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Authors: Stephanie Witter

Six Years (13 page)

BOOK: Six Years
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Downstairs I met Mrs. Bell at her door and my smile didn't disappear even when I took in the dark rings under her eyes. Seeing someone getting sicker by the day was disturbing.

"I'm your new neighbor!"

"What?"

I pointed above us. "I just signed to rent the apartment."

"Come on in and tell me everything. I even bought a tea that should be more to your taste," she said, inviting me inside with a smile stretching her chapped and thin lips. It was obvious she felt alone as a new energy seemed to buzz inside her at having a guest. It tore at me to think what this woman's life had been. It was made of mistakes, a heartbreak and an estranged son. It was then it struck me how short life could be and how everything could flip on a downside fast.

"Let me do the tea and go sit down," I instructed and she didn't put up a fight. She was too weak for that. Her smile went from amused to bittersweet.

Five minutes later, I was on the old couch and she was in her armchair, both of us sipping our tea, mine smelling and tasting far better than hers. "It was time for me to move out of my parents’."

"Did you have a fight with them?" she asked me with genuine concern and it felt weird as I realized Mrs Bell knew nothing of my life and the coldness of my home life.

"For that we’d need to talk." I sipped my tea and blinked when my eyes watered when I burnt my tongue. Or maybe it was something else, but I didn't want to think about it. "My parents never showed an interest in me. They went to the doctor with me when I needed it, but they never cuddled me or read me bed time stories. And don't get me started on kisses and telling me they love me," I said with my eyes down on the amber liquid in my blue and white tea cup.

"I heard about your older sister. She died in a car accident, right?"

I nodded and looked up at her. "A few months later they decided to have another child. Maybe they thought they could replace Kelly and that it would dampen their pain, but they got me and I'm the opposite of Kelly."

"What do you mean?" she asked soothingly and it was good to have someone ready to listen without being nosy about it. When I was a kid I had Nolan and now his mother. I never would have thought that I’d be talking with her. I had hated this woman, resented her, for so many years…

I sighed and shrugged half heartedly. That memory was always hard to me both because it happened a couple of months after Nolan's departure and I was hurting and because I was alone to face this. I never told anybody about it. "When I was twelve, I heard my mother crying and my father trying to comfort her in the living room. I wasn't supposed to listen to them. It was late and I had school the next day, but I heard her anyway." I bit my lip and willed my heart to settle down. I shouldn't be affected that way so long after. "She said that I wasn’t her Kelly."

Mrs. Bell put her tea cup on the coffee table next to her unopened mail. She leaned forward and tried to hide her cringe when she moved, but I saw it anyway. She coughed twice before she took a deep breath and it passed. When her clammy palm touched my hand still clutching tightly my cup, I let a tear fall. It was safe to show her that it was hurting to have my parents so distant. It was safe because I knew she had nobody to tell.

"They're missing out on an amazing daughter, girl. Don't forget that and believe me when I say they'll regret it. I made my share of mistakes with my son, and I regret every one of them and I'd do anything to take all those years back. They will feel the same and I hope it won't be too late for all of you."

"I'm not holding my breath. They’ve lost their daughter, the one they cherished growing up. She was a great girl from what I heard. She was valedictorian when she graduated high school, wasn't one to party much, instead studying hard to earn scholarships to go to an Ivy league school. She had a couple of boyfriends that were great guys..." I sipped some more of the tea. "I'm not like that."

"How are you then? You tell me."

"I sucked at school because I hated to be seated for hours and doing homework when back home, I enjoy a party and dance and have fun, I love to go out with guys and I don't have a clue of what to do with my life. I'm not driven like she was and I'm not cute like her."

She sat back in the armchair, breathing louder than before, her lungs wheezing in a way that gave me chills, and not the good kind. "Let me tell you something," she said with a soft voice, her eyelids looking heavy, "You're right when you say you're not cute because you're a beautiful young woman. You're not shy about yourself and it shows. You've got that spark that catches people’s attention and it's better than being simply cute." She smiled at me and it warmed me. "And the fact that you didn't like school, enjoy to party and guys and don't know what to do with your life? Girl, it means nothing. You're eighteen. You have the time to figure it out and settle down. As long as you're sensible and being smart in your choices for the time being, I don't see why you should feel lacking compared to your sister." She chuckled and coughed some more. "Of course, it's coming from an ex junkie who is dying from cancer. I'm not sure my words are those of wisdom."

I chuckled despite myself. "I'm sorry it took us so long to talk. How long have you been clean?"

She sobered, but she was very tired. "Almost three years. When I went to rehab I bought Nolan's books and read them and it made me want to fight. My boy was living his dream and I wasn't a part of it and it was enough of an incentive." She yawned and I stood up.

"You should take a nap. Do you need something while I'm here?"

