Eyes Only for You

Eyes Only For You
By Cassie Williamson

Elbows jabbed my side and other feet crushed mine. Beer was flying through the air, dampening my hair and sweat soaked through my clothes. I was in heaven. I worked my way up to the front of the mosh pit, my feet never touched the ground as the sea of bodies helped me drift slowly to the guardrail in front of the stage. Once there, I gripped onto the rail and craned my neck up to face the band. I couldn't hear myself even though I was screaming along with them so loudly, that by the end of their set, I had a voice that was equivalent to a hot breeze through the desert. The bass matched the beat of my heart, and the music was no longer coming to me, but coming from me. I felt it with every inch of my being and although my ribs were being bruised by the mass of people behind me pushing me against the fence. As the last chord sang through the air, my heart and soul sang with it.
As the crowd dissipated I wiped the sweat off of my brow and walked towards the lakeside. My ears were ringing and my head was buzzing as limped away from the stage. I kicked a can out of my way as I looked for a place to sit down and rest. I could feel the cool breeze blowing of the nearby lake, and I walked in that direction. Along the shore were rocks the size of TV's and large maple trees growing wherever there were breaks. The larger of the trees provided a decent amount of shade.
I sat under a tree growing through the rocks and rolled down my thigh-highs. I pulled a napkin out of my leather jacket's pocket and dabbed at the blood trickling down my leg. I was accidentally shoved into the hard core area of the pit and was sent sprawling down to the cement. Of course, in accordance to the rules of "Mosh Pit Etiquette, I was quickly pulled up by a nearby mosher and tossed back up front. I looked down at my legs and started to re-lace my boots. I rummaged through my jacket until I came upon a flattened pack of cigarettes and a soggy book of matches. I held the stick between my lips and tried to strike the match on a nearby rock. After the sixth attempt, the match snapped in half and I ended up scraping my nail across the rock, breaking it. I swore and threw the book of matches into the lake, instantly regretting it because I had nothing else to make fire with. I sat on the rock, actually considering climbing down and trying to retrieve the book of matches, but knowing they'd be useless already.
"Need a light?" I heard, and swung around so fast I fell off of the rock I was sitting on. I looked up to see a guy I recognized from the pit earlier on. He was leaning against the tree I was previously leaning on and looked down at me. His long black hair was in front of his face, and when he moved it out of the way, the intensity of his blue eyes that were emphasized by the liner he had on took my breath away. I'd never seen eyes like those. His tight jeans were torn and wet and his once red Chuck Taylors were a sad shade of brown. A jean jacket was loosely draped around his shoulders and his black beater clung to his chest. I thought I saw the end trails of a tattoo near his shoulder, but I wasn't sure. "Well, do you?" he asked, and I snapped out of my stupefied gaze and nodded my head enthusiastically. I leaned forward and smiled with the cigarette in my mouth. He flicked his Zippo and held the flame to the tip. I heard the tobacco burn as I sucked in and blew out the side of my mouth.
"Thanks," I said and got up to return to my previous position on the rock.
"No problem," he replied and smiled a crooked little smile that made me melt a little inside. "Were you just in the pit? You look familiar, and I'm pretty sure we're not related."
"Yeah I was, got a wicked strawberry from getting tossed around. Hopefully I'll get a scar! That'd be sweet. Hey! Were you the one that helped me up after that jerk mowed me over?" I asked, instantly making the connection in my mind. He nodded. "Thanks, man. I was not in the mood for a concrete nap if you know what I mean." He nodded again and laughed. When he smiled those blue eyes stood out even more, making the sky above us pale in comparison.
"Are you tired out or would you care to join me in the pit during the next set?" he asked, and embarrassed the sky with his smiling eyes.
"Me? Tired? Hell no, let's go!" I said, and stood up. I smoothed out my plaid skirt and took off my jacket, placing it in a crevice formed by the rock and the tree. My tight tank top exposed my bruised shoulders and forearms. I looked at them and laughed. I guess the last show was a little rougher than I had first felt. I stepped up on top of the big rock and took the guy's hand when he extended it outward. He pulled, and I flew off the rock landing in front of him, gaining a close up of the ridges in his beater. My chin came up to his shoulders, and I was close enough to smell the beer that was flying through the air and had surely landed on him. I craned my head up and was greeted by the site of those amazing eyes. God, those eyes. I cleared my throat and stepped back, "Thanks," I whispered. He nodded and gave me a little push towards the growing crowd in front of the stage.
"My name's Quinn, by the way, what about you?'
"Anna," I replied and said his name aloud, "Quinn, that's a nice name. I like it."
"Honored to have your approval, Miss Anna!" he jokingly said and lowered himself down to curtsey. While his head was bowed, I pushed it and he almost fell over. I laughed along with him. We walked over to the crowd, occasionally accidentally bumping into each other on the way. As we approached the back of the crowd, I could see nothing but the backs of people and the occasional towering bright florescent Mohawk. Even Quinn was craning a bit to see, and he must have been 6' or taller. I sighed and said,
"Well this sucks,"
"Yeah. Hey, wait, I have an idea. Go along with me, okay?" Before I was given the chance to agree or decline, I heard him call out, "Anna, Anna where are your glasses? Excuse me sir," he said and pushed his way through the crowd, slowly but steadily leading the way towards the front, "Have you seen any glasses on the ground? Aw, shit." He said, and excused himself and I a space between two people right up on the rail.
"Wow. Way to go, you're somewhat clever!" I kidded and jumped up to sit on the rail. He stood in front of me and put his hands on either side of my body, gripping the rusted red rail. His finger nails were painted and chipped black, and I noticed that he had a black music note tattooed discretely on his wrist.
"So, Anna, what are you, like 17? Where are you from?" he asked and hopped up on the rail next to me. His hand landed so it slightly overlapped mine. I hesitated before answering, unsure of what his reaction would be.
"I'm 16 and kind of between places right now. It's a long story, what about yourself?" I asked, and caught the age of 18before I was cut short by the mad cheers of the crowd. We hopped down to see the band entering from stage left. I screamed and looked over at Quinn. It was mere seconds before I was swept away in his eyes and the music. The band rocked out with energy that I didn't know could come out of people. The crowd moved as one and the rail moved into my stomach. I tried hard to ignore the pain and focus on the music, but I couldn't. Quinn must have saw my face as I fought to overcome the pain surging through my abdomen, he pushed his way behind me and in front of the people who were sending me into the rail. Like he had stood earlier, he put his hands on both sides of me, and held tight. I no longer was being pushed into the rail and on top of that was being "protected" by an extremely attractive stranger that I was possibly thinking of getting to know better.
As the set ended, the crowd went mad again, and someone threw a beer from behind us. I looked up just in time to see the plastic cup tip over in the air and douse Quinn and I with Milwaukee's Best. I shook my head and droplets of the bronze goodness flew out from me. I turned around to see Quinn flip his hair out of his face and send the rest of the beer flying. I turned to face him and realized happily that he was still standing close to me. I thanked him for protecting me and returned the smile he gave me. My eyes were drawn to his, and I felt the urge to go swimming.
We walked back towards the lakefront and I took in the cool breeze coming from it. It was July and had been probably about 90 degrees outside all day. In the pit, I'd say probably 100 plus, and was just starting to cool off. My hair was drying and so were my clothes. I sat back down on the rock I had previously occupied, and reached under to grab my jacket. I sat up, and laid it down under me as a cushion. I fell back against the tree and rolled up the bottom of my shirt. Right above my belly was a dark purple line of bruise. I poked it and yelled out,
"FUCK! That hurt!" Quinn looked up from whatever it was that he was doing and said,
"Well keep poking at it; I'm sure it'll hurt less after that," I stuck my tongue out at him and rolled my shirt back down, "Are you alright? That doesn't really look too good," he said and walked over to me. He grabbed my shirt and rolled it back up to look at it for himself. He cringed and told me, "That's painful. I'm going to go get you some ice for that, I'll be right back." Before I could object, he hopped over the rocks and walked away towards a concession stand. I looked out over the lake and admired the sun that was beginning to lower itself out of the sky. The oranges and yellows blended together to create a gorgeous palate that made me wish I could paint. I stretched my legs out and shut my eyes, soaking up the last rays of sun before the night set in. I must have dozed off for a few moments because when I opened my eyes, Quinn was sitting next to me with a bag of ice that was dripping a little from the corner.
"Jeez, I'm sorry. How long have you been here?" I asked, and stifled a yawn.
"Just a few minutes, don't worry. You're cute when you're sleeping," he answered, and smiled at me, "I brought some ice for you stomach, it's a little melted but it should still help," he said, and offered it to me. I took it and said,
"Thanks. You know you didn't have to '"I sucked in sharply when the ice hit my bruise. The combination of cold meets hot meets pain was not a good one for me. I closed my eyes again and leaned my head back against the tree and felt the ice work wonders on my monster bruise. I heard a noise that sounded like rocks clinking against each other. I opened my eyes and saw Quinn bent over rummaging through a pile of gravel and occasionally picking a stone and holding it in his other hand. I continued to watch him until he had an apparently satisfying amount of stones and stood up. He looked over at me and noticed that I was watching him. He said nothing but walked over the rocks until he was at the last row of them. He picked out a stone from his other hand and gripped it between his index finger and thumb. He winked at me and swung his arm out, releasing the stone. It went flying through the air before hitting the water and skipping over it one, two, three, four, five times before plunking under the surface. I clapped and whistled as he took a bow and threw a rock at me. I caught it and gave him a questioning look.
"You try it," he said, and I laughed in response.
"I don't know how!" I said and stood next to him. He looked at me like I had just said that Fall Out Boy was hardcore. "What?" I asked him, "Is that bad?"
"Are you serious? I can't believe it. Here it's easy," he said, and showed me how to grip the rock between my fingers and swing my arm out so it would skip. When he did it, the rock skipped about six times. "Your turn," he said and stood back to examine my skills. I grabbed the rock and swung my arm out. It shot downward and splashed pathetically in the water. Quinn laughed and said, "Alright, you obviously need a little more help, luck for you, I'm pretty much the master of rock skipping." He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, his hand gently wrapped around my wrist and made it make some sort of sideways motion, "Like that," he said. He let go and I waited a second for the butterflies in my stomach to stop. I did what he showed me and this time the rock skipped once across the water. I flung my arms up into the air and yelled,
"HA! I DID IT!" I spun around and hugged him. His arms pressed into the small of my back and the butterflies that were previously sleeping in the bottom of my stomach promptly woke up and begin to seizure. He pulled back enough to look at me, but not far enough for his hands to leave me. His eyes were still the most amazing things I'd ever seen. Did he wear contacts? I hoped not.
"What are you doing tonight?" he asked.
"I¦Umm¦" I faltered. Clearing my throat, I went on, trying not to sound like an idiot, "Nothing. I'm not doing anything." I said and tried to will the blush that I felt heating my face to be gone. He smiled and asked me,
"Would you like to do something with me? I'm free as well."
"Yeah, I'd love to!" I said, and smiled back.
"Great, we can leave after the fireworks, if you want," I nodded and remembered that the fireworks were tonight and that I had been looking forward to them. What was it with this boy? He was amazing, that's for sure, but would he even be interested when I told him the truth about my living situation? I'd just have to deal with that later.
The sun was setting over the lake and the air was buzzing with excitement. People were settling down at picnic tables and I noticed a few fireflies fluttering about in front of us, down by the shore. A warning flare went up into the air and let out a big boom to signal that there was a half hour left until the show would begin. I climbed back up and sat under the tree. I looked up to where the flare was burning out, and decided that here would be a fine spot. I brought my knees to my chest and shivered, it was surprisingly chilly next to the lake at night. Quinn sat next to me and took off his jacket to drape it around my shoulders. I pulled it tight to me and tried to stay warm. I felt Quinn's arm around me, so I scooted closer to him and let my head fall into the hollow of his shoulder. I could feel his heart beat and was comforted when I felt mine fall into the same rhythm.
The fireworks started with a bang that made me practically jump off the rock. Quinn laughed at me and pulled me closer. The sky was an explosion of colors and the sound track was that of hundreds of people chorusing "ooo" and "aaah" after each one. Sitting there with Quinn holding me made me forget everything wrong in my life. I didn't worry about the fact that after we were done hanging out tonight, I had nowhere to go and I didn't worry about whether or not he'd want to see me after he found out. All I could focus on was our heartbeats and the thrill of watching the sky explode with colors that washed away your worries.
When the grand finale ended, Quinn stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a whistle so loud I thought my ear drums were going to burst. I clapped along with the rest of the spectators. He stood up and offered me his hand, which I took, and he pulled me up. I picked my jacket up and gave his back. I also grabbed my backpack full of clothes that I had stored under a different rock and threw it over my shoulder.
"Ready to go?" he asked me, and I nodded in response. We left the shore and walked down past all the stages and out to the main front gate. Ignoring the suspicious looks from passing cops, we wandered through the parking lot, looking for Quinn's car. Finally, after about twenty minutes of searching, he yelled out and ran to a black Honda. He fished through his pockets until he found the keys to unlock it. I got in and threw my back pack into the back seat. He shifted into drive and set off into the night.
