Awaken (24 page)

He took a long gulp of water. I watched the muscles in his neck move when he swallowed. I could hear the water slide down his throat. I looked at the light stubble of hair on his chin, around his lips, and below his cheekbones. My eyes were drawn to his shoulders and the muscles in his arms where veins popped out and glistened with sweat. He was oblivious to my staring.

I looked out at the front of the house.

“When do we have to leave?” I asked.

“Not for a few more days.”

“You mean we have to stay here?”

He looked worried at this. “Is that all right?”

I shrugged and tried not to stare too long at his eyes, light with the sunshine hitting them.

“It beats a detention center.”

He smirked and picked up a screwdriver.

It was then I noticed a pink smooth scar on his shoulder. It began just outside the strap of his tank top but I could see it ran down farther, hidden underneath his shirt. He caught me staring.

“Job injury?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It happened when I was little,” he said.

“What happened?” I asked.

He surprised me by reaching behind his back and pulling the tank top over his head. My mouth dropped open at the sight of long, thin scars that stretched across his chest. From his waist up, there were several streaks of pink skin. I also couldn’t help but notice his toned stomach and how his chest shined with sweat. The scars made Justin even sexier to me, like he was some kind of a gladiator with battle wounds to prove it.

I leaned in close to study the marks. I could tell the accident happened when he was young from how faded they were. As he grew, the scars had stretched and lengthened out so the skin wasn’t puckered, just smooth and light compared to the golden tone of the rest of his skin.

“They look like burns,” I said.

He nodded and took another drink of water. He didn’t look embarrassed at all by his flawed skin. He seemed proud.

“What happened?”

“I’ve always had a thing for fire,” he said. “I’ve just been drawn to it, ever since I was little. When I was three years old, my parents took me camping.”

Justin squinted into the sun as he told me this and I watched his eyes turn amber in the rays of light.

“They built a campfire one night and turned their backs for a second and I walked right into it. I fell across some of the burning branches and it scorched my skin up pretty good.”

I looked down at his chest and winced.

“The weird thing is, when it happened I didn’t even scream, even when the pain of the burn really set in. After you break contact from the heat, it still keeps charring your skin, that’s one of the reasons burns scar so bad. We were in the middle of nowhere when it happened. My parents backpacked in with me so all they could do was put cold rags on my skin. But they said I was completely calm.” He glanced over at me and grinned. “Ever since then, my parents joke I’m fireproof.”

I looked at one of the lighter scars across his chest, below his collarbone. I hesitated and reached my hand out toward it, slowly skimming my finger along its smooth surface. I saw Justin’s chest quickly respond to my touch with a sharp intake of breath. I thought maybe I scared him, or my finger was cold. I rubbed the scar and it felt delicate, like tissue paper. He watched me and something in his eyes was cautious but he didn’t stop me.

I dropped my hand and looked away. “I’ve never seen a fire,” I said.

Justin leaned his head back against the car. “It’s incredible.”

I stared at his scars skeptically. “Why?” I asked.

“Everything. The crackling sound it makes, the smoky smell – the color of the flames. They turn blue, green, orange, yellow, purple. The way fire moves, it consumes you. It’s so beautiful you want to touch it but you know you can’t. I think that’s part of its draw.”

He looked over at me.

“And the heat,” he continued. “That’s the best part.” His eyes were on mine but they were distracted. I could see him picturing it. Feeling it again. “It’s the most powerful force that exists. But people hate fire because they can’t contain it.”

I looked at his chest again. In digital school I learned fire was a threat, something uncontrollable that devoured everything in its path. I grew up watching news coverage of forest fires, building fires, wars, bombs, heat – fire stole more life than any other element. Fireplaces and wood-burning stoves were all illegal now.

“It sounds scary to me,” I said.

He shook his head. “It isn’t. You’ve just been taught to believe that. The trick is to respect it. People don’t understand nature is stronger than we are. It always will be. People hate to be the underdogs.”

I smiled at this. “Not everyone is fireproof.”