She shook her head and squeezed my hand when I was standing next to her, readjusting the cover that was falling off her skinny shoulders. "No honey, go ahead. I'm sure you have things to do now that you have your apartment. Come back whenever you want. It's good to have some company and it makes me feel closer to Nolan."

"If only he wasn't so stubborn!"

She laughed as I walked out of her apartment, feeling both refreshed and sad. She was a great woman. It took her having a cancer to open my eyes and give her a chance. Nothing was black or white and Mrs. Bell wasn't all bad either. She had been weak, but she was showing some fucking strength now that she was on her death bed. And she was fighting for her son, even when he wasn’t willing.

 

Where are you? I know you're not working and you're not in your room.

 

Nolan. Of course he would text me, thinking I would be at his beck and call. I read again his text and put my phone back in my pocket without answering
.
Think again, buddy
.
I was done being the silly little girl who would take the pieces of Nolan I could have. I was hurt and he needed to know it even if he thought I was deluding myself when I said that I was in love with him. I wasn't as good as his girlfriend, but I was sure that that kiss in my bedroom meant more than just a simple kiss.

 

 

"We have to celebrate, Little B! I'm going to study in New York next fall!" Big No repeated for the third time. My smile was starting to crumble when it got too hard for me to keep it in place when all I felt like was crying.

I was happy for him, but when I thought about next year without him here every day, I couldn't breathe. I wanted to hug him and never let him go, but it was impossible. And he needed to get away from his mother. I knew it.

"Congrats," I said with my shaking voice. His attention went back to the letter still clutched in his hands. He read the same words again and it made me smile to see him so happy. Suddenly, I felt older than twelve. Things were moving, I was growing up and Big No was about to start the next step of his life and we would drift apart because it couldn't stay the same.

He laughed again and looked back at me still sitting on my bed with my math textbook open next to my notebook. When he saw my smile not as genuine as earlier—he read me like an open book even if some things went above his head—he sat next to me and gathered me in his arms without a word. He knew how I felt.

"Be happy for me, Little B. And one day after you've got your degree from college in

San Fran, we will be able to live next door to each other again. I'm not going to let you out of my life so easily."

I snaked an arm around his narrow waist and held on, my fingers balling his black button down shirt. "It will be so different and it scares me."

"Why?"

"I know I'm twelve and you think I'm just a kid, but I know it will change, that we won't be as close. At some point we won't share everything, we will have other people and we won't be...us, you know?" I mumbled quietly into his chest that expanded over the last few months. He never stopped growing up and getting broader. I would never catch up.

"For the first time I think I’m realizing you’re growing up," he replied as softly. His voice rumbled in his chest against my ear and I snuggled closer. I closed my eyes and soaked up his closeness. Once again, I cursed these six years separating us.

"Wait and see, in no time I will be in high school and..."

"Don't even think about finishing your sentence by mentioning boys. The last time you talked about one, I thought I'd have to tear off my ears," he said in a growl that made me laugh against his chest. "By the way, did you ever kiss him? Caleb?"

My heart missed a beat and I froze. "No."

"Someone else?" he asked, his hands running up and down my back in what should be soothing, but was instead very nerve wrecking. I couldn't put a word to what I felt when warmth took over my body that way, when my belly was strung tight like this. The first time it happened was a few weeks ago the night after my birthday when I had a weird dream about Nolan and me. It had been very disturbing and I still didn't know why I had such a dream. It was so... Grown up and naughty. Just thinking about it made me blush all over again.

"No. I’ve never kissed a boy, yet."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, it means that I don't have to worry about that kind of stuff yet. But be careful, boys can be real jerks."

I looked up at him and saw he was looking down at me. His hazel eyes were soft on me and they were so beautiful. So very perfect. "Boys are already jerks. They think they are so great and that we should always look at them or something. Pff."

His smile broadened and he kissed the top of my head. "Let's get out of here and grab something to eat before going to the cinema. We have to celebrate and tomorrow there's no school."

I pushed away my dark thoughts about next year and jumped up to put on my sneakers. When I left Big No, I felt cold and already alone. I couldn't explain it, but something had already changed and it wasn't how I dreamt things would be. He was just closer to move away.

 

NOLAN

 

She was not answering any of my texts. I was parked in front of the only grocery store in town and for the last hour I had people eyeing my car with suspicion or curiosity. Good thing the windows were tinted black or else some of them would have probably thought it might be a good idea to try and strike up a conversation considering they think they all know me now that I moved away from Riverdale and was fairly well-known. What a joke. These same people warned their kids from me years ago, mainly because of my mother’s drug issue.

I kept my eyes on my phone. The only times it had lit was when Lena called or texted me. At one point I had to answer her. She didn’t buy my lame excuse of being engrossed in my writing, but at least she’d stopped harassing me.