"Where to, m'lady?" Quinn said in a fake British accent.
"It's up to you, I've got no preference," I answered, relieved when he nodded and turned right at the next stop lights. We drove in silence for a little bit before I asked, "Where are we going?" He shrugged his shoulders with a smile that told me he knew exactly where we were going but had no intention of letting me know just where that was. After several more minutes, he pulled into a driveway in front of an apartment complex.
"We're here!" he announced and shifted the car into park. I got out and walked around to meet him. He put his arm around me and pointed up to the top of the apartment and explained, "See that one way up in the left hand corner? That's where I live, and that's where we're going." I gave him a questioning look and he explained himself, "I have no money, but trust me, we'll have a good time." he said, and walked up to the door.
We took the elevator up to his room, on floor nine at the end of the hallway. He unlocked the door and opened it, flicking the lights on as he walked inside. The apartment was small, but neat. There was an open box of cereal on the counter, and an empty bowl in the sink. There was a couch that folded out (which was later explained to me) and a T.V. sitting on a crate. There was a hallway extending to the right, where I assumed the bathroom and his room were located. He grabbed a remote that was sitting next to the cereal box and pressed a button that made music play from every angle of the room.
"Surround sound," he said, and pointed with the remote over to an expensive looking stereo I had failed to notice. "That's my baby, music first, and then all those other luxuries like food and stuff come later." he said and I agreed.
"Hey, can I use the bathroom quick?" I asked.
"Sure it's right down there. It's the room without the bed," he said and I walked that way. I entered the bathroom and turned on the light, prepared for the worst. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that it was clean and white. I stood in front of the mirror and laughed when I saw how sunburned I was. I was going to be paying for that in the morning and that was for sure. My hair was a tangled red mess that fell just below my shoulders. I rubbed off some of the eyeliner that had become smeared under my eyes. I looked like a mess. I opened the door and yelled out,
"Is it ok if I take a shower? I smell like beer!"
"Yeah sure, just yell if you need help," he said and laughed.
I pulled off my boots and thigh-highs as well as my skirt and tank top. I piled them neatly on the toilet seat and stepped into the shower. The hot water washed over me and I worked conditioner through my hair, trying to untangle the knots. I grabbed his body wash and used it, careful to avoid the increasingly scary bruise on my abdomen. I shut off the shower and stepped out, opening a cabinet and pulling out a tower. I wrapped it around me and popped open his medicine cabinet looking for a brush. I rummaged through the bottles of aspirin and boxes of condoms until I found one. I used another towel to dry my hair off, and brushed it until I was satisfied. When I was done, my hair was once again curly and shiny like I had it this morning. I grabbed his eyeliner and applied some, not thinking he'd mind if I borrowed it. I rummaged around a bit more looking for contacts and found none. I smiled.
I looked around the bathroom for my backpack before realizing I had left it in his car. I smacked myself on the head and sat down on the side of the tub. I looked at the grungy clothes on the toilet seat and refused to put those back on. I grabbed a box of condoms and wrapped the towel tight around me, and cautiously opened the door. A cloud of steam followed me when I walked down the hallway into the living room. I timidly peeked around the corner and saw Quinn playing air guitar along with the song coming from the walls. It was cute, so I watched him for a little bit longer. As the song ended, he leaned back in the couch and folded one leg under himself and turned it down a bit. He had changed; he was now wearing a different pair of tight jeans, probably designed for teenage girls and a tight black shirt sporting the logo of a local underground band. I whispered, still peeking from around the corner,
"Quinn, hey Quinn," I said, and getting no reaction I spoke up and threw the box of condoms at him, "Quinn!" He heard me and felt the wrath of the condoms, and spun around to see me in a towel, obviously embarrassed.
"Don't you think it's a little soon for that -- Anna, holy crap, you don't have clothes on!" he said, and then instantly looked as if he regretted it. His pale cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and he looked down at his hands, "I mean¦hi," he said. I laughed and replied,
"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I don't have any," I said, "Could I borrow some of yours for the night?" Seeming to have regained his composure he said,
"Why sure you can. Although that towel really brings out your eyes, ya know," he joked, and winked one of his amazingly blue eyes at me. I melted a little inside.
"Oh shut up. Where's your room?" I asked, and he got up and walked over to me.
"This way, but don't go in yet," he said, and jogged over to the second door on the right and opened it. He stood in the doorway and said, "Stay there, it's a mess." I nodded seriously and as soon as she stepped in, I followed him. His bed was a mattress on the ground in the corner of the room. Clothes littered the floor and his dresser was covered in C.D.'s and the like and a bass guitar sat in the corner. He was rummaging through his drawers and picking up assorted items of clothes and throwing them over his shoulder. I picked up one of the black beaters he threw and a pair of baggy jeans. I found a belt and a clean pair of boxers, and walked back into the bathroom. I pulled on the boxers and pants, threading the belt through the loops and buckling it through the last hole. I put the beater on and tucked it in so it wouldn't fall down to my knees. I walked out and there stood Quinn with a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt in hand.
"I got it under control," I said and smiled at his dumbfounded face. I walked past him, with his jaw still hanging agape, amazed at the fact that I was able to handle myself. I turned the corner and sat down on his couch. It was actually pretty comfortable. I made sure to sit spread eagle and hang one hand in my crotch.
"Haha, real funny Anna. I don't sit like that," he said as he turned the corner. Just as he said that I started to rock out on my air guitar, making his face turn a bright pink.
"What? You don't like my solo?" I asked him, and stuck my tongue out. He walked over to me and grabbed the air guitar out of my hands and pretended to break it over his knee. This made me laugh for a solid minute before falling over on his couch, wiping tears out of my eyes. When my laughter subsided, he was sitting next to me looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes.
"Well, now that you're temporarily sane for the moment, there are few things we can do to amuse ourselves. One: watch a movie or something, two: go to sleep, three: oh jeez, never mind, there's only two, and it's all up to you." he triumphantly finished. I tapped my finger on my chin, pretending to seriously debate the choices I had been given. I decided on the movie option and asked which ones I got to pick from.
"What do you all have?" I asked, and he listed off a few.
"Dawn of the Dead, Saw, Saw II, Saving Private Ryan, The Notebook," he paused when he saw me looking at him with a smirk on my face, "What?" he said, innocently and I laughed,
"The Notebook? A chick flick? You're a softie, I like it, and just for that, that's what I want to watch." I said, and watched him get up and put the movie in. He pressed play and disappeared behind the corner. I craned my neck around to see what he was up to, and then I couldn't see at all. There must have been a light switch around the corner that I hadn't noticed, because I was plunged into darkness with only the glow of the T.V. as light. I brought my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them. I screamed when from behind me a blanket fell over my head. I heard Quinn laugh, and felt the couch move as he jumped over and sat down next to me. I pulled the blanket over me and yanked it away from him.
"Hey now, let's share," he said, and pulled part of it over to him. He lifted his arm up, and I leaned in against him. I smelled Axe cologne when I inhaled, and that, being my favorite scent, made my heart do back flips. My head once again found the hollow in his shoulder and I let myself relax. During the movie, I started to think to myself. I wondered how this had happened. One minute he was offering me a lighter and seemingly to be the next minute I was laying next to him watching a movie in his apartment. The butterflies were fluttering around in my stomach as they had been all day.
We sat there on his couch in silence until tears were streaming down my face from the bittersweet ending of the film. It had to have been the tenth time I'd seen the movie, but it got me every time. I looked over at Quinn as the credits started to play, and noticed that his eyes were glossy as well. He had managed to stop them from falling, but I saw the tears. My heart melted. He was so gorgeous in every sense of the word, and seeing him as a guy with actual emotions was just one more thing that was pushing me head over heels. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and sniffed. He turned to look at me and our eyes met. I could feel myself blushing again, and I silently thanked him for turning the lights off. I smiled and when he smiled back, I turned away, sure that my face was red enough to match my hair. Staring at the newly fascinating stitching of the couch, I felt his fingers gently touch my chin, and pull my head to face him again.
I opened my mouth to say something, but when nothing came out, I shut it again. His fingers were still on my chin, and I felt them pulling me towards him. He shut his eyes and I closed mine. It was almost a second before our lips met in a release of tension that had been building since that afternoon. The kiss was soft and tentative but what I felt inside of myself was anything but that. It was if I was feeling all the good things that had ever happened in my life through Quinn's lips. Now, the cardinal rule of kissing is never open your eyes, after all, it's not polite to stare, but I couldn't help it. When his startlingly beautiful eyes met mine that was all I could see. Our surroundings dropped away as I lost myself in the passion of his kiss and the depth of his eyes.
* * *
I opened my eyes and was blinded by the early morning sun shining through the window in Quinn's bedroom. I rubbed my eyes until the multicolored circles that were dancing in front of my vision were gone. I turned my head to the left and saw Quinn sleeping with his arm around me. His black hair was a mess and his lips were slightly parted. I watched his bare chest lower and rise as he slept. That sight was enough for me to decide to stay lying down just for a little while longer; I couldn't bear to wake him. That was the morning when I fully came to comprehend the phrase "beauty sleep." I closed my eyes again and managed to fall asleep with the comfort of his arm around me.
The next time I awoke, I was covered with a blanket. I turned to see if Quinn had done this, and saw his side of the bed empty. He must have gotten up and covered me to make sure I was warm. I hugged the blanket tight to myself and sighed. I sat up and picked up my ' his ' shirt and walked across his room, being careful not to step on anything. I crossed the hallway into the bathroom. I grabbed the comb I had left on the sink last night and once again began to work through the mess of hair on my head. I finished and applied some eyeliner. I opened the drawer on the right hand side, and rummaged through it until I found two rubber bands. I tied each of them around different sections of my hair and pulled tight. I looked in the mirror and was satisfied with my pig tails. I pulled his shirt over my head and was thankful that it covered the red mark that was accidentally left on my collarbone.
I went out into the kitchen and smiled when I saw two McDonald's bags sitting on plates on the table. In the middle of the table sat two tapered candles, each lit. Quinn was behind the counter, pouring out two cups of orange juice into two glasses and pulling the straws out of the tops and plunking them into the glasses. He looked up to see me leaning against the wall, watching him. He smiled and walked the glasses over to the table, then walked over to me. He bent over and kissed me on the cheek.
"G'morning sunshine!" he said and grabbed me by the elbow. He led me towards the table and pulled out the fold up chair. I sat down and was touched by the heartfelt attempt of making me feel at home.
"You're too sweet, Quinn. You didn't have to make me breakfast," I said and watched him sit down at the opposite side of the table.
"It's nothing, don't worry. Oh, I'm vegetarian and I didn't know if you were too, so I just got us, um, made us two salads," he said. I was vegetarian and was happy that he obviously shared the same views with me.
After breakfast we were playing video games when he pressed pause. I groaned and punched him softly in the shoulder.
"HEY! I was winning!" I said and he laughed at me.
"Yeah¦winning¦sure," he said and went on, "Shouldn't you call your parents or something, will they be wondering where you are? I don't want any angry dads coming after me with guns, you know," he said. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and opened it,
"You're right, I'll call them right now," I said, and dialed the number of my voicemail.
"Please enter your password," the voice told me, I said,
"Hey mom, it's Anna. Yeah I'm at Tricia's house,"
"You have no new voice mails. Please enter your password," the voice mail lady told me, and I replied by saying,
"I'll be home tomorrow. If not I'll call. Yes, I'll call. All right? I love you too, bye." I said and hung up the phone. I smiled at Quinn and said, "Game on Tricia!" I pressed the start button and we started to play again.
A while later, after I had exhausted all of my cunning strategies and still had managed to get my ass kicked more than once, I set the remote down and lay back on the couch, resting my head on the arm rest.
"Give up?" he asked, jokingly and fell on top of me. I squirmed and wiggled my way out from under him, and succeeded in falling straight to the ground. I sat up and saw Quinn propped up by his elbow laughing at me. I rubbed the back of my head and stood up. I sat on him and crossed my arms. He pretended to struggle to push me off.
"Ha, what now? I win," I said and swung one knee over so I was straddling him. I lay on top of him with my head on his chest. Just like the day before when we were watching the fireworks, I felt his heartbeat match mine. Lying there with him made me feel like I never would need anything else. It'd only been a day, but I felt like I'd known him for a lifetime. Is that what love felt like? Could I be falling in love with this boy? No, never, not me.
"So, Anna, I feel like I know you, but nothing about you," Quinn said, reading my mind. "Where do you go to school?" he asked.
"I go to 'Tosa East. It's a hell hole, but I've only got one more year before I can get the hell out and do something with my life," I said. "What about you? Are you still in school?"
He said a little quietly, "I actually stopped going when I was about your age, 16 or 17ish. I got expelled and just never bothered to go anywhere else."
"Expelled? What for?" I asked, and saw Quinn's smile falter slightly. "If you want to tell me, that is,"
"Well, I just don't want you to¦to not like me," he said, and I saw his pale cheeks turn that cute shade of pink.
