False Start (Love and Skate) (16 page)

Rex

He doesn’t speak to me anymore. It stopped without my notice or my permission. I claimed to have hated it, but I actually miss it sometimes.

The feeling of dread needled the back of my neck when I’d returned to the table and saw her gone. But I figured she’d gone to the bathroom. But after a while I looked around for someone to tell me something. Her mom leaned over the empty chair and whispered to me.

“She went home. Something spooked her. Know what it is?”

I wracked my brain for something, anything I could’ve done.

“I don’t. Let me text her.”

My texts and calls remained unanswered. I left the table early too preoccupied with what happened to Hayes. I contemplated going over to her house but decided against it. I knew from her father that there were layers and layers to Hayes that I didn’t even know. And while I wanted her to trust me enough to tell me, I didn’t want to push her. I knew how that felt, all the walls zeroing in when all you wanted was space.

I drove around town and ended up back at the riverfront. I sat there for hours and almost regretted the tickets I’
d bought, the trip I’d planned for us that morning. I didn’t even know if she’d go with me.

Finally giving up on calling or texting her, I went back home only to find the girl that I loved on my doorstep wearing one of my button down shirts and jeans, leaning on my door. My heart shattered as I saw her crying. Her whole body shook with emotion. She hadn’t seen me yet. Whatever I’d done, it was a doozy.

“Hayes, are you okay,” I asked climbing the stairs.

“I thought you were home and just ignoring me. And I left my phone in the crock pot again.”

“I would never ignore you. And I swear that crock pot makes more phone calls than you do. Come here,” I picked her up, she helped by looping her arms around my neck. I fumbled with the lock and opened the door while she held onto me. She could hold onto me forever if she wanted to. I lifted her the rest of the way effortlessly and set her on the bed.

“Talk to me Hayes. If I did something, let me apologize. But honestly, if this is going to continue, you and me, then you have to stop running and shutting me out every time it gets rough. You called me on that shit before. Running out on me is like…”

“A hypocrite.” She answered for me.

“
Kinda, yeah.” I hated to agree with her. Calling her any name felt so wrong, down to my bones.

“I know. So first I need to apologize for that. And then I need to show you something.”

“So apologize,” I smiled, letting her know that she was already forgiven.

“I’m sorry, Rex. I’m sorry for so many things. But right this moment, I’m sorry for running from you, from us.”

“You’re forgiven.” I murmured.

“Just like that?”

“Yes. Now, what are these many things?”

She blew out a heavy breath and stood in front of me. She still trembled and I longed to cease it. I reached out for her, “No. I have to do this.
You called me perfect. I asked you not to, and you stopped but only in front of me. I went into the kitchen tonight and heard you talking to Owen. But I realized the only reason you thought I was perfect was because I let you believe that. I worked to break down your walls but I didn’t let you into mine. You can trust me fully, but until now I didn’t trust you fully. So this is me, letting you in.”

“Okay,” I answered. I had no clue what she was talking about.

“It started when I was fourteen. I started having trouble keeping up with everything. It was all self-inflicted, ironically. I was overwhelmed with what most people would have no trouble juggling—school, clubs, sports, grades, home. I always felt like I was bloated inside, all the stress and worry. The pressure was too much to bear.”

I had no idea what she was talking about.
I reached out to hold her hands and she was already crying. She began to unbutton her pants and I shot my hands out to stop her.

“Please, Rex. I’ve never shown anyone this before.
Don’t stop me.”

She pulled off her pants one at a time and lifted her right leg to prop on the bed. She pointed to her thigh and I could see tick marks, like someone had marked the number of days
they were incarcerated on her skin.

“
I did this to myself with a razor or sometimes with a knife in the treehouse.” She stopped, letting me process the fact that the little box of knives she kept in her treehouse was more than some tomboy hobby. It was the same place she hid to hurt herself.

“
Sometimes I cut once a week, sometimes twice a day. It depended on what was going on. It was kinda like I was a balloon with too much helium. When I got filled up, I cut a hole in myself to relieve the pressure. There’s more in the other leg too.”

I let out a breath I’d been holding since she unbuttoned her pants. It crushed me to think that there was no way for her to get her stress out except to mar her beautiful skin. She put her leg down and I felt the beginnings of tears in my eyes. I wished I’
d been there to stop the fourteen year old Hayes, to hold her. To give the young Hayes an outlet.

“When my thighs got too scarred, I started here,” Now she was undoing my shirt
starting at her neck, button by button. If it wasn’t so damned heart wrenching, it might be sexy. I folded my arms over my chest and clenched my fists in an attempt to be strong as she finished whatever it was she was doing. She dropped the shirt at her feet, but I didn’t see any scars there. My angel reached behind her and I knew what she was doing. Her eyes never broke contact with mine. I wanted to look but at the same time I didn’t. The gray lacey bra dropped to the floor and tears followed it.

She dragged in a breath, “Then I started cutting here,” She placed her hands over her breasts and lifted them slightly. I broke at the sight before me. Underneath them were more whitened lines, all in a row. My tears joined hers and I reached for her, no longer able to stand the distance between us. She stopped me again, jerking her arms from my grasp.

“One more thing,” she assured me.

Then she took off her trademark bracelets one by one, it seemed to go in slow motion.

No, God, please no.

