Old Wounds (15 page)

I smiled at her again. “I-it’s okay, S-Sophie. W-we can ssstay as l-long as you w-w-want.”

My body felt weak when she smiled at me again, excitement shining in her eyes. I followed her, thinking she was going to sit down, but instead she went to a different section. After moments of scanning, she reached out and grabbed a book, shoving it at me. “You don’t have this, but you’d like it.”

I read the title:
Of Human Bondage
by W. Somerset Maugham. I must have looked shocked, because she laughed. “It’s not crazy-kinky or anything like that. It’s kinda dark and tortured.”

With that, she turned and I followed her to the armchairs. We sat in adjacent chairs and I couldn’t help but steal glances at her out of the corner of my eye. She was so enthralled by the books she’d chosen. It was interesting the way her face shifted expressions as she read different excerpts and how her lips moved as she read each word. I wondered how many times she’d read each one.

I read the introduction to the book she’d handed me and I knew I’d probably enjoy it. Of course, the minute she said I’d like it my mind was made up. I was going to buy it. I was also going to buy those books for her. I was sure that she would refuse or try to keep me from doing it, but I was going to find a way.

After awhile, my cell phone rang, startling me out of my plotting. I dug it hastily out of my pocket and checked the caller ID. It was Stephen. I’d forgotten to check in with him.

Without even saying hello, I said, “I-I’m s-sssorry. I-I f-f-forgot. I-I’m f-f-fine.”

“How are the movies? Are you in one now?”

“Uh...” I didn’t know how to respond. Did I tell him the truth? Was that okay? I was a horrible liar, even over the phone, so I just went for it. “We-we’re in a b-b-bookstore n-now.”

“Oh. Did you get something to eat?”

“Y-yes.”

“Do you know when you’ll be heading back?”

“N-no, b-but p-p-probably sssssometime ssoon.”

“And you’re having fun?”

“Y-yes, S-SSSStephen.” Sophie smiled down at the open book

“Then I won’t keep you. Just make sure you call me.”

After I told him that I would call him again soon, I looked at Sophie. She was still engrossed in one of her books. It wasn’t until I snapped the phone closed that she looked up at me.

“He always keep such close tabs on you?” I nodded, not feeling the need to tell her that typically I never did anything but go to school and come home, so there wasn’t much of a need to keep tabs. “That’s gotta suck.”

I just shrugged and we went back to reading. After awhile, I knew we had to leave because I feared her father would send out a search party for us. Stephen would be his second-in-command. “W-w-we should p-probably go now.”

She looked at her wrist, even though she wasn’t wearing a watch, and sighed. “Wouldn’t want Tom to think I ran off.” She stood and I did the same, taking the books from her hands and walking toward the front of the shop until I felt her hand on my arm. “Those books go back there.”

I turned to find her pointing toward the stacks. “I-I-I know. I’m b-buying them.”

She looked suspicious. “Not for me, I hope.” I shrugged. “You can’t buy them for me, Elliott.”

“W-why not?”

“I’m not a charity case, that’s why. If I really wanted them, I could buy them myself.”

I frowned. It was just as I had anticipated, but I shook my head. “N-no. I-I’m buying them f-for you. Ch-Ch-Christmas p-presents.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Christmas is months away and I’m not getting you anything, so I can’t accept the presents.”

At least she was being honest. I sighed. “F-fine. I’m b-buying them f-f-for mmmmme, a-and you can b-b-borrow them an-an-any…w-whenever you’d like.”

She glared at me and I could tell she was trying to figure out a way to talk me out of buying the books again, but how could she do that when I’d made it clear I was buying them for myself? She exhaled loudly. “Has anyone ever told you that you can be quite annoying?”

I smiled, hoping that I wasn’t really annoying her, and then I proceeded to the register.

The ride back to Damascus was pretty chill. I’d smoked a little before we left and Elliott’s choice of music amused me. I’d liked just about everything I’d heard on the ride to D.C., but for the ride home, the music was just so perfectly suited for a nice toasty buzz. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he planned it that way.

Elliott was an incredibly nice guy. Not just a nice guy, but a real gentleman or whatever. He hadn’t looked at my tits once. He didn’t smack my ass or make raunchy comments. That was a new thing for me.