"Why on earth would I not like you? Quinn, you're amazing. I've only known you for a day or so, but when I'm with you¦I just feel like¦" I stopped, searching for the right word. But when can you ever find the words you're looking for to describe that feeling that nothing else in the world can match?
"I know what you mean," he said softly, and traced the outside curves of my lips. I never knew I had lips before he touched them. I knew they were there, but I never felt them. I held the tip of his finger and gently kissed it. A personal thank you for the way he made me feel, simply by existing there with me. We held each other in silence for a long time before he spoke up again, "It was coke. It wasn't mine, but they didn't believe me," he said, and I looked at him with understanding through those exquisite sapphires that were his eyes. I knew it wasn't his. Not that it would have mattered, but I knew he wasn't lying to me. I laid my head back down on his chest when his apartment door slammed open and a tall, dark haired person burst through the door.
"Are you ready to go!? Let's go ' Who's that?" he said, and pointed at me. I sat up so Quinn could respond.
"That's Anna. Wait, how did you get in? You scared the hell out of me, Brian!"
"If you kick your door, you don't even need the key!" Brian said, with a dorky grin on his face. He had brown wavy hair that fell just below his ears. He had a shirt that read 'Also Available in Sober' and a pair of ripped up jeans met his black Etnies, "Dude, she's hot!" Brian whispered loudly, and again pointed at me.
"Thanks, I like your shirt," I said, and smiled when he puffed up his chest and said,
"Yeah, it's an XL, I've been working out,"
"Hey Anna, me and Brian were going to go check out Social Distortion tonight at The Rave, he's got free tickets, do you want to tag along?" Quinn asked, and I jumped up and squealed in delight. "That means 'yes' in Anna-talk," Quinn explained to Brian. Brian nodded and started to raid Quinn's cupboards looking for something to eat. I smiled at Quinn and said,
"Are you serious? I can come?" he nodded and said,
"Only if you want to, I mean, do you?"
"I only worship them, so I guess I'd sort of like it," I said sarcastically before my face lit up in another humungous smile. I leaped over and hugged him, pushing him back down on the couch.
"Hey, hey, hey, let's keep it PG over there, guys," Brian yelled from the kitchen, and Quinn and I laughed in between light kissing.
Later, when Brian had satisfied his appetite, we all ran down the stairs. I had my mosh pit skirt on over a pair of Quinn's pants and I was wearing a white beater of his. I slid down the rail, my skirt flew up and my pig tails trailed behind me as the boys struggled to keep up with me. On the last flight of stairs, I jumped up on the rail and slid my way down to the bottom. I flew off and landed with a thud at the bottom. I threw my arms up into the air and stuck my tongue out at the guys as the bounded down the last steps, breathing hard. Quinn jogged over to me, picked me up and carried me out the door.
"Meet you there?" Brian yelled from his car and Quinn shouted back,
"Yeah, see ya in 20 or so," and he put me down and opened the passenger side door like it was some sort of chariot. I curtseyed and sat down. I looked at my bag on the floor, picked it up and started rooting through it. I pulled out a shirt and waved it like a flag when Quinn sat down behind the wheel.
"I have my Social D shirt with me! How freaking awesome is that? I said, and pulled off the beater, just as Brian drove by. He was distracted by me stripping in Quinn's car, so he hit a bush going about five miles per hour. Quinn laid his head against the steering wheel and laughed. I gave my shoulders a good shake for Brian and watched him get flustered as he tried to reverse out of the bush. I pulled on my shirt and settled back down into the seat. Quinn turned on the stereo and rattled the windows with the volume; we peeled off into the street behind Brian's car.
I watched the buildings pass me by as Quinn tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the music flowing through the stereo. I noticed that his slender fingers were tipped by a fresh coat of black paint. The dark gloss matched the obsidian silk that donned the top of his head. It was the simple things I admired most about him. I leaned my head against the window and felt my face drain of color when we drove past the apartments where my dad lived. I remembered that place. The grey carpet with a cot in the corner that I was forced to call my bed. The red stain on the wall from when my dad threw a bottle of wine at me and told me to get the fuck out of his house. It was all too clear in my memory.
I never knew my mother. My dad raised me, and he never said anything about her. I asked once. He didn't say anything, but slammed the door in my face. My dad was big into drugs and booze. I'd come home from school, or wherever I had been, usually to find him passed out on the couch. I remembered that on more than on occasion I walked in to see him with a tourniquet around the top of his arm and a needle in his vein. I never said anything, but walked with my head down past him. It was nothing unusual, as much as I hated it.
The last day I spent at home was two months ago. I walked in the door and instead of seeing my dad passed out on the couch, he was sitting at the table with a bottle of red wine in his hand. Apparently he had gotten a phone call from my Assistant Principal telling him that I wasn't in school that day. I tried to apologize, to feed him some excuse, but it was to no avail. He cut me off by throwing the bottle of wine in my direction. I moved out of the way as it crashed against the wall. He screamed about how I was a disappointment and wasn't welcome in his home anymore. I ran out the door and down to the park. I had gone back only once to get clothes and my backpack. Since then, I'd pretty much been living on the street. Occasionally I'd call up a friend and crash there, but more often than not, I was sleeping on a park bench or inside playground equipment when it was raining. When I looked back at Quinn, the brief idea of possibly telling him everything, just letting it all go was shot down when he smiled that gorgeous smile. I smiled back and counted my blessings.
Traffic began to get heavier as we approached The Rave. Quinn pulled up next to Brian who had managed to get two spots relatively close to the entrance of the building. The car shuddered to off and I stretched out my legs, listening to my knees pop. I opened the door and stepped out on to the gravel parking lot. I looked over to see Quinn stretching his arms above his head. I once again noticed the music notes tattooed on his wrist, and admired the simple elegance that those tiny black notes created as they graced his pale wrist. I walked over to Brian's car and signaled for him to roll down his window.
"Like the show? I asked, and laughed when he nodded, wide-eyed.
"Watch it, buddy. She's with me, Quinn said. Whether or not it was a joke didn't matter to me, my tummy-butterflies awakened and began to perform gymnastics. I was with him. I was with the most gorgeous creature I had ever laid eyes on. But more importantly, I was with him.
Quinn wrapped his arm around my waist as we walked towards the entrance. Brian flashed his tickets and we were let in. The ceiling above us opened up to resemble some sort of punk rock cathedral, and my boots clunked on the tile floor below me. I resisted the urge to yell out and hear the echo of my voice within the rocker's coliseum. The show wasn't going to start until 7 and it was only 6:30, so we decided to work our way up to the front, or at least as close as we could get. Brian watched us pull our glasses stunt the way a child would as his father showed him how to reel a fish in out of the lake. Once we were up at the fence, Brian declared his thirst and told Quinn to go get us each a beer. He showed me his fake I.D. when he saw the look on my face, and I nodded in understanding. He rolled his eyes and set off through the crowd. Brian must have seen the star struck gaze on my face, because he shoved me shoulder and said,
"He's a great guy; you're one lucky girl, he said.
I smiled and said, "Yeah, I think I'm really starting to fall for him. I wonder what things are going to be like when I have to start school again in fall, I pondered.
Brian nodded and said, "Yeah, long distance relationships are hard. I looked up at him,
"It's only like ten minutes from my school to his house, I think we can manage, I said and laughed. Brian's face showed signs of confusion, and then a sad understanding,
"He didn't tell you yet, did he? he asked.
"No, tell me what? What do you mean? I asked, and my heart started to race with worry, getting no response from Brian, I repeated myself, "Tell me what?! Brian looked upset at himself for even bringing the subject up. All I was concerned with was Quinn and us and the future.
He sighed and said, "Well, money's been tight for him and one of his cousins offered him a place to stay for a year or so, he said, and I sighed with relief.
"That's it? What, so it'll be like a half hour instead or something like that? I said, feeling the worry lift from my shoulders. Brian put his hand on my shoulder and shook his head,
"Sweetie, his cousin lives in New York. Quinn's leaving this weekend, he said, and shuffled his feet awkwardly. I pressed the rewind button in my mind back to his apartment, back to his room. What I never bothered to take note of was sticking out right in front of me now -- two suitcases in the corner of his room, two full suitcases. Like the night before, I felt all my surroundings drop away from me, not in ecstasy, but in excruciating loneliness. Instead of me being able to focus on the soft touch of his lips and the depths of his cerulean eyes, I was utterly alone. I could only focus on the fact that in less than a few days, those eyes and those lips would be gone.
"Hey guys, I'm back. The only beer they had was light, sorry, he said, but stopped when he saw the look on my face, "Anna, what's wrong? he said and handed the beers to Brian, who promptly took a large gulp.
He came to put his arm around me, but I crossed mine around my chest and stared at the ground as I walked right past him and out the door. "Dude?! I heard him say to Brian, and follow after me. I ran through the crowd, but he was stuck behind. I went to his car and pulled the handle on the passenger side. The door flew open and I grabbed my backpack, throwing it over my shoulder. My boots pounded on the pavement, and my breath came in gasps. I ran until I couldn't think, until I couldn't feel anything. I ran down the sidewalk and around the corner, never looking back.
I didn't stop running until my side was splitting and I couldn't breathe. By the time that had happened, I was near the park I had been calling home for the past two months. I slowed down to a walk, breathing heavily. I walked through the park, watching mothers play with their children and dads watch on with wonder. I walked through a bed of flowers and saw them bend and break under the heavy crush of my boots. I got to the point in the park where young couples usually came to experience their first make out. That's where the bench, my bed, resided.
I threw my bag down and collapsed on the bench, my body wracked by sobs. I lay my head down on my arms and let it all go. I tried to stop the tears, to will them away, but all I could see were his eyes when I closed mine. Those fucking eyes. I cried until I couldn't anymore. I didn't cry when my dad kicked me out, and I didn't cry when my mother died. But that night, I cried. I cried until I thought I was going to throw up. Everything I'd ever had was taken away from me, but I told myself that this time, this boy, that wasn't going to happen, but it did. He was leaving and that was that. The harsh reality of that statement hit me hard, hard enough to send more tears down my face when I thought they had run dry. I rubbed at my eyes until they were red and swollen to the touch. I pulled out my coat from my backpack and covered my torso with it. I was shaking, but not from cold.
The next day, I woke up to the sun shining down on me, I opened my eyes and felt that something was missing, but I couldn't pinpoint it. All of a sudden, the memory of last night flooded back to me in one terrible wave of sadness. I felt like crying, but couldn't. There was no possible way that I could express the emotions I was feeling inside. I wanted to scream and yell and cry until I collapsed, but I knew even that wouldn't be sufficient. That day I walked down to McDonald's and ordered a salad for lunch with the change I had found in my pockets. I ate about half of it before I threw up in the bushes next to my bench. I couldn't eat for the next few days, so I stayed in the park. Every once in a while, I'd walk around town looking for something to do, but I had no desire to do anything but curl up and die. Occasionally I thought I saw Quinn's car drive by, and every time my heart surged with a combination of joy and sorrow. I half wanted him to stop and hold me until we both turned grey, but the other half wanted him to just leave and get it over with
I stared up at the sun and let it warm my face, wishing that it would wash away all the hurt I felt. On the third day, I walked aimlessly down the streets, dragging my feet and looking at the ground. I stopped at the front gate of the place where Quinn and I had first met. I hopped over the fence and walked past the stages where I had spent some of the best moments of my short life. I kept walking until I got to the rocks where I had sat trying to light a cigarette. Tears started to prick at the back of my eyes when I thought of the fireworks and the warmth that radiated between us on that night. I could almost feel his arm around me, hear his voice and see his eyes as I walked down the rocks.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Quinn, standing at the edge of the lake, skipping stones. I watched him as he tried to send the stones across the water, but only succeeded in sending them all straight to the bottom. After about the fourth rock that sank miserably, he threw the rest of them down and fell back onto a rock, burying his face in his hands. I saw him lift his head and pull out two pieces of paper from his pockets. He looked at them, sighed as he brought his knees to his chest and shivered at the cold breeze coming off the lake.
I was overcome with emotion. Surprise shocked me, and love overwhelmed me. I was so happy to see him, but so confused as to why he was here. I walked down over the rocks, took off my jacket and put it over his shoulders. He turned to look back and his astonishing eyes filled up with tears as he met mine. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it when he started to cry again. I looked at what he was holding in his hand, it was two plane tickets.
"My cousin¦he sent me another one¦," he said, between sobs. "H-h-he said that you could c-c-come¦I'm s-s-s-so sorry, Anna," he said, and when I saw those eyes filled with tears, all the hurt I had felt in the past three days disappeared. I took his hands, with tears in my eyes and pulled him up. We embraced, and I felt his lips once again meet mine. I remembered the fireworks from the week before and felt that they were nothing compared to the electricity between us. Our tears mixed together and our eyes met again. The world dropped away and all I could feel was Quinn and all I could see were those eyes.
His face separated from mine, and we stood staring into each other's eyes for the longest time. I didn't know what to do. I was there with a boy that I was absolutely enthralled with, and he wanted me to go to New York with him. I wanted to go, hell, I needed to go, to get away from that cold, hard, park bench and let loose. I wanted to leave everything behind and be with Quinn and have things be okay. But I knew it wouldn't be that easy.
