Tomorrow's Lies (Promises #1) (19 page)

“It’s not okay,” she cries onto my shoulder. “I am not okay. I am damaged and ruined.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

“What?” I cautiously inquire.

She pulls away, knees up, guarded as she tells me, “I’m so messed up that a part of me wants you to take me right now. I want you to have sex with me and erase the horror of what
he
did to me in every way you can. And I know it would work, throughout the ‘during’ part.” Her eyes meet mine, sad and watery. “I’m terrified of the afterward. Will it all come back to me, always? I’m worried I’ll never be able to be with you and not think of
him
when we stop. And Flynn,” she sobs, “I can’t do that to you. You deserve so much more than the broken girl I am.”

Wrapping my arms around her, I whisper, “Jaynie, Jaynie, can’t you see I want the broken girl you are.” I hold onto her more tightly. “You think
I’m
not damaged?” I laugh humorlessly. “We just need to take this thing one day at a time. No one ever said it would be easy.”

“And that’s okay with you?” she mumbles against my shoulder.

I lean back so she can see how serious I am. “Yes, of course it’s okay.”

“You’re really sure you’re up for dealing with me and all my issues?”

“Hey.” I nudge her chin. “I’d be lucky to have you any way I can. And who knows? Maybe someday you’ll even agree to be my girlfriend.”

Her eyes widen. “You’d really want
me
for a girlfriend?”

It breaks my heart to see so much doubt in her eyes. “Are you kidding? I’d be the luckiest guy on the planet if you’d agree.”

Jaynie sits for a moment, pondering, I suppose, until she opens her mouth and says, “I agree.”

“To which part?” I am cautious; I don’t want to misunderstand.

There’s no mistaking her intentions, though, when she says, “I want to be your girlfriend, Flynn.”

“You do?”

She nods. “Yes.”

And then I think,
to hell with it
.

With my arms around my new girlfriend, I kiss her again and again.

Jaynie

T
he following evening finds me tromping through the summer-thick woods with my first-ever boyfriend, Flynn. We are heading back up to our spot.

Under the pines, we can’t keep our hands off one another. We become singular in purpose, drawn to each other like moths to a flame. We kiss until our lips are swollen and we taste of each other.

Flynn has his hands all over me this night, and I love that there are no stirrings of panic. However, I am troubled by more confusing thoughts.

Still torn between lust and fear, I want more of Flynn. But I’m frightened of the potential aftermath. I have no desire to be tortured by images of the violence inflicted on me once we stop.
So, maybe we should keep going?

On this night, I remain oblivious as long as Flynn is trailing kisses down my neck. And when he stops at the v of my top, he flicks his tongue out, tasting the salt on my skin. I am left aflame, but in the best sort of way.

As he works his way back up my neck, I watch as the muscles bunch up in his arms. Flynn holds himself above me, straining triceps and biceps in full view as he tenses to keep his own lust at bay.

When a light moan escapes me, Flynn’s lips crash into mine, hot and wet and urgent.

I am losing control, dizzy with lust and uncertainty. I don’t know if we should keep going, so I push at Flynn’s chest. “Wait. I need a break.”

He pulls away from me quickly, a blur of hotness as he rocks back on his heels.

“Shit.” He rakes his hand through his sandy-toned hair, his chest rising and falling as he collapses onto his back. “I’m sorry, Jaynie. I just got caught up in the moment. I wasn’t thinking clearly—”

Sitting up, I place a hand on his forearm. “No, Flynn, you were fine. I was just as caught up as you. But I’m still confused.”

Peering up at me, he laments, “I should have slowed up sooner.”

I lie down on my side next to him. “I’m good, I swear. I just need a minute.”

Cautiously, he asks, “How do you feel now that we stopped? It’s not the same as yesterday, is it?”

I think about it, facing my fears straight-on. When I purposely think of Mrs. Giessen’s son, he’s there. But images of him aren’t popping up in my head unexpectedly like yesterday. As long as I keep him pushed away, I seem all right.

“There’s nothing really bad right now,” I tell Flynn. “Nothing I can’t deal with, at least. It’s not like yesterday.”

Blowing out a relieved breath, he says, “Maybe yesterday was bad because it was the first intense physical experience since it happened.”

“Yeah, maybe.” My tone is cautious, and I share my underlying concern with Flynn. “Every time might not be like this, though. You were right when you said none of this will be easy.”

Flynn chuckles. “Hey, nothing worthwhile ever is.”

This boy is too good to be true. “I don’t deserve you,” I whisper.

He admonishes me with a stern, but kind, “Stop saying that.”

I curl up in his strong arms. “I wish we could sleep here all night.”

“Yeah, me, too. But we can’t.”

He’s right. Nightfall is near and we’ll have to return to the house soon, in case Allison comes back from town early. We’ve been pushing it lately, but our luck could run out at any time. Still, I beg to stay a little longer.

“Sure,” Flynn says. “We can start back in a few.”

I snuggle in closer, breathing in Flynn’s distinctly boy scent. “Let’s talk about something, okay? It’s too quiet up here.”

Most of the animals and birds have gone to bed. The only noise is that of the water rushing far below the nearby cliff.

Depositing a light kiss on the top of my head, Flynn says, “So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Anything, really.”

“Well, okay.” He ponders for a minute, and then says, “Why don’t you tell me more about you. Like how your life was when you were little. You never talk about your childhood, or your life before you got in the system.”

I suppress a bitter laugh. “That’s because there isn’t much to tell. Nothing I care to talk about, that is.”

I sense Flynn’s gaze, and I look up to find he’s frowning. He thinks he’s upset me. But the truth is I’m fine. To satisfy his curiosity, though, I rack my brain for at least one positive story from my days with my mother. It’s not easy, but I finally come up with one nice tale.

