Old Wounds: Little Battles Part 10

I didn't even try to respond verbally, instead just nodding as I focused on my driving. Sophie wasn't taking very good care of herself. The instability of her blood sugar seemed to pop up more and more often. I was sure it was the drugs that made her forget to eat. I couldn't exactly bring it up to her now, though.

When we got to my house, I led her straight to the kitchen where she flung open the refrigerator door and grabbed the orange juice. I got her a gla.s.s and set it down on the island. She filled it up, gulped it down, and filled it up again.

After a few minutes, she looked better. The color came back to her face and she wasn't visibly shaking anymore.

"I th-thought d-diabetes w-was high blood sugar, b-but you k-keep eating th-things w-with a lot of c-carbohydrates."

She finished off the second gla.s.s and then rinsed it out.

"Diabetes is about high blood sugar, but I'm on insulin, so it's also about low blood sugar. If I take the same amount of insulin and don't eat, or if I eat the wrong foods, my blood sugar drops."

"W-w-why d-didn't you eat?"

Just like I figured, she said, "I guess I forgot."

"You sssssshould sssstop." She looked up at me. "F-f-ffforgetting."

She sighed, running her hands through her hair, and said, "Yeah," and then closed the dishwasher as she stood up and chewed on her lower lip. "Can we go to your room?"

"You hhhhaven't eaten yet."

"I'm okay, Elliott."

"You ssshould eat."

She sighed again, and began rummaging through our cupboards until she held out a granola bar. "Can I have this?" I nodded.

When she was finished, I was going to take her up to my bedroom like she asked, but when I pa.s.sed the grand piano, the pull proved to be too much.

"D-d-do you w-w-want to hear the Chopin p-piece now?"

"Sure," she said, sitting down on the chaise lounge that Kate used to like.

I sat down at the piano and played, hoping that she would like it and wis.h.i.+ng that I had enough courage to play her the song that ran through my head every time I thought of her.

While I played, I mused that had she not been in my life, I wouldn't have uttered a word all day. She was the only person I wanted to talk to. Now that she'd admitted to me what her mother had done, I wanted her to admit that she coped with it by using drugs, and possibly s.e.x. The thought grew in my head until it became my next goal, my next little battle to win with her.

Once we were in my room, I wanted to kiss her again, but I had no clue how to make that happen.

The thought of just going for it made me feel a little dizzy.

Her eyes were closed and she was sort of swaying. Without thinking I just blurted out the first thing that came into my head, even though I already knew the answer, because I'd asked her before.

"W-w-why d-do you get hhhigh w-when you know it's n-not good fffffor you?"

Sophie's eyes slowly opened and she let out a breath before giving me a slow smile. "Let's talk about something else."

"Liiiiike w-what?" I was so tired of being confused. I wanted whatever was going on between us to be out in the open. That way if she was going to reject me, I could get it over with. But I didn't think she was going to reject me and that was almost as bad, since she'd probably cover everything up and run, just like she always did.

"W-why can't I t-touch you?" It boiled over because I felt like I needed to know if she felt anything at all for me, or if it was just sympathy, and why she kept running.

"I told you."

I shook my head, indicating that she hadn't really told me anything other than that I shouldn't want to touch her.

Sighing heavily, she ran her hands through her hair wildly.

"Being touched is kind of...I mean, it's not...Touching is fine, but the way you do it is..." She closed her eyes again and the pain etched across her face reached out and burned me like the lash of a leather belt across my skin. "...uncomfortable," she finished in a breath.

"I-I-I d-d-do it w-wrong?"

She shook her head and seemed to fold into herself even more.

"No, it's just...why do you do this s.h.i.+t, Elliott?"

"W-w-what do I do?" I asked, wondering why she sounded so breathy.

She didn't answer me. I really wanted her to. I deserved to know if I was imagining things or if Anderson was right.

"W-w-why..."

"Why, why, why, f.u.c.king why? Why do you ask all of the questions that no one else has ever asked?"

Here was the moment I had to say it. I had to be deadly honest or everything would continue on in the same fas.h.i.+on, leaving me somewhere in-between.

"B-b-because I liiiiiike you," I said quietly. She exhaled sharply but I forged on. "I w-w-want to kn-know you." I saved the most important part for last. "I w-want you to kn-know m-mmmme."

Sophie continued to run her hands through her hair as she drew in measured and even breaths. I was still standing by my door, watching her closely, when she stood. Panic gripped me. I thought she would run for sure now, and I couldn't swallow, just as I couldn't breathe. I wanted her to stay with me just for a little while longer. I wanted her to open up and show me the little bits and pieces inside of her that had broken so long ago.

I wanted her to let me touch her face so that I could smooth away those little lines on her forehead. I wanted her to let me make her smile and shoulder just a little bit of the pain she tried so hard to mask.

I didn't understand why she held onto it so steadfastly. It wasn't fair for one person to have so much weight pressing down on her. If I could just take a little piece of it and carry it for awhile, she wouldn't need to do all of the drugs she did.

Because no matter what she told me, I knew that she'd been doing a lot more than smoking pot on a daily basis.

I was aware this girl - this broken girl whose pain too closely mirrored my own - didn't want me as a boyfriend. She'd been clear about that, but I couldn't help but want to protect her from all the bad that seemed to live inside of her. I wanted to protect her from herself; I wanted to keep her safe from the demons that had consumed my mother.

"D-don't go," I whispered, desperation clearly present in my tone.

"I can't give you anything."

I moved toward her, keeping my motions slow. I knew what it was like to feel caged and out of control of the situation, and I didn't want her to feel like that with me.