He took my hand and we walked carefully over the rocks and onto the pavement. My steps matched his as we approached the fence at the far end of the lot. He climbed over and perched himself at the top of the fence, offering me his hand. I took it and crawled my way up to him. When we were both sitting on the top, he grabbed my hand and we both jumped. Landing on the pavement sent a shock up my legs, and not a pleasant one.
He led me to his car and opened the door for me. I sat down on the cool leather and leaned my head against the window. I realized that I couldn't just leave. Not without tying up some loose ends. I knew what I had to do. I had to tell Quinn that I was¦homeless. The word stung in my mind, and I fought to find a better word, but couldn't. I closed my eyes and tried to recall the feeling I felt back on the rocks. I couldn't. Quinn's door opened and closed as he got in. I could hear him put the keys in the ignition, but heard him pause. I opened up my eyes and looked over at him, flashing a weak smile. His eyes showed a hint of concern, but he didn't say anything until we had pulled out of the parking lot and were driving down the street.
"Anna?" he asked tentatively. I lifted my head off of the window and turned to face him,
"Hmm?" I replied, and once again tried to smile.
"Are you okay? You seem a little¦distant. You do want to go to New York, right?" he asked, and then quickly added, "But it's okay if you don't want to. I mean, we've only known each other for a few days, am I rushing things?" he rambled, until I stopped him by saying,
"Quinn!" he stopped talking and I continued, "I do want to go to New York, more than you know. It's just that¦I have some stuff to do before we go," I said, and he nodded in understanding.
"Oh man, I completely forgot. You're only 16! What are your parents going to say?" he asked, and I sat up stiff in my seat. I moved my lips, but couldn't produce any sound better than a quiet whining sound.
"Uh¦" I groaned.
"I'll drop you off at home and we can talk to your parents together," he said, and smiled at me. I wanted to tell him everything right then. I probably should have, but I kept my mouth shut. "Where do you live?" he asked.
"Just go to the park, I was there earlier today and left something there, then we can go to my house,"
His smile showed much relief, and my heart started to beat erratically. His hand found my thigh and I felt the comforting warmth try to overwhelm the horrible feeling in my stomach. It didn't. My hands started to quiver as we neared the park that I had been calling my home for months. I shut my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat. When I heard him turn on his blinker I opened my eyes and saw us turning into the parking lot. He pulled into a parking space and shifted into park. I exhaled deeply and unclicked my seat belt. I saw Quinn move to do the same thing.
I put my hand over his and said, "No, don't worry, I'll be quick," and opened the door before he could say anything. I bent down and smiled at him before shutting the door and turning to walk away. I looked up at the sky and saw dark grey clouds flying by. The air was thick with the electricity of an upcoming storm, and I shivered as a cool gust of wind swept over my body. My boots crunched on the gravel and I kicked an empty Pepsi can out of the way before I stepped on to the dried out grass. It hadn't rained in a while, and a storm would not be unwelcome.
I walked through the park with a sinking feeling lodged in my stomach. Kids ran and screamed and I secretly envied them. I remembered when I was young and played in this park. My mom would push me on the swings and I closed my eyes, giggled and pretended I was flying. My favorite thing was the big cement tube that you could crawl through there. I always hid in there until my mom or dad would walk past, then I jumped out and scared them. Now, I had occasionally been using that tube as a place to sleep, if it was raining at night.
Next to the bench was a bush, and under that bush was the backpack full of clothes I carried around. I picked it up, and instead of turning to walk back to Quinn's car, I sat down on the bench. I put the backpack in my lap and let my head drop to it. I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes, but squeezed them together hard enough so that none could get through. Millions of thoughts ran through my head, and I couldn't make sense out of any of them. Quinn would find out that I was homeless. It was no longer a question of "if" he would, now it was only "when" would he? Soon, I said to myself. And then what?
"Anna? Anna, what's wrong? Did you lose something?" I heard, and looked up to see Quinn standing a few feet in front of me. The winds of the approaching storm tousled his hair and whipped his shirt around his thin frame. I quickly wiped the few tears that managed to escape away from my eyes and exhaled deeply. He sat next to me and put his arm around me.
"What is it you're not telling me? It's tearing me apart to see you so sad, Anna. Please tell me what's wrong, I want to make you feel better." He said, and pulled me close.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Yes, of course, I do." he said, and rubbed my back comfortingly. I leaned my head back and blinked the tears away. I took a deep breath and prepared to tell him everything.
"Well, remember when I called my mom?" I asked, and he nodded. I continued, "Well, I don't actually have a mom. You see, at home it is 'was- just me and my dad¦"
I told him the whole thing. I kept my head down as I talked, and watched teardrops splatter on my backpack. When I finished, I let out a huge sigh, and it felt as if I had just lost fifty pounds that I didn't even know I had. After a few moments of Quinn's silence, I looked up to see him wiping a tear away from his perfect eyes. He looked down at me but still said nothing. I lowered my head back down and tried to will away my awful assumptions of what ran through his head.
He put his fingers on my chin and pulled me to face him. He planted a gentle kiss on my lips and smiled a sad smile. "Wow. That's all I can really say. That, and I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Someone like you doesn't deserve something like that," he said and pulled me close, kissing me gently on the top of the head. I said nothing, but buried myself in his arms. I felt my tears dry up and leave me. I felt relived, but apprehensive. I was overjoyed that I had finally gotten it off of my chest, but worried about what would happen next. As much as I disliked my dad, and figured he hadn't even noticed that I actually did leave, I couldn't leave for good without at least telling him. Lightning flashed above us, and a few seconds later, the low rumble of distant thunder followed. I shivered as the wind picked up.
"We better get going" he said, and stood up. He stretched his arms above his shoulders and winced as his back made loud popping noises. He yawned and looked back to me, "Do you want to head back to my place, or do you have somewhere else you're so supposed to go¦or something¦" he finished awkwardly.
I stood up next to him and looked up at the sky for a moment before responding. Above us, the clouds were moving by faster and getting darker as the minutes wore on. Wind whipped around me and lightning would flash every few seconds. I pretended to ponder my options. I looked at the bench, looked at Quinn, and then back at the bench.
"You know what, I'll think I'll head back to your place. My place," I said, and motioned towards the bench, "My place has a few leaks!" I said and smiled at him. He laughed and picked up my backpack, tossing it over his shoulder. I was next. He picked me up and carried me all the way to the car, even as I tried to kick my way free, laughing the whole time. After one particularly loud clap of thunder, Quinn jumped and almost dropped me. Only then did he finally set me down and let me walk on my own. Unbeknownst to me, a few feet after where he set me down was a hole which I discovered by stepping in it and falling flat on my face.
"Yeah I bet you want me to carry you now. Well, too bad!" Quinn joked, and walked past me. I got up and ran up to him, putt my arm through his and intertwined our fingers. We approached his car just as the first droplets of water were splashing onto his hood. I jogged over to the passenger side and pulled the handle. Nothing. It was locked. I bent down to see Quinn laughing at me through the window. I pounded on the window as it started to pour.
"Quinn! You let me in right now! It's fricken pouring out here! QUINN!" I yelled, laughing as my wet hair fell in front of my face and my clothes started to stick to me. Quinn rolled his eyes and unlocked the door. I flew inside and slammed the door shut. "Jerk." I said, and shook my head back and forth, my wet hair splattering him with drops of water.
"Sorry, it was stuck," he said, and smiled an innocent smile at me, and wiped off the water from his face. .
I stuck my tongue out at him, "I bet it was, I bet it was. Well, now my clothes are all wet, thanks." I said to him and plopped back against the seat, squirming to get comfortable in my wet jeans.
He smiled innocently again and said, "Well I guess you'll just have to take them off then!" I pushed his shoulder and rolled my eyes at him. "Well, you don't want to wear wet clothes do you? You'll get sick!" he said, defensively. I sighed and smiled at him as I shook my head. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned over to give me a kiss before he pulled out of the parking lot.
We drove in a comfortable silence, the only noise being the rhythmic swishes of the windshield wipers flicking off water that poured down onto the windshield. The silence gave me time to take a step back in my mind and review what had just happened. I told Quinn everything and it felt great, but there was still something else that felt like a brick in the bottom of my stomach. There was something else that I needed to do before that brick would dissolve. I needed to go home. My mind told me that I had to get up, go, leave. It said that I didn't owe my dad anything, and I didn't have any loose ends to tie up. But my heart replayed all the times we spent in the park, laughing and playing, and I knew that I couldn't just go. I had to say goodbye at least.
By the time I had begun to get a plan formulated in my mind, Quinn's blinker sounded and we pulled into the apartment complex parking lot. He parked in his usual spot and turned the car off. I sighed and tipped my head to look out the window at the rain that was pounding the roof of the car. A bolt of lightning struck close by, and the thunder immediately following it was loud enough to cause me to let out a frightened shriek. I looked over at Quinn and shot him the meanest face I could make, to express my disgust at the weather conditions. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders in a well, what do you want me to do? kind of fashion. He opened his door and I did too.
I ran around to his side of the car, and tried to sprint to the door, but just as I passed Quinn, I felt his arms wrap around my waist.
"Quinn! What the hell! I'm wet enough, let me go!" I yelled, and tried to squirm out of his arms. He just laughed at me, succeeding in making me more frustrated. I turned around and started to hit him lightly on the chest with my fists, pleading for freedom. After a few seconds of that, I realized it wasn't working and stood still. I fell against him and buried my head in his chest, trying to get him as wet as possible. I lifted my head up and looked straight into his eyes. His gorgeous, cerulean eyes stared back at me. His pitch black hair was stuck to his head, and when he shook it to get it out of his eyes, it landed in a messy mop. I couldn't help but smile.
"Anna, I think I just might love you," he said quietly, and traced his fingers around the outside of my face, pushing wet strands of hair behind my ears.
I blushed and leaned forward. I planted a kiss on his cheek, and moved close to his ear so I could whisper, "I think I love you too."
I couldn't help smiling as we walked hand in hand to the door. I no longer noticed the rain pouring down on us, but bathed in the warmth of Quinn's touch. We walked through the door and over to the elevators. As the elevator creaked upwards, Quinn held me close and all of my worries disappeared. I knew what I'd have to do, but at the time, all I could think about was Quinn and New York.
We approached the door to his apartment and I started to tickle him as he was looking for his keys. As soon as he put his hand in his pocket, I pinned it to his side and ran my fingers down his back, making him squirm and jump out of the way.
"Hey, hey, hey now! I have to find those keys so we can get inside!" he said, and I reluctantly backed off. I crossed my arms across my chest and shivered as Quinn dug through his pockets looking for his keys. After a few more minutes and muttered curses from Quinn, I was starting to freeze. I ran over to a corner and sat down, bringing my legs to my chest. My wet jeans clung to my legs and my shoes made squishing sounds when I walked.
"Quinn? Did you find them yet? I'm freezing my ass off!" I said, and shivered again.
"GOT IT!" he yelled, and held up a pair of keys. I jumped up and ran over to him. He put his hand on the doorknob to insert the key, and to my and his surprise, it turned and opened without unlocking it. He smiled.
"Guess it wasn't locked. Oops." Quinn said, and winked at me. I gave him an angry look and ran after him. He dodged my grasp and stuck his tongue at me as he walked backward. Unbeknownst to him, the couch was close behind him and he walked right into it, falling over backwards. I laughed and jumped on him, one leg on each side of his waist.
"I guess I fell on you. Oops!" I said, and fell limp on him. I stuck my tongue out and pretended to be dead. He didn't fall for it. Instead, he decided to get revenge on me for tickling him in the hallway. He ran his fingers across my sides and I squealed in surprise. For the second time I flipped off the couch and landed hard on the floor.
"I quit. This couch sucks; I'm going to get out of these clothes and go to sleep." I said, as I stifled a yawn. I got up and crossed the room, rolling my wet shirt off and over my head.
"Yeah I'll be right there. Are you going to take a shower?" he asked, and I nodded. "Well, I'll probably be in bed when you get out, so just elbow me if you need more room to lie down, k?"
"Alright, or I could just dump some water on your head, we'll see. G'night," I said, as I kissed him on the forehead and set off to the shower.
I let the warm water pour down over my body and relaxed. As much as I could put my body at ease, my mind wouldn't rest. I was scared. I hadn't seen my dad in months, and now I had to find him and tell him I was leaving with a boy. Would he care? Did I want him to care? I just didn't know what to think. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts. I stuck my head back under the flow of water and let the pounding water drown out the things I thought could happen.
I stepped out of the shower in cloud of steam, and wrapped myself up in a towel. On top of the sink was a shirt Quinn had left for me. I picked it up and smelled his cologne on it. I sighed and dried off so I could put the towel around my hair after I pulled his shirt on. It hung halfway between my hips and my knees and made me feel very comfy. I picked up my wet clothes and put them in a plastic bag I had found under his sink. I pulled the towel off of my head and my red curls fell down over my shoulders. As I brushed my hair, I rooted through his drawers looking for a rubber band. I tied my hair back in a bun and opened the bathroom door.
