I swallowed back my selfishness and slid out from his heavy arm. His features tightened for a moment, the mass of dark lashes outlining his closed eyes as they clenched, but soon, everything relaxed again, and I got to take in the softness of his sharp jaw and straight nose. Eric’s dark, thick hair was laying over his forehead, grazing down onto his eyebrows. His cheek was turned away from me, the smoothness of it begging me to run my finger along the chiseled curve. Eric was dangerously attractive; he made everything awaken when he pinned me with a stare. There was always a slight dip in my stomach when he’d catch my eye, some automatic pull between us, like we were tied at the waist by the same rope. He was bare chested as he slept, his expanding chest moving effortlessly with each flowing breath.
Depression started to set in as I pulled my bra and panties back on. The fabric of my shirt and pants felt heavy against my body—uncomfortable—like it knew that, just hours prior, I had Eric’s hands running along my skin.
There was too much bad shit that had gone on between Eric and me. It wasn’t like we were best friends and had drifted apart due to age, or like I’d moved away and we had lost touch. Instead, it was years and years of me parading his best friend in front of his face after I’d inevitably hurt him and threw him out of my life so fast he couldn’t even reach a hand out for help. Hearing him defend me to his friends made me feel warm all over, like the sun had dipped down and brushed over my shoulders, but it was wrong.
We had no future. I hurt him. My mom had a hand in ruining his parents’ marriage. His friends hated me. Eric deserved so much better. Even when he spat hateful things my way and snickered when someone wrote slut on my locker in permanent marker for the fifteenth time since Christmas break, he still deserved better.
I gave him one last look before tiptoeing to his door, grabbing my phone on the way. My mom had texted at some point, after I’d gotten back in bed and fallen asleep after hearing Eric with his friends, that my dad had left for the airport hours ago. Thank God.
I told myself it was better this way. My mom and I could go back to our fake lives, revolving around hushed truths, and Eric could go back to hating me, and everything would be
normal again.
There would be no more guilty thoughts, no more butterflies full of hope in my stomach, nothing. I could go back to feeling absolutely nothing, except that tiny bit of fear I’d continue to push away until it’d eventually fade.
One foot was in the hallway when I froze, my back snapping to attention.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Shit.
Slowly spinning around, pushing my hair over my shoulder, I bit down on my lip. I averted my eyes away from him, unable to say even a single word. Say something, Madeline.
My first reaction was to lash out, to be the meanest I could be so he would just let me go. But something inside of me began to mend the very second he protected me. It mended even further when he defended me to his friends.
“What’s this?” he asked, his voice all sleepy.
I watched in dread as he reached for the note I had left, ironically on the back of the stupid piece of notebook paper he’d held up through the window the other day.
A gulp worked itself down my throat as I gripped my phone, glancing away.
He chuckled, and I winced at the crumpling of the notebook paper and then flinched all together when it landed on the floor.
Silence passed between us, each of us waiting for the other to break the ice. I knew I had to be the one to do it, so I did what I did best; I shut him out. “What did you expect, Eric?” I asked, placing my shaky hands on my hips for stability. His gaze lingered there for a moment as he sat up in his bed, the blanket falling to his lap. “Did you expect us to walk into English Prep Monday, holding hands, acting like a power couple?” A breath-filled laugh left me. “I heard everything Christian and Ollie said a little while ago, and they were absolutely right. I’m not good for you. For anyone.” It hurt to say it, but it was the truth.
“So you heard the entire conversation between us then?” Eric’s jaw ticked back and forth with unshed anger. “Then you heard me defend you, right?”
My stomach began falling, dread pulling it all the way to the floor. “Yeah. That’s part of the issue.”
Eric pushed the blankets off his legs and stood up quickly, adjusting the waistband of his sweats around his slender hips. I hated how good he looked. It made me waver for a moment. “How is that part of the issue?”
I threw my hands up, looking past him at the window. “I’m not coming between you and your friends. You shouldn’t be arguing with them about the girl you just fucked. They hate me. Everyone at school hates me. Your mom should hate me. And let’s not forget that my mom ruined your parents' marriage! I could barely look your mom in the eye, let alone your dad! He knew I knew that they were fucking occasionally. He even waved to me afterward, like it was no big deal. Are we just gonna pretend like everything is all good with us? Because if there’s anything I know, you can’t just keep shoving the truth under the fucking rug. It’ll all come out eventually.”
Eric stared at me intently as I ranted. He stood in the same spot, right next to his bed, with the warm glow of the lamp outlining his body like he was a god. Seconds passed, maybe even hours, before he finally slanted his head and glared. “You don’t get to do that again.”
I fidgeted on my feet, backing up into the hallway so we weren’t even in the same room. “Do what?”
“You don’t get to shut me out again. I’m not letting you.”
Anger came rushing to the surface. Anger and fear. I felt scrambled inside, unable to pinpoint exactly what I was angry about and what I should have been fearing. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Eric. I’ve never given anyone the power to boss me around, and I won’t start now.”
A dark chuckle came from him, and goosebumps rushed to my skin. He was in my face fast with his hand wrapped around my back like a snake striking its opponent. His stormy gaze fell upon me like a dark cloud over the ocean. “You don’t want me to touch you? Fine.” I gulped, my breasts pushing upward, rubbing along his chest. I ignored the way my body sparked. “You don’t want me to kiss you? Also fine. I won’t kiss you unless you beg for it. You don’t want us to hold hands and act like some fucking power couple? Super.” His face crowded mine, his lips a breath away, making it hard for me to remember where I was. The floor thundered under my feet with the protectiveness of his tone. “But so help me God, if I see a red Porsche in your driveway, I’ll be over to your house so fast you won’t even have time to panic. And if I see that sleek, expensive Jaguar parked just behind your car, I’ll be in your closet with you, holding your hand as your father demands that your mother bows at his fucking feet. And if either of them—or anyone, for that matter—lays a hand on you without your consent”—Eric reached up and grabbed onto my face so hard I couldn’t look away even if I wanted—“I will rip their fucking arms from their body.”
My lip began to tremble. A firework worth of feelings clawed at my chest, begging to be let out as I willed for them to stay put. How? How could he still be so protective over me even when I was pushing him away again? I swallowed back the sadness in my throat and bit my lip so it would stop wobbling like the weak girl I’d become. Eric’s eyes drove into mine, his fingers digging into my skin. “You pushed me away once, Maddie, and I swore I’d never ever give you the power to do that again.” His hand suddenly vanished from my face, and his fingers let go of my shirt he’d had bundled from behind. He bent at the waist and picked up the crumpled piece of notebook paper and held it up. “So no, I won’t stop worrying about you. Thanks for the recommendation, though.”
Leave, Madeline. Fucking leave right now.
I stepped one foot backwards, and then another, neither one of us breaking the hold we had on each other. I was unable to grasp the fact that my plan didn’t work. That he still wasn’t giving up even after I’d reminded him of everything bad that came associated with me. What do I do now?