Ever.

"I don't w-want anything." The chemical exchange between us, the unspoken energy that surged and zinged, spurred me on. As awkward as it was, and as much as I thought Anderson might be right about me being a worthless loser, I had to do this.

"You don't hhhhhave t-to run aw-way from me." I was very close to her now and extremely aware of how her body was reacting. I brushed my fingers along the back of her hand. I wanted so badly to feel her comforting touch, but in this moment, I also wanted my touch to be comforting to her.

Her eyes were cast down to the floor as I took my last step, bringing my body so close that I could feel the heat off of her.

I needed her.

I needed her in a way that was foreign and uncomfortable.

I needed her in a way that would make me take chances that I would have never even thought about before.

"I w-won't hhhhhurt you," I whispered, knowing that she'd hear every minute nuance in my tone.

She gripped my fingers tighter and I could see her body visibly tense up as I raised my other hand, slowly bringing it toward her face. Sophie's breath caught, and her lips parted as my fingertips grazed her cheekbone.

I closed my eyes slowly as I concentrated on the feel of the smooth skin until I heard her gasp. I nearly jumped, my eyes immediately opening when she quickly flinched away. Her chest was heaving, her legs buckling and straightening rapidly, as she pressed her lips together, but the fact that she still let me hold her hand was not lost on me.

I felt horrible as I realized she was on the verge of tears.

"I don't like..."

When she didn't continue, I felt the need to prompt her. "You d-don't liiiiike w-what?"

Sophie lifted her face and looked me in the eye, and the pain dwelling within her was almost too much for me to stomach.

"My face. I don't like it when you touch my face. It's...uncomfortable."

"B-b-but I can t-touch your hhhhands?" It took her a moment to respond. It looked like she was deciding what her answer would be right then and there. Finally, she nodded and so I wasted no time and took her other hand.

"I-I-I d-don't liiiike to be touched either, b-b-but it's niiiiiice w-when you d-do it."

She gave me a little smile, but her body was still tense.

"I d-don't w-want you to get high ssssssso m-much, S-Sophie," I admitted quietly, hoping it wouldn't upset her.

"And I want you to beat the s.h.i.+t out of Anderson."

She always did that; threw it back to me. Eventually she sat back down and pulled me onto the couch next to her.

I broke one of my hands loose and carefully brought it up to run through her hair. It was like silk, soft and smooth between my fingers. With a gulp, she nodded. "Hhhhhide from e-e-everyone else, b-but not from mmmme."

Sophie's amazing blue eyes widened and her breath was shaky.

"I w-worry about you."

With a raspy breath, she shook her head.

"I w-won't hhhurt you," I promised again.

When I heard a sound, I realized I hadn't been looking directly at her. I'd been focusing on her lonely ear and now that I s.h.i.+fted my gaze back to her face, I could see the pain my words had caused.

I understood it.

A promise like that cut deep because she didn't believe it.

A girl like Sophie expected pain. She expected every person she met to contribute to the deep well that housed that pain.

Since my hand was already buried in her hair, I scooped it up and pulled it to one side, exposing her neck and the four tiny scars. Then I brushed my thumb over it and I felt the s.h.i.+ver that ran through her.

"I hhhhate your m-mm-mmmother."

"I shouldn't have been late." She swallowed hard as she shook her head. It felt like she was trying to get me to remove my hand, but I kept it in her hair. "I was the one who loaded the fork with the tines up. She didn't-"

"You c-can't defend hhher to m-me."

"You can't..." she began, but I swept my thumb against her scar again and she was quiet.

"D-don't hhhide from me."

Sophie took in a deep breath and let it out in measured intervals before she locked eyes with me. She still gripped my hand tightly, and as she pressed her other hand against my chest, she relaxed just slightly.

The room darkened as the fall sun set outside of my window. Faintly, I could hear David's booming voice downstairs. It was getting late and Sophie would need to eat. I wanted to take care of her, but I knew if I told her that she needed to eat, she would fight me.

Sophie s.h.i.+fted on the couch, her whole body coming to rest on top of mine. Now it was my turn to be startled when my body instantly reacted. She sat on my lap, knees to either side of my hips, her hands threaded through my hair as she buried her face in my neck. If I wasn't hard from the feel of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressing against my chest, the feel of her tongue against my skin definitely made me stiffen.

It was pretty much all I could do to keep myself from whimpering like a frightened puppy as she rocked against me. It was my breath that caught now and for as much courage as I'd thought I'd had just moments ago, it fled the moment we connected. It left rising panic in its wake.

I didn't want Sophie to know. I didn't want her to know the outright terror of my reaction. I wanted her to think that I was strong, and capable of being normal.

She moved her lips from my neck to the line of my jaw, and from there she brought them down onto mine.

The kiss felt so good, so indescribable.

But I didn't want her to know how incapable I was, so I had to get her to stop. Maybe if it was just her lips on me, and not her entire body, I could have let myself linger a little longer.

I carefully and gently encircled her wrists and pulled them from my shoulders and chest, and tilted my head away. "P-p-p-p-p-p-p..."

Her breath was warm against my cheek and it did nothing to subside the throbbing pulse in my groin.

"What?" she exhaled.

I took a moment to try and compose myself. Music flooded my mind as I tried to think of something to say to her without stammering my way through it.

"Y-your ffffather w-w-will b-be w-w-worried."

"My father?"

I nodded.

Her tongue darted out against her lower lip before she sucked it into her mouth. I almost missed the shake of her head before she kissed me again, her body s.h.i.+fting and nearly causing me pain.

"SSS-SSS-SSSophie," I tried again.