“Answer your fucking phone, Brooklyn. Come on.’’ My knee was jumping, my hands were clammy on my thighs.

I was going back and forth with fear for her well-being and disgust at thinking of her with someone. With a guy. Could she be with Mike?

I grabbed my phone, ready to dial him, but decided against it. If she wasn’t with him I didn’t want to answer his questions. I couldn’t even sort things in my own fucked up mind so hashing this out with someone else was out of the question.

Instead, I wrote another text and let my anger and frustration out. My finger shook as I hit send and my stomach took a nose-dive.

Where was she?

 

* * *

 

BROOKLYN

 

Where are you? Fucking answer me!

 

Ten minutes later came another text.

 

I'm sorry, but I'm starting to worry. I sent you six texts and still no answer. Please, tell me you're okay.

 

I hesitated at this text. He was pleading and I knew he'd go see my parents if I didn't answer and while they would tell him that I moved away, I wasn't thrilled to imagine Nolan with my parents. He resented them on my behalf and it could get nasty quite fast if no one was there to play mediator.

 

I'm fine and alive.

 

Short and to the point. And I wouldn't text him anymore, not tonight at least. I snuggled deeper in the blanket on my new to me couch. On TV I watched a rerun of some TV series. I’d decided to lust after a sexy fictional character instead of my very real Nolan Bell.

My phone buzzed again on the coffee table and I sighed. If I was stronger, I'd ignore it and watch the episode to the end, but when Nolan was concerned, my strength was short lived. It was a fact that was only confirmed when I snatched my phone before it had even finished to buzz. Weak, I was too weak.

 

Fuck, I was about to go and ask your parents.

 

Figured. I glanced back at the screen of the TV, enjoying a half naked man walking around and being his sexy asshole self. But I wasn't that into it.

 

Where are you? Are you with a guy?

 

That got my attention. My blood rushed faster through my veins, my fingers tingled and my chest constricted. Even now I was trying to read more into his words than what there was. But I couldn't help it.

 

Tell me.

 

I blinked and unfroze. I didn't hear the TV anymore, or the couple arguing outside or the dog barking downstairs. I heard nothing but the buzz in my ears and the thump-thump of my heart.

 

None of your business.

 

Almost instantly, I received his reply as I kept my eyes peeled on my phone, eager. It was pathetic, but there was nobody to witness me.

 

Who is it? Don't play that game with me. I swear, you don't want to.

 

"Because you think you can play hot and cold with me while your girl is warming your bed?" I said aloud to the emptiness of my apartment.

 

I thought you didn't care that way about me, it shouldn't bother you if I spent the day in bed with a man.

 

I bit my thumb nail with purple polish nail starting to chip away. Maybe I went too far with this text, but now that it was sent, I had nothing to do but to wait for his comeback. Our friendship used to be healthy, the only healthy thing in our life to be honest, but now it's not the same.

 

Answer me instead of goading me. Who. Is. It?

 

Giddiness filled me. I was just like any other girl, delighted to turn a guy nuts. And yet, I was also angry. These feelings burning inside, consuming me, were hard to follow. These last few years I had been numb to my feelings. I felt things, enjoyed things and got angry and sad, but it was tame, almost as if through a filter. But now, the filter disappeared and everything was heightened.

 

Leave me alone and go back to your girlfriend.

 

Almost immediately, Nolan sent me his answer.

 

I need to see you. I need to know who you are with. I need...you.

 

Without a second thought, without questioning myself and count the pros and cons, I wrote a quick text with my address without anything else. And then, I started to freak out. I ran to my small bathroom and finger brushed my hair while cursing at myself for not wearing any makeup. Cursing my old clothes—cut off shorts and an old black tee-shirt that was too short and showing too much skin above my waistband. It was obvious that I wasn't sophisticated like his girlfriend and after the stunt she pulled, I should be glad. But it was Nolan…

Ten minutes later, knocking at the door startled me. I took a deep breath and kept it in for five seconds and released it softly, slowly. With my hand on the doorknob, I shook my head, feeling ridiculously nervous. I’d riled Nolan up and even though I was mad at him, I didn't want to fight with him. He was my closest and oldest friend after all.

I opened the door slowly, peeking through the tiny opening before I caught sight of his lip ring first and then his blazing hazel eyes. He looked furious. I stepped away, opening the door on my retreat. He didn't wait and walked inside, his eyes taking in the small apartment with sparse furnishings before he focused back on me.

"Where is the guy? Still in the bedroom?" he asked harshly, spitting his words out to my face.

I'd never seen him like this, treading thinly on the edge. He was so...so intimidating. He closed the door with a kick of his heel without even checking to see if it was the door he kicked. I blinked at the sound of the door, but didn't move. He wouldn't let me as his eyes bore into me.

"There's no one," I whispered carefully, my voice shaking now that regret replaced my anger.

