Page 16 of The Sun
I crawled across the bed on my knees until I was right in front of him, my pulse skipping and jumping and my mouth unable to form words.
He stared at me, and I stared at him, each of us taking shallow breath after shallow breath.
“I think I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you, and I’m certain of that, because you always know when you find what you’ve been looking for.”
We kissed for what seemed like hours until my lips ached and my eyes were heavy with sleep. I laid beside him, sweeping my fingers up and down his arm, wishing he could somehow stay. “What do we do?” I asked.
“Wait for each other.”
I swallowed.
“Three more years, we’ll be out of high school. I’ll move back here for you.”
“You promise?”
“I saved my first kiss for you, Sunny Ray. I’ll save you my first of everything.” He pulled me onto his chest.
That was a strangely satisfying feeling—lying on him like that and listening to his heart beat. And then, just like that, I was asleep.
“What in the hell?”
I sat straight up in bed when my door slammed against the wall—straight up to my daddy looming in the doorway, teeth clenched, cheeks hellfire and brimstone red.
Elias shot up, dragged his hands down his face with a groan, and mumbled “shit” beneath his breath.
“Sunny Ray Lower—” Daddy took one ominous step into my bedroom that I swear shook the floor—“what in God’s name is aboydoing in your bed?”
By this time, Momma had run to the doorway with Drew cradled in her arms, a bottle clutched in his tiny hands. When her gaze landed on Elias underneath my sheets, her face went stark white. Her mouth opened and then closed before she looked at the floor.
“Get.” Daddy took another step, and I felt Elias tense beside me. “Out.”
Elias held up his hands like he expected to block a blow. “It’s, uh.” He swallowed hard. “It’s not what it looks like, Mr. Lower. It was just that I. We. . . shit.”
The vein in Daddy’s temple bulged, throbbing with each thump of his heart. I had only seen that happen once, when Henry Watson, the town drunk, called Momma a bitch.
“Did you hear what I said, son? Get the hell outta here.”
My entire body shook, and my vision blurred. I had let my parents down, and no amount of words or sincere apologies would ever convince them Elias in my bed was much more innocent than it appeared.
“Daddy,” I whispered. “It’s not what it looks like. It’s—”
“You’re fifteen, Sunny. Fifteen!”
By now Momma sobbed in the hallway, and Simon had tottered out of his room, crying.
Daddy’s gaze cut to Elias. “And you, I’ll be speaking with your parents.”
“I don’t have any parents, sir.”
“Daddy, it’s Elias!” I shouted, and my voice trembled as I fought the urge to cry. “He just came in for one night, and I didn’t want to leave him, so I asked him to come stay. I know it was wrong, but I just wanted to see him, and I’m”—I choked on a sob. “I’m sorry.”
Momma called on Jesus before pacing the hall. Everything washed from Daddy’s face, and for a split moment, I thought he would forgive us both. I thought maybe he understood. But then, a new wave of anger tore across his face. “Get out of my house, son.” He pointed at the hall, his finger shaking. “Now!”
Elias tossed the covers off and climbed out of bed. His eyes remained trained on me while he shoved his feet into his shoes, not bothering to lace them. He stalled for a moment, gnawing at his lip.
“Son?”