Basically it meant he made me really nervous. I mean, he’d even brought me coffee this morning. I knew it wasn’t a big deal or anything, but it was thoughtful and considerate, and who in my world did that?

He called me out about smoking pot. I loved that. He didn’t make me feel bad about it, and just said that I didn’t have to hide it from him. Now that was a notion that made me nearly piss in my pants with fear. Not hide? Jesus. What would that be like?

I realized that smoking pot in front of him wasn’t exactly sensitive. Even if he said it was fine, I knew he probably hated it. But weed wasn’t smack and I wasn’t his mother. If he really wasn’t okay with it, he should say so instead of waiting for me to read between the lines.

I’d truly enjoyed my time with him. He didn’t pressure me and things felt natural between us. Plus, his stutter kept him from saying all the unnecessary shit that people felt compelled to say.

The shit we did talk about was intense, but crazy-cool too. I’d never met anyone who could talk about Johnny Cash and then tell me some screwed-up story about his mother all in the same day. And he didn’t freak out about it; I did. If his mother wasn’t dead already, I’d kick her in her teeth for doing that to him.

The movie was okay. Movies made from books were almost always like that. He seemed to be fine with skipping the last one.

As we pulled up to Tom’s little house, I felt the urge to kiss him. It was strange because I didn’t want to kiss and grope him…although he was totally grope-worthy. The closeness of his body made me tingle, which made me want to be all sweet with him, and possibly even have a real end-of-first-date kiss or some shit.

That was when I kicked myself.

I was not that girl and he was not my
boyfriend
. This wasn’t a date and I wasn’t sweet. Kissing Rusty Dalton? What was next, holding his hand and stroking his cheek? I felt like such a moron, but when he’d asked me which book I wanted to borrow first with that sexy, unassuming smile of his, I couldn’t help myself.

This was messed up.

I
felt messed up as I leaned over the console and pressed my lips against his. My heart started beating faster. What was I doing? My head told me this was wrong. These were fifth-grade antics, so I brought my hand to his thigh. It rested there for only a moment before I moved it up, closer to where the bulge in his pants was growing.

He was hard and that made me happy, because it meant that I didn’t make as big a fool of myself as I had thought with that stupid-school-girl-kissing shit. He wanted me too.

Then his chest heaved as he pushed my shoulders back. Our lips lost contact and I withdrew my hand. I was about to get pissed until I saw his face. His eyes were steadfastly glued to the ceiling of the car and he was panting.

He wanted me. I could tell that he wanted me, so what the hell was going on? I thought for a moment that maybe he was a virgin, but that couldn’t be, since Megan Simons had clearly said they’d had sex. She could’ve lied, but why? Maybe he just liked taking things slowly, or perhaps he was playing hard-to-get. Either way, he didn’t shove me back because he didn’t want me. I licked my lips and breathed out. “Sorry.”

I shouldn’t have touched him. While I was normally impulsive, I should have controlled this better. I should’ve known that a small, innocent kiss was something I could never do. I should have seen that I would screw it up in some way, and I shouldn’t have even tried it in the first place. Now I’d probably emotionally scarred him for life because here he was just dropping off some effed-up girl and minding his own business and then I…

Shit! Why couldn’t I just be a normal girl?

Shaking my head, I whispered, “Sorry,” again.

Elliott turned to me, eyes wide, lips pressed together. He shook his head almost violently as if needing me to know something important. Finally he spoke, or rather, tried to speak. “N-n-n-n-nooooo, S-S-S-So-Soph-Sophie.” That was the worst I’d ever heard him butcher my two-syllable name. “P-p-p-p…”

Without thinking, I ran a hand through his hair and he closed his eyes for a minute. I had no idea where that action came from, but suddenly I was comforting him. I’d never comforted another living soul in my life, but somehow I knew it was the right thing to do. I removed my hand and looked away. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I whispered.

I dug around in the bag in the backseat and pulled out a book. “I’ll take this one first.” He nodded, his lips pressed tightly together again. “Thanks, Elliott,” I said casually as I popped the door open. Once I was standing outside, I leaned down and said, “I’ll see you, Monday.”