The apartment was dark, but the lights from the city outside shown through the window giving me enough light to maneuver my way through his bedroom. I admired the silhouette of his chest rising and falling steadily in the glow of the city lights. I was careful to set myself down carefully next to him so I wouldn't wake him up. He sighed as burrowed in next to him. I laid my head in his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around my waist. I fell asleep within minutes, lulled by the calm of his quiet breathing.
In the morning I woke up to the sun shining through the window into my eyes. I sat up, careful not to wake Quinn, and stretched my arms far above my head, listening to my back and shoulders crack loudly. I got up and walked over to the suitcases stacked in the corner of the room. On top of the biggest one were two plane tickets. I looked at the departure time and it read: Saturday, June 17th, 8:45, gate 5. I glanced over at the calendar on the opposite wall and followed the ex'd out days up until Thursday the 15th. Today was Friday, which meant the flight was tomorrow. My stomach jumped in happiness mixed with nervousness. I walked out into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of OJ and one for Quinn too. On the table I set out two bowls and filled them with cereal and milk. It was a sad attempt to pay him back for everything he'd done for me the past few days.
Just as I opened the refrigerator to put the milk back in, Quinn stumbled out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it down, but only succeeding in making it stick up more. I smiled at the look on his face when he saw that I had prepared breakfast for him.
"Hey, thanks¦ You didn't hafta do that¦" he said, as he yawned again.
"It's the least I could do, seriously. I don't know how I'm going to repay you for doing all of this for me, Quinn. It means a lot." I said, and sat down across from him.
"It's nothing, really, if anything, I should be thanking you," he said, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I can't imagine going to New York and waking up without you by my side." He said, and grabbed my hands from across the table. "I love you, Anna."
My smile faltered, "I love you too, Quinn. But there's something I have to do before we leave," he nodded, and encouragement to go on, "I have to find my dad," I stopped at the look of surprise on his face when I said that.
"Your dad? From what I've heard, if I were you I'd want to get as far away from him as possible!" he said.
"I know, I know¦It's just¦He's my dad, you know? I can't just leave without at least letting him know. It's only fair to him, as much as he doesn't deserve it." I said, and Quinn nodded.
"I guess¦If it's something you really want to do."
"Do you want to go after breakfast? I could give you a ride to the apartment and sit in the car while you two talk things out."
"Yeah, yeah we could do that," I said, and sighed nervously. This was moving really quickly, but it was a now or never situation. We finished up our cereal in a contemplative silence. Thoughts of my dad and the last time I saw him were racing through my head, and Quinn's eyes looked beautiful as usual, but as if there was something else going on behind them. I started to tap my foot and glance around anxiously as I waited for Quinn to say something. Finally, he did.
"Are you alright?" he asked, and I tried to smile and laugh. The laugh was a little bit too high pitched and smiling made me want to throw up a little bit.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Well, I don't know, really. I'm nervous I guess." I said.
"I bet. I'm sure seeing your dad again will give you the closure you need to be able to start over somewhere new though, I think you're doing the right thing." he said.
"Well, what about you? Are you going to try to find your mom before we leave?" I asked, and he shook his head.
"No, no I don't think so. I left once, I couldn't do it to her again. Things are better now that I'm on my own. Maybe I'll call from New York. Then again, maybe not, I guess I'll just see how everything pans out." I understood.
Downstairs in the laundry room, I dumped out my backpack full of clothes and poured a cup of soap into the washer. I deposited the coin Quinn gave me and watched the machine whir to life. It seemed as though I couldn't sit still, I must have paced the length of the room ten times, receiving awkward looks from the other laundry room inhabitants. When the washer beeped loudly, signaling the completion of my wash, I jumped up and let a small gasp escape my lips. This only caused more heads to turn my way, so I averted my eyes and loaded my wet clothes into the dryer as silently as I could and forced myself to sit and be still.
After the clothes finished drying, I hauled them into a basket and walked to the elevator. Once in there, I set the basket down and leaned my head back against the wall. The fluorescent lights hurt my eyes, so I shut them, still facing upwards. When the door beeped for the ninth floor, I didn't go out right away, but took a deep breath before I stood up straight. When I opened my eyes Quinn was standing in front of the open door.
"Taking a nap?" he asked, "I was just coming down to check on you," he said, and I stepped out of the elevator. He put his arm around my shoulders as we walked back to his room.
Back in his apartment, I handed him his clothes that had been mixed in with mine, and went into the bathroom to change. I put on a plain black shirt and my nicest pair of jeans, or at least the ones with the least amount of holes in them. I brushed through the tangles in my hair and brushed a little bit of eyeliner on my bottom lid. I stood in front of the mirror, with my hands on the sink steadying me, looking into my reflection. I was so scared that I began to cry. It started with only one tear falling down, but after that the dam broke and I let it all go. I sat down on the side of the tub and buried my face in my hands. Quinn knocked softly from the other side of the door and I heard his muffled voice as me if I was okay. I tried to say yes, but through the tears it was difficult.
He opened the door slowly and peeked inside, "Anna, sweetie, what's wrong?" he asked, and I responded tearfully,
"I'm just so nervous, Quinn. I don't know what he's going to do! I think what I'm the most worried about is that maybe he won't even care. Or maybe he won't even be there! He could be in jail for all I know!" I said, and started to sob harder. Quinn wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him.
"There's only one way to find out," he said when my sobs started to subside a little. I looked up at him and knew that he was right. I wiped my tears away and stood up.
"You're right." I said after a deep breath. "I'm ready if you are." I said, and he nodded. Walking out of his room, he closed the door behind him, not bothering to lock it this time. He grabbed my shaking hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. I looked over and flashed him a nervous smile, and we walked the rest of the way in silence.
As Quinn pulled out of the parking lot, he asked, "Where to?"
"Left up here, it's on12th & Brady. You know where that is?" I asked, and he nodded. I was grateful for his obvious respect for the silence that I needed. As we drove, my anticipation grew. Buildings began to look more familiar until I told Quinn to stop. I breathed in deeply and turned to look out the window at the red brick apartment complex. The grass in front of the complex was just overgrown enough to give it a sense of foreboding, and the cracked and crumbled concrete steps gave it a dilapidated look. I moved to open the door, but stopped when I saw three men in suits run out the back door, followed by two obvious residents of the place. Quinn looked at me questioningly but I gave him a look that expressed my lack of surprise. When they were clear out of sight, I opened the door and stepped halfway out before Quinn said my name.
"Anna? Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, his eyes begging for a sign of some way he could help. I shook my head and bent back in to give him a kiss. I shut the door and walked up the crumbled steps and through the front door. My boots made loud clunking noises on the uncarpeted hallway and the sound echoed lifelessly down the hall. A few doors hung open, some with broken hinges and some without an owner that cared if it was open or shut. No one else walked through the halls, and I don't think I'd ever felt so lonely in my life. I glanced around nervously, knowing fully well what kind of people usually took up residence in a place like this.
I rounded a corner and was faced with more cement stairs. There was a railing on the side, but I wouldn't touch it. I walked slowly and deliberately with my head up. The last thing I wanted to do was appear insecure to any doped up passerby. At the second flight, I was taking a cigarette break on the landing, when one of the doped up losers stumbled down the stairs. He stopped in front of me and eyed me up, in no way trying to disguise his obvious thoughts. I stubbed out my cigarette on the way, as had many others, and turned the walk away. The guy grabbed my arm, and his cold fingers sent shivers up my spine.
"Where do you think you're goin' beautiful?" he said, and smiled a yellow grin up at me. He smelled like old whiskey and his bloodshot eyes warned me immediately that I needed to go. I shook my arm free and turned to run up the stairs. I heard him take a few steps after me but stop after determining that going up stairs is a whole lot harder when you're high as a kite.
At the third level, I stopped walking up the stairs and turned left to a door with a broken handle. I yanked the door open and stepped out into another dingy hallway. This one, unlike the bottom floor was carpeted, but what color the carpet was, I wasn't really sure. It was full of stains from any substance one could guess, and occasionally was ripped through down to the cement. I walked up to door number 42. I noticed that someone has scrawled a "0" at the end, obviously thinking they were clever. I raised my hand to knock, but paused when I heard voices coming from inside. I heard footsteps approaching the door, so I bolted around the nearest corner and poked my head around the side, watching to see what happened. A man with a dirty white beater tucked halfway in his tight jeans walked out, looking less than pleased.
When I saw that no one else intended to follow, I walked back up to the door which hadn't been bothered to be shut. I peered in. Not much hand changed. It was still a mess, beer cans and dirty clothes littered the floor. I leaned in a bit further.
Cautiously, I said, "Dad?" and waited for a response. Getting none, I stepped cautiously inside, calling out again. "Daddy? Are you here? It's Anna," I said, walking in further, being careful to step over the beer cans. The sink was piled high with dishes that smelled like they hadn't been bothered to be washed in quite a while, and the faucet made dripping noises as a leak plunked on the porcelain below. A pair of keys sat next to an aged magazine, and a clock ticked on the wall above the refrigerator. Aside from that, I couldn't hear anything even as I strained to pick up the faintest noise. I walked down the narrow hallway to the doors located at the end. I passed the bathroom and continued past it to my dad's room. I peered in, and saw nothing but a mess. The bed wasn't made, it didn't even have sheets. A woolen blanket and a pillow were the only things in sight. There was no sign of my dad.
I walked back out and past the bathroom when something caught my eye from inside of it. I backtracked and looked in. Sitting so still I hadn't seen him the first time was my dad. He was sitting on the floor with his knees brought up to his chest and his head resting between them.
"Dad?" I said, and was startled when he whipped his head up in surprise. His red, glossed over eyes looked up at me in shock, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. I smiled a shaky smile, but couldn't manage to produce any type of sound. He shakily got to his feet and took a few awkward steps towards me.
"Anna? Anna, is that you? Where have you been¦I've been looking¦where¦?" he trailed off and began to sob as he pulled me into his arms. I didn't know what to do as he cried into my shoulder. Had he really been looking for me? My mind was cluttered with thoughts and questions that needed to be answered. But how to go about asking them? I was so confused and scared, that I couldn't think of anything to do beside halfheartedly hug him back. After a few more moments of the awkward embrace, he pulled away, still holding me by the shoulders. His eyes were still wet with tears when he spoke again.
"God, you look just like your mother, Anna." he said, and shook his head in what looked like mild disbelief. I was taken aback, that was the first time he'd ever mentioned my mother in all of my 16 years. I couldn't manage anything but a few syllables of nothing that made sense. All the things I had recited in my head had left me minutes ago and I was left here unarmed with words or definable emotions. Finally, a question surfaced to my mind and before I could rethink it, it was already out of my mouth.
"Were you really looking for me?" I asked, and then clapped my hands over my mouth, fearful of his reaction. Not for the first time that night, his reply shocked me.
"Of course I was. You're my daughter, and I love you." Never in my life had I heard my dad say that, I was left speechless and my mouth actually hung open for a while. He pulled me in for another embrace, and whispered in my ear, "I've changed, Anna, I really have. No more liquor, no more heroin or anything like that. I'm clean, forever this time." he said, and after hearing those words I couldn't think of anything else to do beside hug him back, this time with meaning. My dad was clean! I couldn't believe it; he had actually changed and was fixing things with his life. My heart swelled with long dormant feelings of love and pride.
"Wow, Dad, that's really great. Wow." I said, at loss for any other words. He smiled at me and walked me out to the kitchen, clearing the table as he motioned for me to sit down. I did so, still in shock from everything that had happened in the last five minutes. After removing all the dishes and wiping the crumbs off with a damp paper towel, my dad sat down across from me and smiled again.
"I'm so glad you're back, Anna. Where were you? Why'd you come back? I thought you were gone forever," Why did I come back? I remembered why I came here in the first place. It wasn't to rekindle the relationship with my dad; it was to tell him that I was leaving. I was going to New York with Quinn, the boy I was in love with. Quinn and New York had been the furthest things from my mind as soon as I saw my dad sitting on the bathroom floor, but now I remembered everything. Quinn was out in the car waiting for me. How long had it been since I'd walked into the building? 20 minutes? 30 minutes? An hour? I hadn't a clue. But looking across the table at my dad, seeing his smile and his eyes that were only bloodshot from crying, I couldn't tell him about New York¦not yet.
"I'm staying with a friend. H-¦She's waiting outside right now, so I should probably go," I said, and watched the smile on his face disappear.
"You're leaving?" he asked, and I noticed that his eyes started to shine with fresh tears at the end of his question. I struggled to find an answer.
"No¦Yes, but only to get my stuff," I said quickly, and instantly regretted it. You're not getting your stuff, you're going to New York. The voice inside my head said, but I pushed it out and flashed a smile at my dad. "So I'll be back later¦okay?" I asked, and gave him a quick hug before I ran out of the door. I slammed it behind me and leaned back against it, breathing hard. What did I just do? As soon as I asked myself, the answer dawned on me clearly and painfully. I wanted it to be something different, something better, but it wasn't. But how to tell Quinn?
