Bray

The memory…

Blood dripped from my fingertips like little crimson beads, pooling on the floor beneath the chair. Each drop actually sounded more thunderous than the last, as if in death the body’s senses heighten. That little voice in my head, the one telling me I was tickling the threshold between sanity and despair, had finally won.

Elias was gone. I felt alone. So alone. I had grown so apart from my parents that we talked only on special occasions. They gave up on me a long time ago, and so I gave them the space they seemed to want from me. My only friend, Lissa, wouldn’t understand me if I sat her down and tried to make her understand. Although she had a big heart, she was much more comfortable watching another’s problems from the sidelines rather than wanting to be a part of the solution. I had no one. But worst of all, I didn’t have Elias. I had left him, moved away from my life with him in Georgia, because I knew I didn’t deserve him. I was too messed up; I had far too much baggage that I was too afraid and ashamed to set at his feet. I just wanted him to be happy.

Dark clouds littered the evening sky, but nothing would come from them. Choking incense burned heavily on the side table, and in intervals the coils of smoke were broken apart by the wind creeping through the opened window. Buried beneath the fragrance, a layer of metallic blood lingered. I could smell it like vinegar pressed against my nostrils, taste it in my mouth and in the back of my dehydrated throat.

But nothing was more potent than the memories. In my final hour, they had come back to haunt me, and all I had the strength to do was try to force them away. I gazed beyond the choking smoke, my eyes heavier with every troubled breath. The sound of Lissa’s voice out in the hall suddenly paralyzed me. The fear of her stumbling upon my gory predicament caused my heart to quicken. Soon though her footsteps faded as she shuffled down the hallway.

I closed my eyes. The painful memories still pressed against my skull, tearing holes through the backs of my eyes. The pictures were so clear, so lifelike and so cruel.

And I was powerless to stop them from tormenting me.

I could feel the early morning spring rain against my skin, the coolness of each drop on my cheeks and my girlish bare shoulders. I ran with thirteen-year-old Elias through the pasture near Mr. Parson’s pond—two gullible, free, young barely-teenagers with little worry in the world except getting caught and grounded, or forced to eat ramen noodles for dinner. We headed out in a mad dash and jumped into the water with a great splash. Elias fell beneath the surface and swam toward my legs, grabbing me at the knees. Just like he had always done when we came here. I kicked my legs wildly, trying to get away, laughing so hard that brief tears formed in the corners of my eyes.

Elias emerged from the water, pushing back the soaking mop of dark brown hair on his head.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” I said.

He splashed at me gently. “I do too,” he said. “Who says we can’t?”

I chuckled, covering my mouth with my hand.

“School. Our parents. They might have a problem with it.”

Elias lay back, floating atop the water with his arms stretched out beside him.

“You know that boy in Mrs. Rowe’s class, Brayden Harris?” I began. “I think he likes me.”

Elias lifted, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I want to learn how to kiss,” I added. “Like a real kiss with tongue, y’know? I don’t want to look stupid when I do it for the first time.”

“You don’t need to even have a boyfriend, much less be kissing.” There was a strange edge to his voice that I couldn’t place.

“Oh come on, teach me how, please,” I begged. “I’ll be embarrassed!”

“No.”

“Why not?” I splashed at him. “I know you kissed Mitchell’s sister before. Mitchell told me all about it.”

“I did not kiss her.”

“No?” I narrowed my gaze at him. “So then you’ve never French-kissed? Ever?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking somewhat unconfident. “Sure I have. Just not Mitchell’s sister.” He visibly shuddered and made an awful face.

“Then who?” I tried crossing my arms, but it made me bob precariously in the water.

“That’s none of your business,” he said, crinkling one side of his nose. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to kiss and tell?”

I rolled my eyes and splashed him again.

“You suck,” I said.

He looked faintly stunned, and the whites of his eyes became more noticeable. I laughed because I thought it was funny how he was so offended by such a generic put-down. But I always did like to push his buttons, so I added, “You suck big, hairy, disgusting—”

A tsunami took the breath right out of my lungs and replaced it with dirty pond water. I choked and coughed and tried to rub the burning water from my eyes, only making it worse since my hands were wet.

“Damn it, Elias! I hate you for that!”

“No, you don’t,” he said matter-of-factly.

I twisted my bottom lip between my teeth and snarled. “OK, so maybe I could never hate you”—I rolled my eyes for added effect—“but if you don’t help me practice and I get made fun of when I do it wrong the first time, it’s on your ass.” I rounded my chin arrogantly.

“You’re hopeless, Bray. You know that, right?”

I could tell by the surrendering tone of his voice that I was going to get my way.

“Please?” I whined.

“All right, I’ll try to show you,” Elias agreed with hesitant words that he almost swallowed. “I mean, it’ll be weird kissing you like that, being my best friend and all.”

My face lit up. “I don’t care! Just be glad I’m asking you and not Mitchell or Lissa!”

We exploded into laughter.

“Yeah, that would be pretty disgusting,” he said.

Elias drew near, placing his hands upon my wet cheeks. For a moment, my lips formed a pucker and I closed my eyes so tight that I felt lines crinkling around my nose.

“No, not like that,” Elias said. “Relax your face and don’t do that smoochy-thing with your lips.”

I followed his direction and when it felt natural, his lips gently covered mine. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and my whole body tingled in a way I had never felt before. My belly swam like warm mush and fluttered and made me feel weird between my legs. I didn’t understand it, but I liked it, almost how I liked it whenever Elias would scratch my back or play with my hair. It was heavenly and warm.