He rubbed his chest with one hand. “I could easily fix this,” he said about his scars. I looked down and couldn’t imagine it. They were magnificent. “But I don’t want to,” he said. “I like defects. It’s what sets us apart.”

I followed his gaze and noticed he was looking at my calf.

“That’s my only scar,” I said. Justin reached his hand out and ran his fingers delicately along the tender spot on my leg where the skin was swollen and puckering under the wound. Healing. His fingers sent waves of electricity up my leg, through my knee, all the way to my thigh. He met my eyes again, his fingers still on my leg.

He smiled. “It’s a good one,” he said.

I couldn’t look away from him. My eyes were locked and my head was dazed. Justin slowly moved his fingers to my wrist and flipped my hand over so my palm was facing him. My heart pounded at the touch of his skin. He studied my wrist and lightly rubbed his fingers along the outline of my tattoo. I felt my breath stick in my chest.

“I like this,” he said. The wind picked up and sent a breeze toward us, ruffling my hair around my shoulders. The sunshine was so warm I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my neck. I was acutely aware of my senses again. That always happened when I was with Justin. The heat of the sun intensified, the trees rustled like music, the smell of engine oil was thick in the air, and the touch of his skin heated my entire arm up to my chest and down to my stomach. He looked away and I felt my breath begin to come back.

I hesitated and found the courage to pull my arm down until the palm of my hand rested against his. I brushed my fingers against his warm, rough ones. This moment, this tiny gesture, was one of my bravest acts. One of my greatest risks. After a long moment he pulled his hand away. He sat up straighter and his jaw tightened and the liquid in his eyes hardened, even against the sun.

He took a deep breath. “You’re driving me insane, you know that?”

I couldn’t help but smile since that’s what he did to me on a daily basis.

“You’re the one stripping,” I informed him, and waved my hand over his bare chest. He stared at me, completely baffled like it never occurred to him what kind of effect he had on women. For the first time, I realized he probably didn’t know. Justin didn’t think about himself.

“Maddie, this can’t happen,” he told me. “And torturing me isn’t fair.”

I lifted one shoulder. “I’m not trying to torture you,” I said. “I’m just dropping subtle hints.”

He raised his eyebrows at me. “Subtle?” he said. “Is that what you call your little dance of seduction at the club the other night?” He looked at me square in the eye and I felt my face heat up.

I tried to play innocent. “I just got lost in the music.”

“Oh, is that what that was?”

I looked out at the yard and laughed with embarrassment. “Maybe you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be,” I said.

“
I’m
making a big deal out of it?”

“It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me.”

He blinked back at me and creased his forehead.

“I’d be happy just to make out. If you want to, I’m cool with it, that’s all I’m saying.” I stared down at my feet and wondered where I was getting the nerve to speak my mind.

“You are the strangest girl I’ve ever met,” he said, like he thought I was joking. He picked up his water bottle and gave me a sideways glance. “Have you ever kissed anybody?” he asked, and took a sip.

I smirked. “There aren’t a whole lot of opportunities in the digital world. I did practice on my hand once. It didn’t do anything for me.”

Justin coughed on the water he was swallowing and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

“Did I just say that out loud?” I mumbled.

He was half coughing, half laughing. “Yes, you did,” he managed to say.

“Delete, delete, delete,” I said, and pushed an imaginary button in the air. “I really miss that feature.”

“No, that’s the good stuff. People always want to delete the good stuff.” His eyes lit up. “That’s a cool idea, though. What would you say, right now, if you could immediately delete it, so no one read it?”

I stared at him and blurted out the first words that came to my head. “I love your lips,” I said.

Justin pulled his head back with surprise and stared at me.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“I’m just being honest,” I said, and threw my hands up in the air. I stared at his puzzled face and leaned closer. “Do you ever stare at your lips in the mirror and get hypnotized by the sight of them?”

He blinked at me a few times like I was nuts. I watched a red hue stain his cheeks. “Maybe we shouldn’t play this game,” he said.