He looked at me and his mouth opened as if to speak, but I quickly looked away.

Shit. I felt like an idiot as I shoved the door closed and walked up to Tom’s house. The porch light was on and I didn’t even have to unlock the door, because he pulled it open himself.

“Spying?”

Although his eyes narrowed, he gave me a smirk. “Just making sure the delinquent didn’t manhandle you.”

As Tom shut the door behind me, I said, “Manhandle? Elliott Dalton? Obviously you don’t know him.”

“He’s an adopted kid in therapy, Soph, how well do I need to know him?”

I shook my head. “You’re an ass, just like everyone else in this ignorant town.” Before I could get reprimanded for my use of “unladylike language,” I held up my book. “He tried to buy me some books, and when I wouldn’t let him, he bought them for himself and said I could borrow them. Not much worry about manhandling from a dude that buys classic literature, Tom.”

He gave me a weak, apologetic smile. “I’m not trying to be overprotective, I just-”

“Good, because you’re a little late for that.” I watched as his expression changed. “I’m going to bed.”

“Did you eat?”

I sighed at my pointlessly concerned parental figure. “Like I said, Tom, a little late.”

“What’s that smile for?”

I looked over at Jason as he buttoned up his jeans, his smirk telling me that he already knew what my smile was about. “I was just thinking if there is a god, it’s definitely a chick.
That
was awesome.”

“Glad to be of service,” he said with laugh.

I stood up, tugging down my top and looking around the narrow cave. It was damp and fairly cold, but for some reason, it seemed like a natural place to be. “So how many girls have you deflowered here?”

“Deflowered?” he asked, the laugh still present in his voice. “I’ve never deflowered anyone, Sophie.”

“What?” I was honestly shocked. A dude like Jason would be a great first time. “You’re full of shit. Come on, I’m not your girlfriend. I swear I won’t be offended if you tell me the truth.”

He lit a cigarette and then sat down on a jutted-out rock. “I’ve never had sex with a virgin, Sophie. That’s the truth.”

I smiled as I moved to sit down next to him. “Well let me go out and find you one, ‘cause, Jesus, it’ll be that girl’s lucky day. You know what you’re doing.”

He shook his head. “No, thanks.” I quirked my brow. “Too much responsibility. There’ll have to be hearts and flowers and lots of foreplay.”

“You’re good at foreplay.” That was the truth.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really interest me. I don’t really think it’s a turn-on having to do all the work, while the girl just lies there.” He gave me a look. It was the first time since we’d started the conversation that he actually looked at me. It made me slightly uncomfortable. I didn’t know why, I just knew that it did.

“A girl like you is perfect for me. Experienced.”

I wrinkled my nose.

He saw my expression and quickly said, “Not, like, slutty experienced. You get what I’m saying. You know what you like and you don’t wait around for me to give it to you; you make it happen. I don’t need some sappy virgin that’s going to want me to meet her parents afterward.”

A girl like you is perfect for me. I cringed. I totally didn’t want to get into being perfect for Jason. I stood up quickly, running my hands through my hair. “So can you score acid? I haven’t tripped in a long time.”

I was perfect for no one.

“The last time I tripped, no one was guiding me and there were Tree People and they started out like the Ents in
The Lord of the Rings
but ended up like the tree from one of the Poltergeist movies, trying to eat me and all that shit. So, it’d be nice to—”

“What the fuck are Ents?”

I sighed. Jason was not cultured and I wondered if he even owned a book. “Haven’t you seen
Lord of the Rings
?”

“That’s gay, Sophie. Fucking hairy-footed little people and elves and shit?”

I decided to let it go, otherwise I might geek-out on him. I guess if the movie didn’t have a car chase or something exploding, a guy like Jason wouldn’t be interested. “So, acid. Can you get any?”

“I sell weed, Sophie.”

“So that’s a ‘no’ to the acid? What about painkillers? Does Jerry have a script? Bet he’s on Methylin for his shit, right?”

“Yeah, but he uses those pills.” He rolled his eyes. “He counts out three a day and would probably throw knives at me if there were any missing.”