I walked down the hallway, quickly with my head down. When I reached the stairs I pounded down them until I was back at the uncarpeted front hallway. I walked past two people doing a drug deal, and out the front door. I breathed in deeply, relishing the fresh air without the stagnation of lost lives and dreams that the apartment complex held. I walked through the decrepit lawn and down the broken steps out to Quinn's car. He jumped when I opened the door, but the look of surprise was instantly replaced with one of relief. He leaned over and hugged me tightly, planting a kiss on my cheek.
"Anna¦thank God you're okay. I was just about to go in and look for you, I was so worried," he said, and I looked at the clock on the dash. I'd been in there for an hour. No wonder he had begun to worry, I would have too.
"Are you¦you know¦Okay? You look a little disheveled. How did everything go?" he asked. I took a deep breath before I replied, unsure of what I should or shouldn't say.
Looking into his clear blue eyes, I knew that I couldn't tell him. "It went well, actually. He's sober now, and he acted like he sincerely missed me. It was actually kind of weird, believe it or not."
"I believe it," he said. "How did he take the news of you going to New York?" he asked, and I froze. It took a few seconds before I was able to muster out an answer.
"¦Good, I guess. He wasn't too happy about it¦but you know¦" I trailed off, and was relieved when Quinn nodded his understanding. He reached over and gave my hand a squeeze, and flashed me a smile of happiness.
"This is going to be great, Anna, really great. I love you," he said, and I closed my eyes and whispered back,
"I love you too, Quinn." I said, and leaned my head back against the seat. Tears began to form at the corners of my eyes and silently roll down my cheeks. As Quinn pulled into the parking lot and parked in his usual space, he looked over to see me silently crying. His hands flew off the wheel and wrapped around my shoulders. I put my head in his and began to cry harder.
"Anna, Anna, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asked, and my shoulders heaved before I could tell him.
"I can't go, Quinn. I can't go to New York, I have to stay here." I said, and fell limp into his arms. His body went stiff as he pulled away from me, looking at me in disbelief.
Wh-What do you mean, cant go? he said, he face contorted with emotions that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. "I thought you said things went well and that he was okay with it! Quinn said, his voice just under a yell. "I thought you loved me, Anna. What the hell happened to that, huh? he asked, and I noticed that he looked like he was on the verge of anger. I writhed away from him, leaning against the passenger side door. I looked at him in fear, his face was flushed and his usual serene eyes were filled with anger and hurt I hadn't witnessed before.
Seeing the fear I felt, Quinn's eyes softened and he sighed. "Anna come here, he said, and touched my shoulder. I flinched, and he looked hurt. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten so mad. I just don't understand! he said, his eyes starting to gleam with tears. I hugged him tight, and when I pulled away, there was a fresh damp spot on his shirt where I laid my head.
Can we talk about this inside, maybe? I asked, now hesitant to disrupt his obviously fragile mood. He took a deep breath in to regain his composure, and nodded. He turned the keys and the car died. As we walked up the stairs and into the apartment, an uncomfortable silence walked with us. In the elevator, he pressed the nine and stood in the corner opposite from mine, and on the way down the hall to his room, he didn't take my hand or acknowledge me in any way for that matter. This hurt more than the angry look I saw in his eyes minutes before.
In his room, the silence wasn't broken until I sat down at the table and held my chin up with my hands. I was staring into space, specifically concentrating on a crack in one of the corner walls when Quinn startled me.
Want any coffee? he asked emotionlessly as he put the pot on the coffee maker and reached into the cupboard to pull out mugs.
Ah, no thanks, I said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. My head hurt from crying and my eyes were swollen and painful to the touch. I rubbed my aching eyes with the palm of my hands and wiped them on my jeans, wondering how I got myself into this mess. No sooner did that thought cross my mind, than Quinn sat down across from me with a very audible sigh. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but closed it when nothing satisfying came to mind. After a few seconds he tried again, but only managed to shake his head and bury himself in his cup of coffee. A few more minutes of awkward silence passed with neither of us knowing what to say, before Quinn finally spoke up.
So uh, he stuttered, "Why are you not coming? he finally got out. He shifted awkwardly in his chair and stirred his coffee around. His hair covered his eyes, and I saw one hand reach up to rub something under there. When he looked up, his tearful eyes met mine and I looked away.
I cant, Quinn I want to, more than anything in the world.
Well if you want to then why are you staying here!? he said, cutting me off. The anger in his eyes returned, but it was more muted and diluted with sadness than anything else. I recoiled back again at the sound of his voice.
I...uh well I started, but burst into tears again before I could continue. If he just gave me a chance to explain I could, but his anger threw me off. I never saw him angry before and I didn't know what to do. He reached across the table to grab my hand, and I took it gratefully.
Sorry, I really am. I just¦ he said, again barely above a whisper, "Sorry. Go on, I'm listening.
Well, my dad, I didn't tell him about New York, I didn't stop, even when I saw the confused look on Quinn's face. "When I got there, he told me that he was looking for me, and that he was clean and he was so excited that I was coming home. I couldn't tell him, I just couldn't¦ I trailed off. I didn't expect to see any sympathy, but I was really shocked when it seemed that he only got more upset.
Why do you look so upset? Is it wrong that I want to stay and be with my dad? I mean, he's clean now, so we can get out of that apartment and start over. I said, and smiled at him. It didn't seem to phase him.
Please Anna, you're not serious are you? he said, and chuckled sarcastically.
What do you mean am I serious? Of course I'm serious! I said, defensively.
He shook his head and sighed. "Anna, you're talking about the dad who kicked you out by throwing a bottle of wine at you. You're talking about the guy who would shoot up while you were home. That's who you're talking about. He hasn't gone to therapy and he hasn't moved out of that shit hole apartment. I doubt that he's even really clean.
I was taken aback. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and I let him know. "What the hell is wrong with you Quinn? Couldn't you for once think about me and what I want to do to be happy? Do you think it's easy for me to trust my dad again? Do you think it's easy for me to leave you here when all I want to do is be with you for as long as I live? DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE SLIGHTEST CLUE ABOUT WHAT IM GOING THROUGH RIGHT NOW? I yelled, and put my head down over my arms and started to cry angrily. I didn't understand how he could be so unfair, it just wasn't reasonable.
Jesus Christ, Anna. You don't have to freak out on me, I just want what's best for you! he said, his pale face flushing pink.
What's best for me? I whispered, my voice shaking from trying not to yell. "What's best for me?! You hardly even know me, Quinn! You don't know a THING about me! I yelled, and stood up, pushing the chair backwards with a loud screech. I walked out the door without closing it and started down the hall. I heard Quinn yell behind me,
I know you enough to know he yelled, then his voice trailed away a little quieter, "I know you enough to know that you deserve better. he said, and lowered his head. I stopped, but didn't look back. Tears ran down my face and my hands were shaking with a combination of anger and sadness. I walked down all nine flights of stairs and out into the cool summers night air.
I sat down against the brick siding of the building, my breathing ragged from the stairs and my face flushed pink and soaked with tears. I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face. I couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Didn't he believe me? If my dad said he was clean, he must be. Why would he lie to me? Quinn was being selfish, no doubt about that, I just couldn't figure out why. It hurt to have him mad at me, but it hurt even more knowing that tomorrow he would be leaving for New York without me. I wanted to go so badly, but I knew that I needed to be there for my dad. My insides ached with a dull pain I never felt before. It felt like everything that once made me happy found a black hole in the pit of my stomach and was sucked away into nothingness.
I walked over to Quinn's car, and sat on the hood, my back against the windshield so I could see his room. I watched it for at least two hours, occasionally seeing a silhouette pass by, but more often than not, it was just a yellow square up in the corner of the building. When the lights clicked off, I waited another hour before I slid off the hood of the car. My back was stiff, so I twisted around and heard the joints pop loudly in the still air. I walked around the front of the car and towards the front doors to the building. Inside, the lights were dim and I could barely make out the outline of the elevator. Inside of the elevator, the usually dim fluorescent lights hurt my blood shot and swollen eyes, and the contemporary jazz music made my head pound.
At the ninth floor, I stepped out and walked down the hallway and up to Quinn's door. I put my ear to it and listened for any activity on the inside. Hearing none, I quietly put my hand on the doorknob and turned. Thankfully, it turned willingly under my hand and I slipped quietly inside the dark room. I closed the door behind me, and tip toed through the dark kitchen into the living room. I crept down the hallway to his room and looked in. The moon shining through the window made his frame visible. He was curled up in a ball with the blankets pulled tight to him. I couldn't help but smile, and remember how we'd fight over that blanket until he'd get up and go get a different one for himself. The memory stung me, so I turned around and walked back out to the couch and lay down. Blinking back tears in the darkness, I pulled my knees up to my chest and closed my eyes, succumbing to sleep.
In the morning I awoke to the sight of Quinn sitting at the table, absently stirring his spoon around in his bowl of cereal. His black suitcases were piled up by the door with my backpack leaning against one of them and two tickets to New York sat in front of him. His eyes were half closed, but I couldn't determine if it was because it was early or he didn't sleep much. I heard him get up during the night and walk around his room for a few minutes. I yawned and sat up, my red curls falling in front of my face. I brushed them out of my face and saw Quinn smiling a sad smile at me. I smiled back, but it wasn't a happy smile.
Hey I whispered.
Hey he whispered back and started to concentrate on his cereal bowl again. "D'ya want any? he asked, motioning to the bowl.
No thanks. I said. The silence between us grew very full, and I thought for sure my eardrums were going to burst. Everything felt muted, as if we were underwater. Finally, when the silence was building to the unbearable point he spoke up.
Well, uh, it's like half past 11, do you want me to give you a ride over to your dads? Unless¦ he trailed off, with a tinge of hope at the end of his words.
Yeah, if it's on the way, you could drop me off. I said, reluctantly and he nodded without saying a word. He stood up and dumped his bowl in the sink and washed it out. He reached above his head and put the clean bowl into the cupboard and turned around. He put his arms on the counter and I caught sight of his startlingly beautiful eyes, and realized that I was really going to miss them. I was really going to miss him. His laugh, his smile, the way he'd put his arm around me when I was sleeping. I stopped myself from thinking about the things that I would be missing soon enough.
Well as soon as, oh hey Brian, glad to see you're still not knocking. Quinn said, as Brian walked through the front door.
Hey, hey, hey buddy! Ready to go? Brian asked, obnoxious as usual. "Oh hey Anna, looking good!
I nodded in his direction and so did Quinn. Brian looked at both of us with a confused look on his face, but seemed to come to the conclusion that he would ask questions later. He grabbed one of Quinn's suitcases and Quinn took the other. I picked up my backpack and followed them out. Brian closed the door, and Quinn threw him a key.
Take good care of her, Brian. I do plan on coming back you know! he said in a false sense of cheeriness. Brian gave him a salute and then clicked his heals before he took off with the suitcase. I let out a quiet chuckle, but it didn't do anything to lighten my mood.
When we got out to Quinn's car, he took one last look up at the building before popping the trunk and tossing his suitcases in there. He walked over to Brian and gave him a hug.
I'll miss ya, buddy. Brian said, as he clapped Quinn hard on the back.
Yeah, hey but I'll give you a call, okay? Soon as I get there. Quinn said and patted him on the back as well, although not nearly as hard. I walked over to Brian and gave him a hug too.
It was nice meeting you, Brian. Thanks for letting me come to the Social D concert. I said and he nodded.
See ya later, Anna.
Quinn and I got in the car and he pulled out of the parking lot. An uncomfortable silence rode in between us. I looked out the window watching the world pass us by. I saw a couple walking down the street holding hands, and I had to bite my lip to shift focus away from the urge to start crying. I leaned my head back against the cool leather and brought one hand up to rub my temple. My head ached badly and I longed for a better solution, one where we could both be happy, together. Unfortunately, my mind drew blanks. I kept my head back and my eyes closed until I felt the car slow and pull up in front of the apartment building that I would be calling home again. I sighed and leaned back in my seat. I felt the now familiar sting of tears behind my eyes. I let out a deep exhale and turned to face Quinn
I looked over at Quinn to see him staring out the windshield with tears running down his cheeks. He gripped the bottom of the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. I didn't know what to do. He looked over at me and I saw those perfect blue eyes clouded with tears. I opened my mouth to say something, anything. All I wanted was him to stop crying, he didn't deserve to be hurt, I did. I was the one doing all of this. I started to cry and leaned over to him. He took me in his arms, and I wrapped mine around him. I sobbed into his shoulder, taking in the warmth of his torso; embracing the comfort it supplied me. He kissed me on the top of my head and buried his face in my hair. It wasn't long before I could feel dampness reach my scalp.
We cried in each other's arms for a long time before he pulled away, looking at the clock on his dash. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and let out a shaky sigh.
Anna he said, choking back more tears, "Anna, I have to go.
No, Quinn, please. Don't leave me, stay here with me. Please? We can make it work. I promise. I'm so sorry I said through tears and hitching shoulders. I fell back into his arms. "Please Quinn, please don't go I cried, and he rubbed my back.
Ssssh he said, "Anna, it'll be okay, I promise, okay? Everything will be fine, I swear. Okay? Okay?! he asked, and pulled me away to look into my eyes. "I promise.
