It's NothingA Story by Anonymous Me
My ability to understand perspective sickens me sometimes
“Where are you going?” he asked, focusing hard to make his word come out smooth and casual. She looked over at him in a way that made it evident that she had heard the effort in his voice and smiled a smile tat lit up her tanned features first and then cast a glow behind her, illuminating the rest of the world. Somehow, Chris found a way to stay dark. She reached out a hand and rested a soft palm against his cheek in an overly endearing way, mistrusting that he would take the gesture lightly.
“I just gotta pee, Sweetheart. Don’t miss me too much,” she jokingly said, offering up a laugh that spilled out of her lips like the sweetest honey. She stood slowly, tucking her hair behind her ears and shuffling through an assortment of lab reports and scientific evaluations in an effort to locate her bathroom pass. Chris reached out a hand to slip it into view, slyly placing it into her line of vision without her noticing. That was something he loved about her"How she could get so lost in the simplest of moments that the whole world and all its complexity would cease to exist for her, not excluding Chris. It often left him feeling embittered unimportant. But in all honesty, he envied her for it. And he envied a lot of other things involving her, too. She smiled inventively once she finally noticed the green slip of paper, folded it and tucked it into her bra. She very rarely got stopped by any of the campus patrol. She had the sort of innocence that no one could find the heart to argue with.
She stood and shrugged into her boyfriend’s oversized letterman jacket and Chris watched as it swallowed her whole. He felt nearly asphyxiated by the jealousy that suddenly solidified inside of him. She took one look at him and saw the pain that he couldn’t hide anymore, and then looked out the window as she slipped out of the jackets hold and said something about it not being that cold out anyhow. It was a lie, Chris knew. But he was thankful for it, even as he watched her rubbing her upper arms for warmth.
“I’ll go with you,” Chris said, knowing that he shouldn’t but standing beside her even so. They left the classroom, silencing the overactive laughter of the other students as the door closed behind them. She looked around at the bland hallway and walked on the speckled linoleum with the kind of grace and weight of someone dancing on a cloud. Chris looked down at his sneakers when he walked, feeling the weight of the entire world on his shoulders and the strength of it coiled around his neck.
“How’s Jessica?” she asked. The sound of his daughters name made him flinch and he pretended that he hadn’t heard her, trying hard to ignore the hurt look that flashed across her face at being ignored by him. She did not push him, though. She looked straight ahead and hummed as she strode, leading them to the one co-ed restroom on campus. It was a longer walk to a more secluded area, but there were less germs.
Chris waited alone in the dimly lit hallway outside until he heard the thunderous flush of the toilet and the stirring flow of the tap. He counted to fifty-five before he heard the rush of the water go silent and then fixed his gaze on the door handle as it turned beneath the pressure of her clean hands on the other side. She emerged with a soft smile and, with a swiftness that startled them both of them, he pinned her against the door. Chris heard the beginnings of a scream that she smothered herself.
“Shhhhh…” he hushed, knowing that there was no need. An inferno of fear lit up her eyes and tears tried desperately to quench the fire’s ravenous thirst. He hated himself for putting that emotion inside of her, but his mind was clouded by the smoke of the moment and he was already too far in to stop. He held his forearm in the graceful curve of her neck, lifting her up and off of her toes with his force. She raised her chin up and away from him in an effort to gather air into her lungs through the short, alarming, breaths that he allowed her to take in. Her lips pursed and released in the air, mouthing protests that she could not give voice to. He let his free hand travel over her body and beneath her clothes, pushing past the hesitation when it reached the nape of her torso and letting impulse guide it lower to unspeakable places.
“Stop,” she rasped. “Please, stop.”
The sound of hr weak voice stilled his hand and he pulled back in a shameful fear. She dropped to the ground, crumbling down before his eyes to levels that he hadn’t thought possible for her. She rose slowly and stared at him with an unearthly amount of disappointment harnessed in her gaze, adjusting her clothing.
“Chris,” she tried, the taste and feel of his name on her lips sent fresh tears springing into her eyes.
“Shhhhh…” he said, opening his arms in apology. She wrapped her own arms around her in a tardy act of self preservation and stared at his as if he had extended a knife in threat instead of the arms she used to run to. When she raised her eyes to meet his, the light in them had dulled into the dark depths of an abyss and her ever-present smile had diminished. All of the things he loved about her, he could tell he had destroyed. For the first time since they had met, she turned her back on him and walked out of the hallway letting the white light of the clouds wash over her. They gave her the eerie light of a painful secret conspicuously hidden.
Chris followed quietly behind her, knowing that she would not be able to look at him and he would not be able to look at her. He knew that he didn’t deserve it anyhow. He knew she was hurting, blaming herself for inexplicable reasons, mulling over the situation, wondering what she had done wrong, what she should have done different.
A few feet ahead, he saw the angering figure of the boy that she loved. Chris watched as her head lifted in recognition and her shoulders relaxed just the slightest bit. She uncoiled her arms from around her and ran to him, her arms flinging frantically in an almost comical fashion. She sank into him and held on tight, clutching at the fabric of his sweatshirt and silently breathing in his scent.
“It’s good to see you, too,” her boyfriend said with a light chuckle to his voice, lacing his arms around her gently to hold her back. She still said nothing, burrowing her face into his chest for the sort of protection that she used to look for Chris for.
“You okay?” he asked, pulling away and holding her at arms length so that he would be able to see her face and gauge her emotions. Chris stood as an awkward shadow a few feet away from their melded figures, watching as her head bobbed in a nod and she swallowed back a sob, knowing that if she spoke her body would unleash a torrential downpour of tears that she couldn’t risk letting him see.
“Baby, you’re crying,” he observed. Chris flinched at the affirmation of the knowledge of what he had done to her. To his best friend. To the girl that he couldn’t help but love. He watched as she shook her head and gave him a sad laughing smile, trying desperately to hold on to the strong demeanor she carried with her like a security blanket.
“What happened, Baby?” he asked, still holding her at arms length, rendering her incapable of avoiding him or the question. For one split second, he took his eyes off of her and raised them to the place that Chris stood. He looked down shamefully and shuffled his feet, pocketing his filthy hands to cover their sins.
“Nothing.” She whispered trying to soothe the impact of the lie with a quiet voice.
“It’s not nothing,” her boyfriend pressed, wiping away a stray tear.
“It’s nothing, Baby,” she said again, raising a hand to cup his face and instill faith in the lie that Chris knew it killed her to tell. Right then, Chris wanted to cry, too. The knowledge that she would still try to protect him split his heart into a thousand pieces. He watched as her boyfriend pressed her back to his chest in disbelief and clutched her to him, holding her tight and long. He stared suspiciously over her head at Chris who couldn’t hide his guilt as well as she had been able to.
© 2012 Anonymous Me
Abouti have a lot of things to write here but none that I feel that you really need to know. I guess i can tell you that i love to write. It's the only time when i am truly forthcoming. I've been told that.. more..