“I thought of a story I can share with you,” I say. “One that’s sort of happy.”

Flynn squeezes my shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me any stories if you don’t want to.” His tone is kind. “I’m cool with talking about something else.”

“No,” I reassure him. “This is a good story. I don’t mind sharing this one.”

“Okay,” he says.

And I begin…

“So, no surprise, since I am where I am, but my mom rarely had time for me when I was a little girl. She wasn’t blatantly mean, she was more neglectful. My mom was too busy with men. She was always chasing men, worrying about men, trying to get one to stick around. You know the type, right?”

Flynn nods. The neglectful mom may not be part of his story, but it’s a common story, nonetheless, in the foster care world.

“Anyway,” I go on, “this one day, out of the blue, my mom comes into my room and tells me we’re going on a day trip.” I smile, despite myself. “I was so excited, Flynn. We
never
did things like that. So, we struck out on the road, and the whole time she kept telling me we were embarking on a real adventure.”

“That sounds fun,” he interjects.

“It was one of her good days,” I say, nodding. “Anyway, we drove to this huge state park.” I pause, remembering how in awe I was. “It was so beautiful there. It
was
an adventure. To me, the place didn’t even seem real. There were all these funky rock formations, I remember that. They were huge and looming and seemed to be bursting from the ground. It was overwhelming, especially to a ten-year-old girl who’d never been anywhere. I thought my mom had taken us someplace magical. And the forest, Flynn, wow. There were trees everywhere”—I motion to our forest-y surroundings—“even more than there are up here.”

“Nice,” Flynn murmurs.

“Yeah, it really was. But the best part for me was that my mom was happy that day. That was unusual for her. Usually, she was completely miserable around me. She told me one time that having me had made her feel like her youth had been ripped away.”

“Jaynie, that’s an awful thing to say to a kid.”

Flynn shakes his head, but I brush it off. “She was like that all the time, Flynn. That’s why the day at the park was so special. For the first time, like, ever, she was happy just hanging out with me.” I smile up at him sadly. “I was never enough. But that day, I was.”

“Jaynie,” he sighs.

I can tell from his tone he thinks my mom was awful, and really, she kind of was. Still, I feel this crazy need to explain her to him, to give him my theories as to why she was the way she was back then, and probably still is today. It’s like with Callie still wanting to know about her mom. Our mothers can do so much wrong to us, and we still strive to absolve them.

“See,” I begin, resting my chin on Flynn’s chest, “my mom was…is… I don’t know. I guess she has mental issues. She’s a complicated person is all I know.”

“Aren’t we all?” Flynn retorts.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I think back, recalling my mother in a way I haven’t in a long while. “One of my therapists told me she’s probably a narcissist, prone to histrionics.”

“What does that mean?” he asks.

“Basically, that she only thinks of herself and her needs. And that she always comes first. My mother’s problems were
always
larger than life. Or,” I amend, tapping my temple, “she wanted you to
think
they were.”

“I’ve known some people like that,” Flynn muses.

“She was always trying to ‘find’ herself, I remember that. She used those words a lot. I guess I always kind of knew I’d end up getting in her way. It became clear as time passed, and I grew more aware, that her search for whatever kind of inner peace she was seeking would always come at my expense.”

Flynn shakes his head. “That was totally not fair to you, Jaynie.”

“I know.” I sigh. “But what can you do. The hard part was she promised me so many things. She promised to always protect me. She swore she’d never leave me. On and on, she’d commit to a lot of things. But she never backed anything up. She never came through. When I think about it, my mother broke
every
damn promise she ever made to me.”

Flynn, knowing disappointment all too well, says, “I know how you feel, Jaynie. Most of today’s promises are nothing but tomorrow’s lies.”

“Is that a quote or something?” I ask.

“No, it’s the truth.”

“That’s for sure.” I exhale a long, resigned breath. After a minute of reflection, I say, “You want to know the worst part?”

“What’s that?”

“The one truth she told was the day before she left. She came into my room the night before and told me she had to leave. I thought she meant just for the night. But then she told me the real reason.”

I stop to swallow the lump forming in my throat, and Flynn asks tightly, “What did she say, Jaynie?”

“She said there was no space for me in her life anymore. And, weird as it sounds, I sort of understood. Her issues had become so big that I had to be pushed aside to make room for them. She couldn’t grow and breathe with me
and
her issues in her life. But my mom and her issues were one. That’s why she couldn’t take me with her. I was in the way, and I could be discarded.”

I look up at Flynn and his eyes flash with irritation. He’s angry at the woman who hurt me, my own mother, convincing me I was in the way.

“You don’t believe that bullshit, do you?”

I sit up and shrug, but it comes off more like a flinch. Some wounds cut so deeply they never stop hurting and bleeding, even when you think you have them cauterized.

Flynn sits up and pulls me onto his lap. As he cradles me, I lean into him, needing the comfort now more than ever. “I feel so alone sometimes, Flynn.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. I do, too.”

Only Flynn can truly understand my pain.

“But there is one thing, Jaynie,” he says. “Something I need for you to do for me now.”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me one thing. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Stop thinking your mother’s leaving had anything to do with you. She was selfish, Jaynie. Every person on this planet has issues and problems. Shit, we’re all trying to find ourselves in one way or another. She could have sought out help. Your mom leaving you is unforgivable. She’s your mother and
you
should have come before anything else.”

I know every word Flynn is spilling out is true, and I choke back a sob. Taking my hand, he holds it to his heart until I stop crying.

Under the pines Flynn tells me are the same color as my eyes, we hold onto what we have here, today, and in this moment—each other.