Looking into those eyes, I couldn't do anything but nod. With tears still running down my face, I opened my door and got out of the car, our hands parting at the furthest extension of our reaches. I bent down to grab my backpack and saw him looking out at me.
I love you Anna, he said through teary eyes and quivering lips.
I shut the door and looked through the open window. I took a deep breath in and managed to stutter out, "I l-l-love y-you t-t-too, Quinn.
He rolled up the window and pulled away from the curb. I took one step out into the street to watch him drive slowly away. When I could no longer see the back of his car, I turned around and sat down hard on the curb. I buried my face in my hands and shook my head back and forth. I couldn't believe it. He actually left. Every good thing that rose up inside of me for the past week left when he did. I felt deflated and empty, knowing that this whole thing was my fault, but also knowing that I did it for my dad. My dad needed me, and as much as I needed Quinn, I knew that I must stay with my dad.
I lifted my head up and wiped away the tears. I shakily stood up and threw my backpack over my shoulder and walked up the decrepit stairs into the building. The lighting was dim as usual, so I stood in the doorway allowing my eyes to adjust. Once they did, the gravity of what I had just done hit me hard. I looked around at the cracked walls, heard the mumbles of dealers and deal-ees and smelled the scent of abandonment. I shook my head quickly, as if to shoo away all the things I wished I never saw.
I walked up the stairs, and thankfully came across no one that gave me any trouble. I walked up to the door to the hallway in which my dad lived and paused. I took a deep breath and turned the handle, leaning my shoulder into it so that it would pop open. Once it did, I stumbled into the hallway. I slowly walked down the hallway, I could feel me paling and it felt as if I might puke. I walked for about 20 feet before I sat down and leaned against the wall. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. I wanted not to believe Quinn was gone, but my mind kept replaying the back of his car driving away over and over. I hit my head back against the wall, in an attempt to break whatever machine was putting it on repeat. I took a deep breath and hugged my knees to my chest, and laid my head down on them. I stared blankly into space for a few minutes, hoping to regain composure before Quinn came back.
I froze.
Quinn wasn't coming back. Quinn went to New York. I sighed dejectedly as the realization hit me full circle. I thought I understood as I sat on the curb outside. I thought I was lonely then, but it was then that I realized that I never knew true loneliness until then. I waited for tears to come, but none did. I passed the point of crying. I felt a mixture of anger, hurt, confusion and emptiness. So, what happened next? I asked myself. I blinked a few times and shook my arms, trying to make the blood flow better and bring back feeling. I knew I had to go home to my dad. We'd start over and then things would be back to normal again. I tried to remember when things were normal but I couldn't.
I stood up, still leaning against the wall. A wave of dizziness passed over me. I thought back to the last time I had eaten. Probably a day and a half prior. As if on cue, my stomach grumbled. I pushed myself off of the wall, and willed my shaky legs to move forward, back to my room. I walked back, slowly with my head down when I heard someone else coming my way. I looked up to see the same person I had passed the day before on the stairs. His eyes were bloodshot still and he smelled worse than the day before. He smiled a yellow-toothed grin at me and stumbled closer.
I moved over closer to the wall, and averted my gaze as to not make eye contact. As he approached I quickened my step. We passed each other, and I let out a sigh, then a shriek as I felt him grab my shoulders from behind. He wrapped his arm around my neck and held me close to him and chuckled quietly next to my ear. His breath stank of stale smoke and an unidentifiable liquor. I squirmed and writhed, trying to break free of his terrible grasp. Surprisingly, his grip was stronger than I had imagined. He breathed on to my neck; it sent shivers down my spine.
Hey beautiful. Haven't seen you round here much these days where've you been? he asked and chuckled quietly. I realized that I recognized him from the old days I had spent here.
I kicked my legs back hoping to hit any part of him that might loosen his grip on me, but it was in vain, he held tight no matter how many blows I hit him with.
Let go! C'mon, my dad is right over there! I said through gasping breaths. The chokehold he had on me wasn't yielding much oxygen, and black spots started to dance around in front of my eyes. I felt his grip loosen as I said that, and I seized the opportunity to deliver one more particularly hard kick to his shin. I felt his leg buckle and he released me to gain balance. I stumbled free and ran the remainder of the way to my room without looking back.
I didn't pause, but just ran straight in the door and slammed the door behind me. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the slightly darker atmosphere. As I leaned back against the door, I slid downward and breathed hard, thankful that I had yet again gotten away from that pervert. I though I remembered his name to be Rodger, or maybe that was his last name, I didn't know. But that didn't matter. I was home. Quinn left, and I was there with my dad. I stood up and walked over to the kitchen area, looking for something to eat as my stomach grumbled again. I opened up the first cabinet and saw nothing except for an empty package of what looked to be macaroni and cheese. I picked it up and shook it, hearing nothing I bent down and opened the door below the sink. Inside was a garbage can and as I went to place the package I saw something I recognized. It looked like an empty syringe. I threw the package down on top of it and stood up. I shook the image of the syringe out of my head, sure that if it actually was what it looked like, that it was probably very old.
I reached into another cabinet and pulled out an empty glass. I held it under the sink faucet and turned the water on. From behind me I heard my dad say,
Yeah, I've been meaning to get around to grocery shopping, he said, walking out of the bathroom, tossing something in the garbage next to the door. "With just me I didn't need much, but I guess I've got a second mouth to feed now, eh? he said. I turned around and saw that he was absently scratching at his left arm. I smiled a weak smile and shut the cabinet door.
Oh, well, that's okay. I said, and sat down at the kitchen table. He looked over at me and smiled.
We can go out tonight. You know, celebrate. He said, and I couldn't help but smile back, a genuine one this time. Maybe things wouldn't be as awful as I thought they would be.
He grabbed his keys and we walked out the door. I shut it behind me and he nodded in a thank you. As we walked down the hallway I glanced nervously around, hoping not to run into Rodger again. My dad noticed me being fidgety and asked,
What's up with you? You seem twitchy.
I laughed a little bit too nervously and said, "Oh its nothing. Do you know that guy, Rodger I think? He got a disgusted look on his face and grunted in approval. "Well I've been running into him a lot lately, its just kinda got me disheveled. I said and my dad looked at me seriously.
The next time you see him, you let me know. That guy has been getting on my nerves lately and if I find out he lays a hand on you, he'll be walking with a permanent limp. His expression softened, "You know, we're not going to be living here forever, I'm going to start looking for a better place come fall.
I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I almost felt bad for feeling slightly happy. I was still crushed that Quinn left, but it seemed that with every passing moment (except for Rodger and mines encounter) things looked up. I almost expected Quinn to pop out from the next corner and hug me and say 'Just kidding! I'm still here!' Almost.
My dad and I walked out the front door into the late afternoon. The sun was dying on the horizon and I had to lift one arm up to shield my eyes from it. In the parking lot, weeds grew through the cracked asphalt and cars sat there that looked like were there longer than I was alive. I glanced around and noticed my dads white Chevy right away. Not much changed with that car. Rust ate around the exposed edges and the back window was shattered, held together hastily by a large duct tape X. My dad cleared his throat awkwardly and shuffled his feet.
I've been meanin' to get that fixed. Damn auto shop not returnin' my calls or nothin'¦ he trailed off and I had to stifle a giggle.
I walked over to the side door and pulled on the handle. Nothing. I pulled harder, it budged a little bit, and crumbles of rust fell to the pavement. I grabbed hold of the handle with both hands and used my whole body weight to pull it backwards. It flew open with a loud crunch of rust on rust. I winced and felt myself breakout in goose bumps. Noises like that went right down my spine. I shook it off and slid inside the car. The bottom was littered in cans and food wrappers, so I crossed my feet at the ankles and moved them over to the side. My dad plopped in with a groan and fumbled around with the keys until they finally went into the ignition. He turned to me and flashed a thumbs-up. I returned a smile. The car jolted into drive and scraped its rusty muffler on the curb as we pulled out of the rundown parking lot.
We rode in silence, but the silence wasn't comfortable, not like how it was with Quinn. I felt like I needed to say something, anything, but I couldn't think of anything. I watched my dad out of the corner of my eye. His hand held on the bottom of the steering wheel loosely and his mouth hung open a little bit, enough to give him the look of someone who had suffered brain damage. The salt and pepper hair that covered some of his head looked dull and flat. He looked like I had always remembered him, and the thought scared me.
Dad? I said, and the word hung in the air like a foul smell. At the sound of my voice, my dad's eyelids flickered and he sat up a little straighter. "Where are we going? I asked.
He cleared his throat and smiled a tired smile. "We're here, he said as we pulled into the driveway of a bar I knew he frequently visited when he wasn't at home with me. Confusion surged through me.
A bar, Dad? I asked, a little bit more rudely than I had intended. More softly I added, "I thought you weren't drinking anymore, He laughed quickly as the car jerked into park. He turned the car off and looked over at me.
"C'mon Anna, just because we're eating here doesn't mean I'm going to start drinking again. He said and flashed me a smile that I couldn't help but trust.
I unclipped my seat belt and heaved the door open, musing at the alarming amount of rust that fell down to the pavement. I wondered if a hole was going to begin to form in the door. I dismissed this thought and pushed the door shut. My dad got out of the other side and I could hear his joints pop as he took his first few steps. It was odd how he seemed to age so much since the last time I saw him. I walked around the side of the car and headed towards the door. My dad met up with me and we walked up to the door.
The neon beer sign above the door gave our skin a sickly yellow feel, and the dark circles under my dad's eyes stood out. I hadn't noticed them before, but I knew it was getting late and that he probably had to have gotten up early for work that same day anyway. It wasn't until he tripped over the step into the door that I thought something might be wrong.
"Dad? Are you okay? You look a little sick, I asked, concern growing in the pit of my stomach.
He smiled at me, and I wished he didn't. His face wrinkled up into a contorted half smile, half grimace. "Fine honey, just fine. It's just been a long day, let's eat.
We walked into the bar and I was met immediately by a smell I hadn't missed a bit. Smoke poured out of the door way and the yell of drunks over bad country music. I refrained from shuddering as I heard the singer strike a particularly awful note that blasted over the speakers. I walked over to a table in the corner, and brushed the crumbs off of the chair before I sat down. I looked around the smoky room and saw my dad clap some guy hard on the back. They then proceeded to walk around the corner to where I couldn't see them. I didn't know what he was up to, but I figured that since he'd quit drinking that he wasn't able to frequent the bar as often, and that they were just catching up. I put my elbows down on the table and rested my head in my hands, trying to block out the awful music blaring from the speakers.
I waited at the table for another ten minutes, fanning my hand in front of my face to keep from inhaling too much smoke, and eating the complimentary bowl of peanuts. The peanuts themselves didn't taste much like anything, but I was really hungry and decided that didn't matter. The music seemed to get louder as the minutes went by, and I kept glancing around, looking for my dad. A waitress from behind the bar started to walk over to me. She walked in an unsteady way that was slightly unnerving. Her unwashed blonde hair was grown out dark at the roots and was tied back into a pony tail and her dirty apron hung loosely around her jutting hip bones. I couldn't tell if the dark circles around her eyes were from makeup or something else. As she neared, I could hear her unsteady breathing over the music.
"Heya sweatha'. Want me to bring yous a soda or somethin'? her nasally voice made me cringe and I quickly shook my head and she smiled a yellow smile at me that happened to be missing a tooth or three. I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. I twisted to the left and right and felt my back pop. I let out a sigh that no one could hear, and rubbed my temples. My stomach growled and I just wanted to leave. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, the smoke made them water and itch. When I blinked them open, I jumped because leaning on the table across from me was my dad.
"Dad! You're back! I said and he smiled. I thought I could smell beer on his breath.
"You ready ta eat Anna? I'm starved! he yelled over the music, his words slurring to an almost incoherent level.
My mouth dropped open when I realized that he was drunk. "Dad? Are you drunk? the word tasted disgusting as I spoke it and anger surged through me.
He covered his ears, smiled and shook his head like he couldn't hear me. He waved his arm in the air and yelled out, "Hey Bettie! Getcha sweet ass ova here! The waitress that had stopped earlier, rolled her eyes and walked her rickety walk over to our table. My nails dug into the palms of my hand and I gnawed on my lips to stop myself from yelling out. How could he be drinking? I stayed because he told me that he was clean!
Quinn was right.
The thought hit me like a brick. Quinn was right, and now Quinn was gone. My hands shook with anger and I felt my face turning red. My dad paid no mind to my fury as he flirted with Bettie. She put her bony hand on my dad's shoulders and laughed in a high pitch screech that made me clench my teeth together harder.
"Dad? Dad! I said, getting louder when he continued to ignore me, "DAD! I practically yelled. A few people turned their heads from the bar, but once they saw nothing too eventful happening, they resumed their drunken chatter. My dad stopped talking, and stopped smiling. His face was red, but with embarrassment from drawing attention, or anger from me interrupting him, I wasn't sure. He stared me in the eye for a second, a look that was intended to give warning, before he resumed his flirting with Bettie. That look made me even more angry. He was drunk after he promised me that he was clean, and he had the audacity to get angry with me for interrupting him from talking to some girl who had "crack whore practically written on her forehead?
