Page 76 of Apathy
“No,” he fired back and dropped me to the bed. Towering over me, he started removing his shoes and then climbed onto the bed, hovering over me. “I’m not going anywhere, and you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”
“The fuck I will.” I pushed at his shoulders. “If you don’t leave—”
“You’ll what?” he bit back. “You’ll call the cops? Or what, you’re gonna yell for your brother to save you.”
“No, you fucking asshole. I don’t need my brother to punch you in that pretty face.”
“You think I have a pretty face?” He smirked.
“That’s not the point!” I started getting up, but he pushed my hands above my head, holding them down.
“I fucked up!” he bellowed. “I fucked up badly because I was scared. When I saw the message from Lauren, I headed toward the hospital.”
“Don’t f—”
“I was! But I couldn’t come and see you, Skylar. I couldn’t because I tried telling myself that this thing between us means nothing, and I was wrong.” He breathed heavily. “I drank myself to oblivion because I tried to forget you. I tried to forget how you made me feel. I tried to erase you from here.” He pulled my hand and pressed it against his head. “But you’re not only in my head, you’re here as well.” He then pressed my hand against his chest. “You’re in my veins, in my mind, in my heart, and I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to feel this way, but I don’t wanna fight it anymore. I don’t want to lose you.”
Did he just… Did he just admit that he… “Ash—”
“No, I don’t wanna put a label on these feelings, because I don’t know what they are. I don’t know what to call them or what to call us, but I know I want to be with you in every way possible.” He dropped his forehead to mine, making me close my eyes. He let go of my hands and placed both of his against my cheeks, holding me steady. I wrapped my free hand around his head, entwining my fingers with the strands of his hair. “I. Want. You.”
And that was when the dam broke. When everything I tried suppressing, everything I didn’t want to think about, started coming out. My throat constricted as the first sob tore out of my chest.
“I’m terrified,” I cried out. “H-he… He broke into the house, and… and—”
“Shhh.” He pressed his lips against my forehead and moved to the side, hugging me. I pressed my face against his pectoral muscles, letting myself cry over everything that had happened. “It’s going to be okay, Sky.”
“How?” I cried out. “How is everything going to be okay?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, brushing the hair from my face. “But it has to be. I want to believe that we will be able to catch this guy, whoever he is.”
“I just… I’m so angry. And I’m scared, and sad, and it’s like I’m going to explode from all these things I’m feeling inside.”
“Then let it all out. Let them all out and tell me how you feel. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight, not tomorrow. I’ll be here for as long as you want me to be.”
And I somehow knew that he would be here with me no matter what. Maybe I knew because what he felt for me was very similar to what I felt for him.
Maybe it was because my soul finally recognized its equal.
Or perhaps it was because he made me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of feeling. Whatever it was, I trusted him almost as much as I trusted Dylan.
Skylar
When I was ten years old, I asked my parents to buy me a hamster for my birthday. I couldn’t recall why I asked for a hamster, but since my parents didn’t want me to have a cat or a dog at that time, I guess that in my young mind a hamster seemed like a reasonable solution.
I really wanted to have a pet.
Most of my friends had a dog, a cat, a parrot, and I wanted to have a pet I could call my own.
I still remembered the day, as if it just happened yesterday, when my dad brought two small boxes home with tiny holes punctured on the top. His lips were pulled into a wide smile, and as he crouched in front of me, he placed both of those boxes in my hands.
“Happy birthday, Lar,” he said.
I believe that that was one of the last good memories of my dad. I liked to believe that there were many more, but I read somewhere that our minds tend to lock down all those good times when something traumatic happens. Maybe because it was easier forgetting how we used to perceive a person versus who they really were.
But in that moment, when he handed me those two boxes, he was the best dad in the entire world. He didn’t have to tell me what was inside because I knew. I just fucking knew.
My heart pounded so hard that I had a feeling I was going to pass out. I all but ran toward the living room, leaving my dad behind in the foyer, anxious to see my new friends. I asked for one hamster, but he bought me two.
