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Authors: Tara Brown

BOOK: The Lonely
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I
can't eat any more ice cream. I push the bowl away. I send a quick text,
'Going
to his place. Night'

He
doesn’t answer me. He's still pissed about the whatever and the money talk.

"You
done?" Sebastian looks confused.

I
nod.

"Did
I push you too hard?"

I
nod again, "It's okay. I need pushes. You're the only one who challenges
my quirks."

He
smiles and stands. He takes my hand, without cleaning. His hand is a bit
sticky. I could die but I force myself to let him. He drags me from the
restaurant. We walk back to his place quickly.

"Romance
or horror or comedy or drama?"

I
shrug, "I don’t know. I've only seen a few movies."

He
smiles, "I have just the thing."

Back
at his apartment I discover, 'just the thing' is actually a movie I've seen and
love. I don’t tell him. I let him turn it on and pretend to be surprised. I've
literally seen like twenty movies in my life and he picks the one I love. It
warms my heart, as does his reasoning for picking it. It's his little sister's
favorite movie.

The
movie is called Amelie. It's French and I adore it. It's romantic and fun and I
wish I were her. She reminds me of Michelle in a lot of ways.

"Audrey
Tautou is probably one of the most beautiful women in the world." I
whisper as the movie starts. He pulls me in close to him. The hardness of his
body is somehow comfortable. I love the feel of where our bodies meet. The heat
that lies in the crease between us could light up the world.

"She's
not as beautiful as you are." He whispers. I smile, "Liar." He
laughs.

He
tilts my face up and kisses me. In the flickering lights of the movie I forget
who I am. I let his arms encompass me. I let his body wrap around mine. He
pulls me in, kissing desperately. His hands move in a way that’s new. They're
driven and hungry. Like mine. We match for a change. His hand slowly drags my
shirt up my back. I moan into his mouth. He slides himself against me. The
hardness of him is everywhere. It's heady and rich. My hands are in his hair,
pulling at him, dragging him onto me. It hits before I realize. I've pulled off
my shirt. My bra and naked skin are rubbing against his sweater. He pulls it
off and that’s when I notice it. The sickening feeling filling up my stomach.

The
weight of him against me is too much.

I
shove hard.

I
roll off the bed, grabbing for the waist bin. I lose the small amount of ice
cream and the pizza we had earlier. I gag, trying to be quiet. I leave my shoes
and my shirt. I hug the bin and run for the bathroom. I close the door and sink
against it. The weight of him and the feel of his skin, it was magical but it
came with a flash of something else.

A
dark figure.

There
was someone else in our embrace. They were there. I was watching him through a
tiny crack in the floor. He was holding someone, kissing them. The crack in the
floor is big enough I can see the bad things in the dirty house. I can't close
my eyes.

My
mind closes off before anything else comes up. I get sick again, mostly in my
mind. There is nothing left inside of me.

"What
else happened to you Emalyn?" He is beside the door. His voice is soft.

I
shake my head, "I don’t know."

"You
do."

"I
swear I don’t. My mind won't let me remember." With the door between us I
feel the best I ever have about our relationship. I love having him there but
not able to touch me. All of the things I'm thinking come to a conclusion.
"I can't see you anymore."

"Em.
Don't."

I
swallow and wipe my face, gripping the small garbage can. "I can't. I'm
never going to grow past here. This is it. I'm always going to want to be where
we are. Never moving beyond this."

"I
can wait. We've only been at this a short amount of time." His voice is
desperate.

"It's
cruel to ask you to hold out." Tears fill my eyes, they try to make the
kaleidoscopes but I blink them back. I don’t deserve a different view of
things. "I'm never going to change." I stand and dump the pail in the
toilet. I rinse it out with hand soap and dry it with a towel.

"Em,
don’t do this. You're doing so well."

The
sentence stings coming from him. It shows me the truth.

"You
like that I'm broken. You want to be my hero and my knight. You want me to need
you to keep me safe." I mutter. I pray he didn’t hear it.

I
look at myself in the mirror. I see her still. The dead girl who never made it
out of the scary house alive. I see her. I'll always see her. She is me. I am
not the girl who lived and found food on the streets. I'll never be that girl.
I'm the dead girl who didn’t make it out. I've been living for us both, but I
need to start seeing things for what they are. She is one of the only memories
I have of the dirty house. She is the only one I need.

My
dead fish eyes stare back at me. I splash water on my face and let it come in
and take over. I'm not afraid when I open the door. The look of terror and fear
that was on my face, has traumatized him. I know he won't touch me again. Even
if I beg him to.

He
looks hurt and beaten down. I walk past him. I feel for my cell in my pocket
and pick up my runners. I don’t hunt down my shirt. I would rather be nearly
naked, and just in my bra, than collect my things and see him.

I
leave.

I
don’t say anything.

There
are no words.

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

 

"He
just wants to see you. Just once." Her eyes are shiny and desperate.

I
shake my head, "Why? So I can look at him like he's a rapist again? So I
can throw up when he touches me?"

She
slumps on the bed, "Can't you just be his friend?"

I
swallow down my bile, "No. I can't. He makes me think things. He makes me
want things. But I'm not strong enough to have them."

She
squeezes my hand, "Em, you are. We made it this far."

I
smile, "I know. I'm happy about this far Shell. I like it here. I want to
finish school and have a normal life. I'm cool with my normal being what it
is."

She
shakes her head, "No. I don’t believe it." She gets up and leaves the
room.

