the lie would save the two people from breaking apart, if the secret would make him run away.
The thought of that is enough to make me feel sick. Before I can think about it for one more second, I hear a soft knock at my door. I open it, and Myles is standing there, a concerned, almost sad expression on his face.
“Hi,” I say quietly.
He gives me a short lived twitch of a smile.
I stand there waiting for him to say something, letting the cold air in from outside. “Can I come in?” he finally asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Oh. Yeah.” I step aside. Myles walks in and I close the door behind him.
“It’s getting cold,” Myles comments after a few minutes.
I sit on the edge of my bed, wrapping myself in my comforter.
The silence that comes next is awkward. I don’t want things between me and Myles to be like this, but I don’t know how to fix it either. I don’t say anything, not wanting to make it worse. I glance at Myles who is staring at his hands. Great. He’s not going to say anything either. He notices me staring at him and he smiles warily, then he returns to looking at his hands.
After another long period of silence, Myles finally speaks. “I’m sorry about today.”
This isn’t what I want. It’s me who’s messing everything up. He’s doing everything right. It’s me that doesn’t fit in this equation. It’s me that’s wrong.
“Myles,” I say too quietly. I clear my throat and try again. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.” He stares at my face. His eyes look like they’re trying to find an answer written somewhere on my forehead. “
I’m
sorry,” I barely whisper.
Because I am. I’m sorry he sees something in me that he thinks is worth all of this. I’m sorry that I can’t tell him anything. I’m sorry that I’m that selfish.
Myles’ eyebrows knit together, wrinkling the skin on his forehead. It’s better this way. It’s better he feels this now than to know the truth.
God, I’m such a horrible person.
“Do you want to know the real reason why I left after your birthday?” he asks out of nowhere.
I don’t know where he’s going with this, but I nod anyway.
“I thought it was because I didn’t want you to find out about me, or because seeing all of that blood freaked me out, but that’s a lie. The real reason was what I
felt
.” He pauses, only glancing at me for a second. “You’re just in so much pain all the time. And the worst part is that I can’t help.”
He looks like he could cry. I hope he doesn’t. I don’t think I could take that right now. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” He shrugs. He moves closer to me, touches my shoulder. I let him. “Could I maybe…”
I stare at the carpet. “What?”
“Hold you?”
I don’t really want to think of all the reasons I can come up with to turn him down. For once, all I want is to be held. I shrug my arms out of the blanket and we move closer to each other.
Myles wraps one of his arms around my waist as I curl an arm around his back. I tuck my head under his chin and his other hand finds the back of my head, cradling it.
We sit like this for a long time in silence. All I can hear is my own breathing, and Myles breathing back. I don’t hear his heart beating, but I was expecting that.
Myles adjusts his head so his cheek is resting against my damp hair. “I didn’t mean to make you upset today,” he whispers.
I shake my head under him. Somehow sitting like this with him, I feel almost like I can tell him anything. Almost. “It’s not you,” I whisper back.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I shake my head again. I can’t say anything else.
He starts running his hand through my hair. I let him do this too. “I know it’s hard for you to talk about certain things,” he says gently. “I know a lot of things have happened to you. Things that shouldn’t happen to anyone.”
I don’t want to think about what he already knows, and I definitely don’t want to think about what he
thinks
he knows.
“I’m not going to ask you anymore,” he says quietly. “I know you may never want to talk about what really happened.” He presses me closer to him and continues stroking my hair. “But maybe one day you’ll want to tell me. Maybe one day, you’ll feel like you’re ready to let me know,” he pauses again. “Just know that you
can
tell me.”
That's it. No awkwardness. No nausea. Neither one of us makes a point to move away from the other. I know I’m falling asleep. That I’m going to let him rock me to sleep like the helpless child I am that never asks for help.
And I want to tell him everything.
But my rational side speaks up from the depths of my comfortable mind.
H
e’ll run, Sophie. He’ll run.

Chapter 23
D-day
“Cold and wet and dirty like the Earth.”-Portugal. The Man.

The rest of the
week
zooms by. From Monday to Wednesday, I can’t even tell that the dance waits for me on Saturday. It’s Thursday and Friday that I become more aware of it; no one can talk about anything else. This is exactly what I did not want. It only reminds me of how close it is, how scary the whole thing is.
One of the only plus sides to any of this is that people are also talking about who they’re taking and who is and isn’t a couple. Barbie is taking someone besides Jack as of Friday afternoon. So plus. Probably the only one I’ll get.
I planned everything out the best that I could.
Jack won’t be there, so that’s a
huge
weight lifted off my shoulders. I won’t have to worry about Myles “sensing” something. I won’t have to worry about any encounters with the monster who has haunted my dreams.
The dance starts at eight, and Trei is coming over at four to help me get ready. Like I need four hours to put on a dress, but Stevie and Jade have to go to a friend’s art show up north, and they didn’t want to miss it. Boo and Myles are meeting us here at seven-thirty. Stevie and Jade are going to gush and take pictures. Then we’re going to the dance. We’re going to drink punch and dance and smile and laugh. We’re going to be normal kids having fun. My nerves are just going to have to suck it up.
I have more than a few hours to kill before Trei gets here and I have to find something to distract myself before I go insane. I try reading, that’s a bust. TV also does nothing for me. So I sit at my piano for about an hour before the playing turns into pounding on the keys as I obsess over every little thing having to do with the dance.
Finally, at about two in the afternoon, I decide to go on a walk. I know it’s going to suck before I even leave the house because the sun is blazing. Going anti-sun-gear-free is not an option. I make sure everything is covered, throwing on my sunglasses, my heavy winter coat, and gloves. Then I pull my hood over my head.
I walk aimlessly around town for fifteen minutes before I cave in and buy a Slurpee, even if it is fifty degrees outside. I see something out of the corner of my eye on my way home; a white, fuzzy, thing sitting in the muddy grass behind the 7eleven.
It’s Malakhi, I just know it’s him. Or rather, Myles. I’m not sure. I walk around the store toward him, his ivory coat shining in the sun with his tongue hanging out as he pants at me. But he has Myles’ light blue eyes rather than his usual one brown and one blue.
Petting him under the chin, I take a sip from my blue raspberry Slurpee as I think about what I’m doing. As soon as my hand touches him, he leans his entire head into my knee, nuzzling it like he’s trying to comfort me.
Despite how entirely bizarre this whole thing is, I think it’s kind of nice that Myles wants to see how I am—in his own weird way, I guess.
“I’m fine. Now go home,” I say quietly.
As soon as I say it, the dog looks up at me, barks once, then turns around, walking into the woods.