“No, no, this was your idea. It’s your turn.”

He turned and faced me. With his entire body. Then he turned my shoulders so I was facing him as well. His long legs straddled mine. I tried to swallow but my throat was too tight. He held me with his eyes.

“I care about you,” he said, and his voice turned low and serious. “More than I feel safe caring. You make my heart do some reallyw eirdt hings.”

I stared back at him with shock.

“I’m just being honest,” he said with a small grin.

“You want to delete that?” I asked. It was the greatest thing I’d ever heard in my life.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to get you mixed up in my life. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. But I do.”

“I thought you were attracted to me.”

He fixed his eyes on me. “Of course I am. Who wouldn’t be? Look at you – you’re stunning.”

I blushed and looked away. Stunning? Me?

“And you don’t even know it, which might be one of the coolest things about you,” he added.

“Okay, feelings are mutual,” I managed to say. “So then why can’t you let it happen?”

Justin shook his head. “Didn’t you hear anything I said yesterday?”

“Didn’t you hear anything I said?”

“God, you’re stubborn.”

“You’re stubborn and stupid,” I said.

He grinned at me, a wide grin that made his dimples stand out. “You’re so charming when you’re honest.”

“Why are you so determined to fight this?” I asked. He scooped up my hands in his. He stared at me, through me.

“I need you to listen to me. Okay?” I nodded and felt my hands burn. “I’m not stupid. I see what’s sitting in front of me. But – ” He looked away for a moment as if his thoughts were also blurred when our eyes met. “Here’s the reality. I’ll be gone in a couple days and who knows when I’ll see you next. In a month or two? And after that a couple times a year, for a few days here and there? You have too much to give to settle for that. I won’t let you settle for that.
You can do better
”

“Don’t worry about hurting me, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I want to get hurt. At least I’ll feel something for a change.” I stared him straight in the eyes. It was a relief to finally say these things out loud.

He let go of my hands. He didn’t say anything, he just watched me. I stood up and walked toward the house. I knew Justin wouldn’t come after me. And he didn’t. But maybe I was getting through to him. He forced me to open up all my senses, to imagine a lifestyle different from the one I settled for. Maybe I was having the same effect on him.

Justin spent the rest of the day working. He went down to the basement and only came upstairs to grab water or something to eat but his earpod was always in and he was always mumbling into it. I didn’t want to bother him so I kept to myself. Without my phone, computer, or flipscreen I didn’t know what to do. No music, no chatting, no television. I didn’t want to complain but a simple TV would have been appreciated.

I wandered into the guest bedroom and rearranged the clothes. I neatly stacked all the sweatshirts and sweaters on shelves in the closet, organized according to size. I coordinated the shirts and blouses in matching color combinations like they do in online stores. I grouped the shoes together neatly on the closet floor from smallest to largest.

I went into the kitchen and made a sandwich. I ate dinner alone. After I was done, I sulked back to my room and sat on the floor with my back against the bed. I picked up my purse and dumped its contents on the carpet, searching through it for anything to entertain me. I found some ChapStick and put that on for nothing better to do. I looked around the room and wanted to scream. The house was too quiet and I ached for my wall stereo or my ceiling canvas.

As if sensing my impatience, someone knocked at the door. I said to come in and Justin slowly tapped the door open. He had showered and changed into sweatpants and a white T-shirt and I could smell soap drifting into the room. His hair was still damp and it looked shiny in the light. He hesitated in the doorway as if there were an invisible barrier blocking him. I sat up straighter against the bed frame.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” I said.

He asked me if I needed anything and my right foot shook back and forth. I reminded him I wasn’t used to being so unplugged.

“Unplugged?”

“I’ve never gone a day without my computer. And I don’t have my phone or my music or my ceiling canvas or a TV.” I stared up at the ceiling. “This is sort of like an alcoholic going through withdrawal.” My foot shook again and I wondered if there wasn’t some truth to that. Maybe I had been addicted to technology. Maybe my brain physically was having withdrawal from so much constant stimulation.