There
is a knock on the door after she is gone for a minute. I see her keys on the
bedside table and moan. I climb off the bed and open the door. I can't breathe
when I see him. He steps in and closes the door. His hands reach for mine. His
skin burns me. His eyes are desperate and wild.

"W-what
are y-you d-doing here?" I am almost frozen in fear.

He
steps back and presses his back against the door, letting go of me. I step
back, making a large gap between us.

"I
needed to see you."

I
like that word need. I like that he needs me. I'm a selfish bitch.

"I
needed to say goodbye in person. I never got to say the things I wanted
to."

My
heart aches instantly.

"I
love you, Em. It's silly and fast and too much for what I get in return. But I
do. You've got me on the run, chasing you all the time. You have all the cards
and I don’t even care. I'd chase you around the world." His voice drops
off at the end and becomes a forced whisper.

His
hazel eyes are shiny and complicated. "I've thought about nothing but you
for the last couple months. And even if I see that you're right, I can't seem
to make myself let go of you. Even though I refuse to see it all, the look in
your eyes says all the things you won't. I know, in my heart, you won't ever
heal. You won't ever get past this. I can’t force myself to give up on you. So
I am leaving. It's about the only thing I can do. I need to sleep and not see
your face every time I close my eyes. I hate that you think I want you broken
and injured so you need me."

I
sigh, he heard me say it. I wanted so many things from him and the acceptance
that I'm a hopeless freak was never one of them.

"I
can't force this between us and I can't live with the look you give me, that
makes me feel like some kind of monster. I'm leaving the school. You don’t have
to worry about the gym or anything. It's all yours again."

I
don’t feel better.

He
steps forward and kisses my forehead. His breath is soft devastating warmth on
my face. He turns and leaves. He chooses survival over me. It's no different
than what I have done. We are both just trying so hard to survive me.

I
turn and collapse on the bed. I have schoolwork to do, but I curl in a ball and
turn on the TV. I turn on Amelie and wish I were Audrey Tautou.

My
phone vibrates.

'Hi
.'

I
drag my fingers over the top of it,
'He left me. He left me broken. More
broken than I already was.'

'Do
you need the doc?'

I
sniffle and heave,
'Not yet.'

'What
do you need?'

'To
be normal. I would die to be normal.'

'Don't
die. Give Dr. Bradley a chance.'

'Next
week.'

I
leave it at that and curl into the bed.

 

Weeks
pass.

I
don’t run anymore. I don’t need to. The running was for self-preservation.
There is nothing left inside of me to save. I study like mad and watch Netflix.
I increase the number of movies I've seen by hundreds.

It's
just before Christmas break when Stuart is driving me to the Doctor's office. I
had avoided Dr. Bradley when I was seeing Sebastian. I didn’t want her telling
me how poor of a decision it was to bring another victim into my mess. I didn’t
want to see the truth of it all in her eyes. The truth that no matter how hard
he tried, I would screw it all up.

I
catch Stuart's eyes in the rearview, they aren’t watching Shell, they're
watching me. Shell nudges me, "We'll be right outside, okay?"

I
nod, "K."

My
phone vibrates. I answer, "Hi." I always sound impatient with him
now. He annoys me by existing.

"You
need to remind her that you're still not sleeping okay."

I
shake my head and shoot Shell a look, "How do you know that? Maybe I
am?"

He
laughs bitterly, "I know you're not."

"How?"
I ask softly.

"Do
as you're told." He isn’t laughing anymore. He's annoyed.

I
wince, "K."

He
sighs, "That is a letter. It’s not a word. Can't you just speak like you
have something of an education?"

"I'm
doing fine in school."

"I
know that. Nice work on the grades by the way. I have to admit the straight A's
surprised me. Between the whatever's and the k's, I figured you were
doomed." His voice lightens. I don’t know what the game is we're playing.

"Thanks."
I say sarcastically. I don’t even know how he knows I got all A's. I was so
relieved to get good grades, with all the drama and heartbreak. It's one good
thing about OCD, good grades.

He
sighs again, "Call me when she's done. I want to talk to you about
something important."

I
hang up the phone and glare at Shell, "you told him I wasn’t
sleeping?"

She
shakes her head, "I've still never spoken to Uncle Daddy Weirdo. Not even
kidding. I don’t know him."

My
eyes find Stuart's in the mirror. He makes a face, "I don’t know about
your sleeping patterns. Jeeze. I don’t even talk to him. You're the only one
who has ever heard his voice."

I
tilt my head in disbelief, "You've never met him or talked to him?
Ever?"

He
shakes his head, "Never. Not even kidding. Dude found me at my boxing
ring. My trainer came up after a fight and asked if I was interested in a job.
Said that the guy watched the fight and needed someone to drive for him."

I
frown, "You took a job based on that little information?"

He
snorts, "I get paid a hundred grand a year to drive your ass around. Hell
yes, I took the job."

My
stomach drops, "Who would pay that kind of money?" My brain whispers,
'not good people.'

Shell
giggles, "And my ass."

His
stare leaves me and becomes deadly sexy.

Shell
raises her eyebrows, "That’s not all you're doing to my ass though."

I
grimace, "Gross. Focus people. Jesus. So he hired you from a boxing ring?
He clearly wanted someone who can handle them self. When did he hire you? I
thought you were a ninja?"

He
shrugs, "UFC. It's kickboxing. Same thing as being a ninja. He hired me
the beginning of the summer. He told me you would pick the city and that I
would live there. I was pumped when you chose Boston."

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