One arm clear, I could see the scars already, mostly the same as the others, but longer. But as she cleared the other arm, I knew I hadn’t seen the worst. She held her upturned wrists out to me. “I didn’t mean to. I just got out of control and this one,” she pointed to a cut a little wider and deeper than the rest. “This one hit a vein, a big one, and before I knew it, I’d woken up in a hospital and I was strapped down to the bed.”

“Now,” I begged her.

She nodded and I pulled her to me, she sat on my lap, facing me. We cried together like that for hours. Neither of us cared that she was naked. Sex had nothing to do with the intimacy we’d shared
together. I knew she’d hid something from me, but never imagined it was those scars. I’d give anything, even my own life, to take that pain from her. She shivered once and I pulled a stray blanket over her shoulders and wrapped it in front of her.

“Are you always
gonna see them first?” She whispered as she held me tighter.

“What?”

She huffed out a deep breath, “When you see me, are you gonna always see the scars first? I can’t take that from someone I love as much as I love you.”

“Angel, when I look at you I see your strength. I see your beauty and your love for everyone around you. I might not even have seen the scars if you didn’t show them to me. I will always see the woman I love when I look at you and nothing else.”

She darted away from me. “You love me too?”

“I think I’ve loved you since you first came to this apartment. I just can’t believe you love me.”

She leaned forward, still holding the blanket around herself. We were both painfully aware that her show and tell had turned into something more with our confessions. She leaned forward, straight for my lips, but then last second diverted to the side of my face. She sucked my earlobe into warm mouth while her hips churned a rhythm that would put a belly dancer to shame. “I do love you, Rex Macon.”

“You can’t do that, Hayes. You’re making me insane.”

She pulled back and pouted, “You’re not gonna let me stay?”

“Yes, of course I am. But only with clothes on. We just shared something here, Angel. I just want to hold you—protect you from the world.”

“You don’t want to kiss me,” she complained.

“Look at me,” she turned her blue eyes back to mine, “I want to kiss you until you can’t breathe. I want to kiss you until you are incoherent and the only thing left in you is satisfaction. But tonight, I just want to be here with you—just be.”

“I don’t deserve you,” she smiled, almost quoting me verbatim.

“Then we’re at an impasse G
et dressed. There’s just so much a guy can take.”

“Ok, ok.” She gave in. Instead of picking up her clothes, she went to my dresser and grabbed one of my army green t-shirt
s and went into the bathroom. I got up and picked up her clothes and locked the door.

This was just the beginning of talking about this. I needed to know more. Did she still cut? Did she get help?

She came out of the bathroom and she, if possible, was twice as stunning as she’d been before. There was something about her exposing herself to me like that, trusting me with everything, that made me want to never let her go. I never intended to let her go.

Hayes walked ove
r to me and took me by the hand, leading me to the bed. I was already in my pajama pants and as she walked to the bed, I could see the teases of lace peeking from the bottom of my shirt as she moved. We lay in my tiny bed together. I had so many questions but didn’t want to pain her any further.

“Ask me,” she breathed, her fingers ever in my beard.

“Do you still cut yourself?” I braced myself for the answer. I already knew if the answer was yes—I’d give anything to help her stop.

“No, it’s been years. I’d lie if I said I didn’t think about it from time to time. But the desire’s not there.”

I leaned in to kiss her, stamping the truth she’d just spoken to my lips, feeling the honesty in her response. Her lips were always warm, always tasting of cake.

“Will you tell me if that ever changes—tell me if you ever feel the need to again?”

“Yes. It felt so wrong keeping that from you. I don’t ever want us to keep anything from one another.”

“
Well, then I guess it’s my turn.”

Her face fell and since I couldn’t stand for her to
be sad anymore.

“Mine is a good secret. I’m not ready to divulge yet. I still have planning to do.”

She pouted her lip out, “I guess I can let you keep good secrets.”

“I love you Hayes. Goodnight.”

“And I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

“You’re late for work, by the way,” I chuckled.

“Screw it. Vera’s been late more days than I’ve had off. Anyway, I’m not ready to let you go—like ever.”

The next couple of weeks, we balanced each other out. We spent more time together and every day. I was sure she would tell me she was finally sick of me. But she never did. My plan was completed. All I needed was her permission.

We explored so many different things together. It had become her mission to help me discover who I was as Rex. I’d found out several things. I discovered that I hated curly fries. I found out that I loved going to piano bars with her—and I loved her face as she swayed with the music. But most of all I loved who I was when I was in her presence. I was content.

So I just had to convince her to go along with the rest of my plan to make both of us happy.

I took her to dinner, at the first place I ever took her, Crustacean. I’d ordered our favorite cake and she’d made it herself, for a customer under a pseudo name. I’d picked it up and put it in her refrigerator. She’d given me a key to her place and depending on our schedule
we either spent the night at my apartment or her house.

“What’s the matter with you,” she said stealing one of my egg rolls.

“Nothing, why?”

“
Broodified.”

“I am not. I’m actually very happy and very nervous.”

“About what,” her demeanor faded.

“If you’re done, we can go find out.”

“I am now.”

I took her back to her place and my stomach was in knots. She could say no to all three. She could say no or yes
to some and not all. I let her get comfortable while I stomped a path in her wood floors.

“Ok, what’s the big deal,” she asked. It occurred to me that most people would assume the worst. They’d assume something bad would happen or that my questions would be negative. But not Hayes—she always assumed the best.

“I have three questions and you have to answer each truthfully.”

She nodded her agreement.

“Question one: Do you want cake?”