I got up and walked past Bettie, towards the door. I didn't make it two steps before I felt a hot, callused hand grab my upper arm. It reminded me of the way Rodger had grabbed me earlier on that day, and I spun around.
"What do you think you're '" I was cut off as I saw my dad's infuriated face. His fingers dug into my upper arm enough for it to hurt.
"Just where the hell do you think you're going? he slurred out, just loud enough to be heard over the music, but not loud enough to draw attention. I noticed that Bettie was walking away, and she glanced quickly over her shoulder before busying herself with another customer. I jumped backwards, startled by the tone of his voice, but was quickly pulled back closer to my dad as his fingers dug deeper into my arm.
"I asked you a question, he said, his grip getting firmer.
I tried to squirm away, but I was brought closer to him and his hand clenched even tighter with every move I made.
"I said I asked”"
"Dad, you're hurting me! I yelled and yanked my arm away. I saw his face drop and then regain its previous anger. He moved to get up, but I turned and stormed out the door, rubbing my arm and hating myself. I should have known that there was no way he could have changed that much in two months. I was so stupid, stupid, stupid.
I walked out into the dusk air and around the side of the bar, sitting down against the side of the building, my head in my hands. I counted to ten in my head. 1¦2¦3¦I can't believe he's drunk, and damn my arm hurts¦4¦5¦6¦Well, maybe it was an honest mistake. He was probably just having a beer with an old friend. Maybe he wasn't even that drunk¦7¦8¦9¦Yeah, that's probably it. It's not like he's used to having me around, so he probably didn't know how hard he was grabbing me. Come to think of it, it wasn't even that hard at all¦.10.
* * *
Quinn pulled away from the curb and watched Anna through his rear view mirror. He wiped the tears away from his eyes with the back of his wrist and blinked until his vision was no longer blurry. The last thing he saw of her was Anna sitting down on the curb and burying her face in her hands. Seeing that in his rear view made tears prick at his eyes once again and he had to use all the strength he had left to will them not to fall.
As he drove down the road on the way to the airport, his head was swimming with the past week's events. He loved Anna, there was no denying it, and now she was gone. Quinn felt responsible, almost. He knew damned well that her dad wasn't clean, people like that didn't change, they lied. He didn't want Anna to have to deal with that, but then again, he'd warned her and it was her own fault that she chose to stay with her deadbeat dad. But the thought of him with her¦or Anna back on that park bench, sent chills down his spine, so he forced the images out of his mind.
Quinn drove down the highway in silence, his mind blank except for knowing when to exit. When the exit came he took it, and sighed. This is it. There's no turning back now. He said to himself, and resisted the urge to let those tears pick at his eyes. He shook his head back and forth, to shoo away those tears and thoughts. He pulled into the parking lot, and followed the signs that lead him to "Long Term Parking. He pulled up next to a black Mercedes and shifted into park, letting the car idle as he laid his head back against the seat. His eyes shifted to the digital clock in the dash, and saw that he had to get going if he planned to really leave. He turned the key and pulled it out of the ignition, and stored it under the seat. He wasn't worried about theft, because if anything, they'd steal the Benz. As he stood up and looked over to the passenger side, he was struck with an immediate strong sense of déjà vu. He could almost see Anna, soaked from the pouring rain, pounding on the window to let her in. He could hear himself laugh and and grudgingly unlock the doors and let her in. He could smell the soft scent of her perfume drifting off of her as she sat down in the passenger seat. The only thing that was different was the fact that as he looked over to the passenger side, he could almost see her. Almost, but she wasn't there.
He walked to the back of the car and lifted the trunk. Inside were two suitcases that held the meager possessions he intended to carry with him halfway across the country. He lifted the suitcases out set them down on the concrete, shutting the trunk. He pulled up the handle on both of them, and took one in each hand. He stole one last glance backwards at his car before turning to walk away to the terminal.
Quinn's Chuck Taylor's didn't make much noise as he walked through the empty parking garage, but he couldn't hear anything even if he wanted to over the beating of his heart. He walked out of the garage, and cringed when the bright sun fell over him. He kept walking with his head down until he could hear flights being announced over a loudspeaker system. He looked up and found himself in front of a long sidewalk, on the left was a road with a bunch of cars parked there, and on the right was at least 20 glass doors. People got in and out of cars, and walked through and into the doors. After driving for a half hour in silence, the noise and bustle threw him off and he stood there, not quite knowing what to do.
Quinn stood there, unsure of what to do for about a half a minute before something him from behind and almost knocked him over. He turned to see a man in a business suit, carrying a brief case talking on his cell phone.
"Watch it, buddy, he said, and shot a mean look over his shoulder as he passed Quinn. "No, not you Brenda, some idiot standing in the middle of the fricken¦
The jolt knocked Quinn out of his trance-like state of confusion, and got him thinking. He stepped to the side of the walkway to avoid being completely bowled over and set his things down. He dug through his pockets until he came upon two slightly crumpled tickets. He held them out in his hand, feeling a loneliness that he had never felt before. Much to his surprise, the feeling that came afterward wasn't sadness, but anger. He was mad that Anna wasn't here, not just depressed. He crumpled up her ticket and threw it to the ground. He didn't feel better though. Looking down at the crumpled ticket made him feel worse, so he kicked it out into the street and watched it fly in between tires and people's ankles until he didn't see it anymore.
Looking down at his ticket, he saw that the gate he needed to get to was Gate 43. Quinn looked up at the sign closest to him hanging down from the ceiling overhang, and read that he was at Gate 39. Further down, it read Gate 40. He picked up his stuff and started walking.
At Gate 43, he walked into the building and glanced around for the right waiting area. He found the closest one and walked up to the service desk. A pleasant looking woman stood working there. She was dressed in a blue blazer and white undershirt, and her long red hair that reminded him a little painfully of Anna was pulled back into a ponytail. He could already hear that nerve degenerating cheerfulness in her voice as she talked on the phone. He walked up to the counter and stood, leaning on it until she finished her call. As she placed the phone into its cradle, she looked up at him and smiled a million watt smile.
"How may I help you, sir? she asked him, and actually cocked her head to the right slightly, as if to accentuate the question mark at the end of her sentence.
"Uh¦Is this where the flight to New York people should be? Gate 43 or something? he asked, and her smile never faltered as she replied.
"You are in the right place, sir! And would you look at this! she said as she clicked her mouse and read something on the screen. She picked up the phone again, but pressed a different button. When she spoke into it this time her voice was amplified by 20 as she said over the loudspeaker,
"Flight 127 to New York is now boarding passengers seated in rows 1-25. I repeat, Flight 127 to New York is now boarding passengers seating in rows 1-25. Thank you. she smiled at Quinn and set the phone down. He looked at his ticket and read R10. That meant that it was his turn to board. He looked around and saw a line of people forming behind him.
"Do I give this to you? he asked, motioning with his ticket. The lady smiled and grabbed it from his hand.
"Just walk through there and you'll come out inside the plane. she said and pointed to the left. "Oh, but you haven't checked in your bags yet! Oh, well, I'm not supposed to do this, but you leave them here with me and I'll take care of them. Wouldn't want you to miss your flight! she said, and smiled another million watt smile.
"Oh thank you so much! he said, and dropped his luggage to the right of the counter. He heard the impatient grunt of a passenger behind him and took that as his sign to follow the hallway to the plane.
He walked off to the left and through a metal hallway positioned closely against the building. As he walked through it, Quinn thought he could hear the roar of the plane's engine. He rounded a corner, and his hearing hadn't deceived him. Twenty feet ahead of him was an open doorway, and inside that was a man in a captain's uniform, waiting to usher him in.
Quinn walked into the plane, and was slightly surprised by the muted atmosphere. It wasn't as loud as it was in the terminal. But everything was really a surprise, as this was the first time he'd traveled by plane. He walked down the rows of first class, and through the curtain to where he would be flying. He counted the rows as he walked down the isle 1¦2¦3¦4¦5¦6¦7¦8¦9¦and finally came across where he could sit down. He took his seat against the window in row 10, and leaned his head on the cool glass, waiting for the plane to take him to New York.
* * *
As I reached 10, I lifted my head from my hands and as the cool air hit my face, I felt better. Dad wasn't drunk, he just had a few beers and his voice sounded slurred probably because that awful music was so loud. I leaned back against the siding and sighed, debating whether or not I should go back inside. Just as I was getting up, I heard the door slam shut and someone stepping out.
"Anna? I head my dad call out. I jumped when I heard his voice. It sounded like he was only feet away from me. I heard more steps as he walked around, looking for me. I stood up and walked out from the shadows.
"Hey Dad, I said, barely above a whisper. He spun around and the anger that I had seen still adorned his face, but when he saw me, it melted away.
"I'm sorry, Baby. What's wrong? Why did you walk out? he asked, and all the anger I felt was gone.
I sighed. "It's nothing, Dad. I mean, I just thought you weren't drinking anymore.
He smiled, "Just because I have a few beers doesn't mean I'm drinking again. I'm not drunk, and I don't need it. I can have a few beers now because I can keep it under control. he said.
That made perfect sense. Even if he was a little drunk, it was probably because he hadn't drank in so long that his tolerance went down. I knew that happened, I just didn't think of it.
"Do you wanna go back inside an order somethin' to eat?
I shook my head, "No thanks, Dad. I filled up on those peanuts actually. Plus, it's been a long day, and I'd like to call it quits. If, I added, "If that's okay with you.
He smiled again. "Sure thing, Annie. I cringed. I thought he knew I hated that nick name. "I just gotta run back inside and get my keys.
I nodded and he went back inside. I walked around the parking lot and got into the car. I flipped on the overhead light to get rid of the creepy feeling I always had when it was dark. Sitting in the silence of car gave my mind room to wander, which I almost wished it didn't. I thought of Quinn. He was probably in New York by then, hundreds of miles away from me. As I sat there in that car I suddenly felt so alone that I could barely stand it. The backs of my eyes tingled with tears, and I brought my knees up to my chest, resting my feet on the dash of the car and shivered. It was far from cold outside, but that didn't stop me from feeling it. I closed my eyes and tears rolled down my cheeks. I tried to picture his eyes, those beautiful eyes, and I tired to feel his touch just once more, but I couldn't. All I was left with was an empty ache where my heart was. I never thought losing someone could be physically painful, but it was. My head hurt and my heart ached.
I sat in the position, my feet on the dash and my head resting on my knees for a long time. How long? I didn't know. When I lifted my head and opened my eyes, they were blurry. The lights used to illuminate the parking lot were yellow-orange blurs, until I rubbed my eyes. I sat up and looked around the parking lot, which was missing quite a few cars since I had last looked. I yawned and stretched my hands as far above my head as they'd go. I cringed when my pain shot through my left arm. I rolled up my sleeve and saw that the area where my dad had grabbed me was still red and there were four dark spots starting to form. I rolled my sleeve down, and looked around the parking lot again, turning to see the bar's door. As if on cue, my dad walked ' or stumbled, rather ' out. He looked around for a minute, before I realized that he probably couldn't find the car. I reached over and found the key in the ignition, so I turned it and clicked the lights on and off a few times until I saw his eyes meet mine and he started to walk over to the car.
He zigzagged across the parking lot and I could see him swear under his breath as he bumped into random cars on his path to our car. I scooted over to the driver's side of the car and started it. My dad walked around and knocked on the window. I rolled it down and was instantly greeted by the scent of whiskey. Not beer this time.
"Whatta you think yer doin'? the combination of the smell of whiskey and the slurred quality of his words made me cringe.
"Um¦Don't you think I should drive home, Dad? I asked, hesitantly. I had my hands at 10 and 2, but after seeing the look he gave me, I let them slide down to the bottom of the wheel.
He laughed and stumbled backwards, catching himself on the rolled down window. "I don't think so, sweethear'. This is my car and I'll be damned if yer gonna drive 'er! he said, and pulled open the driver's side door. "Now get out. he said. The mild humor that I heard in voice just seconds before was gone, replaced by the anger I heard when he grabbed me inside the bar. I made a move to open the door, but saw that he wasn't moving, but just staring down at me. I knew I couldn't get out with him standing there, with obviously no intent to move. I brought my knees up to my chest, becoming squished against the wheel, and slid over to the passenger seat. The door opened and my dad fell into the car. He grunted as he attempted to close the door and swing his legs in at the same time.
I reached my hand backwards and felt around for the seatbelt. When I found it, I drew it across my torso and it clicked into place. I leaned back and crossed my fingers to the side of me. There was no way he should have been driving, but I knew from years of experience that two months didn't change how stubborn someone could be.
I stopped.
If I didn't think two months could change something like stubbornness, was it possible that it couldn't be long enough to fix alcoholism? Or a drug addiction? My thoughts were interrupted as the car turned over with a jolt. My dad shifted into reverse and flew out of the parking space, missing the car behind us by an uncomfortable inch or two. He laughed and shifted into drive, the tires squealing on the pavement as he pulled out of the parking lot and on to the thankfully deserted road.