"Don't lie to me!" he shouted, his face reddening. It was visible even under his two day old stubble. The corner of his eyes thinned and his lip ring disappeared inside his mouth briefly before it poked back into place and caught the light from the only lamp on the cheap wooden table.

I yelped but recovered fast, anger coming back full force. "There's no one here! It's my apartment! That's what I was doing today. Moving. In."

Our breathing was hard and fast in the otherwise quiet living room. Even the noise from the TV wasn’t covering our loud breathing. When he registered my words, his face began to lose its reddish color and the lines eased out.

"But...but in your texts..." he trailed of, his eyes now pleading with me to give him some explanation, but one thing was obvious; he hated to think about me with someone else. What did that mean? What did that fucking mean!

"I said nothing in my texts. You came up with your own conclusions and you were mad thinking about me being with someone else..."

"Stop," he said, his jaw tightening.

"Touching another man..."

"Stop it."

"Sleeping..."

He ran to me and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me once, not hard, but enough to make me stop. "Quit it," he whispered, his voice deep and dark. My spine tingled while a new hot wave crashed into my belly. Our eyes locked once again and I didn't move. I didn't want to lose the warmth of his palms or his smell—musk and a masculine body wash—and his closeness. "Don't say a word."

"But..."

He shut me up the best way possible. He kissed me, fiercely, his lip ring biting into my soft skin and his tongue tracing my lush lips, slowly, thoroughly until I opened them once I recovered from my shock. The first wave of pleasure hit me full on, making me moan without restraint.

When his tongue met mine in the most dizzying dance ever known, I gripped his shoulders, closing the small distance between us. My breasts, heavy with desire, brushed his firm chest in a tease, a whisper of a touch that made me squirm. But when he deepened the kiss some more and let his hands wander from my shoulders down my back to settle where the tips of his long fingers brushed my ass, I forgot everything that was happening and that I should be the better person and stop this madness.

Instead, I rubbed more firmly against his chest, letting the friction send more sparks through me. Now, it wasn't just desire. It was raw need, carnal and primitive and so very good that another moan escaped my mouth to mingle with his breath as he broke the kiss and backed me up against the door.

Before I could gather my bearings, he kissed me again and groaned when I ran my fingers through his wavy hair, tugging hard on the locks while my tongue dueled with his. With my lips and teeth, I caught his lip ring before I nipped on his lower lip, slightly fuller than his upper one.

He snaked a hand behind my neck to keep me from escaping his devastatingly hot kisses, as if any sane person would try to escape this. His other hand traced once my waistband, the tip of his finger scalding my skin with burning tingles calling for something more. Then, when his tongue brushed the roof of my mouth and I moaned again as one of my hands landed on his tight and perfect ass, his free hand went under my tee-shirt and over my ribcage to settle just under my breast. But I wanted it on my breast, I wanted him to touch me everywhere, to release the fire inside me. I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anyone. More than I thought of ever wanting someone. So much more.

He broke the kiss and slowly opened his eyes, now glazed over. I didn't know what I looked like, but he was enjoying looking at my mouth and eyes. He looked ready to tear my clothes off my body. His eyes were glazed and hot on me, so dark that they didn't even look hazel anymore. His lips were red and swollen, so tempting that it was hard not to devour him. He was sinfully beautiful even if beautiful wasn't the best way to describe a man who looked ready to pounce on you to fuck you senseless.

He looked down at the bulge under my tee-shirt where his hand was before he locked his eyes with mine again. And then, reality hit us both back. That reality that I pushed away when he put his hands on me. He pulled away fast and shook his head, closing his eyes not looking at me anymore. It made me feel cheap.

I bit on my lower lip that was starting to tremble as sobs were welling up from the same place in my belly that was burning hot seconds ago.

"I...I don't..."

"Spare me," I stop him with a cold tone of voice that surprised me. He crossed his arms over his heaving chest, hiding his shaking hands under them. "Just leave and go back to New York or go see your mother before she dies. But leave me alone instead of playing games with me. I will not let you play with me like this, I do have some respect for myself and it looks like I'm more mature than you are."

He took a deep breath and released it slowly, soundly, while he kept his eyes on me, shame written all over his face. "I didn't want to be disrespectful, but I was worried."

"Worried? You were worried so when you find me you just kiss the hell out of me? Is that how you react when you're worried? Are you even listening to what you are saying?"

"Stop that shit, Little B."

I laughed humorlessly and walked back to the couch before I sat down, all the while my legs were shaking pretty bad. "And now you're hiding behind a silly nickname you gave me when I was nine." I couldn't see him anymore, he was behind me, still breathing hard, and it was easier to keep my composure and ignore just a little longer how hurt I was with the way he handled things. But there was something I couldn't ignore, a question to be specific. Did he love his girlfriend if he kissed me that way?

BOOK: Six Years
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