Page 34 of Trusting Skulls

My arms move at an unusually slow pace. My extremities feel weighed down by a heaviness that can’t be seen. When I’m upright, he lays the book between us, and then he offers me the box of crayons.

It’s not the book I threw at Dirk. This one has a blank page. A Disney princess stares back at me. His silent nod orders me to get busy. The second my crayon touches the paper, he begins to speak calmly as if he’s approaching a wild animal.

“Each color you choose represents someone who’s touched you intimately.”

The tip of the crayon breaks off under the pressure of my hand. The deep purple smudge it leaves makes my stomach turn. My first …

His icy eyes trail me as I walk around the pool. They’re warm against my cool skin. I jump into the water with no hesitation, coming up to find them still lingering on me.

My dad’s boss brushes his hands down the front of his dress pants.

I like his eyes on me.

He glances at my parents, his brows pulling together that neither of them noticed me just traipse through the house in a barely-there bikini. His eyes bounce between me and them a few times until finally they remain on me.

I’ll admit his attention frightens me a little, but it also feeds the loneliness that lives inside me.

I adjust my top. The suit was a birthday present from my parents. They don’t know that. They never ask to see the gifts they pay for. They did have a cake delivered. It’s still sitting untouched on the kitchen table two months later.

I raise my eyes, finding his hooded gaze still on me. My anxious fingers continue to blindly fumble with my swimsuit. What I’m doing feels wrong, but his attention feels so good.

I’m certain he hasn’t heard a word of what my father is saying as I wrap a towel around myself and head inside, walking past them. Since he’s still watching me, I give him a small wave in greeting. When he smiles in return, my heart skips a beat.

Again, neither of my parents even notice me.

Before I slip down the hallway, his deep voice glides across the room, wrapping around my ankles and halting my footsteps. “I’m jealous of your pool,” he tells my parents. “I’ve always wanted one.”

“You’re free to use it anytime you want. Just let me know, and I’ll have Lexie let you in,” my father says without hesitation. His nose is so far up his boss’s ass.

I glance over my shoulder realizing I may have pushed my “show” a little too far. Without fear, he winks at me right in front of my parents.

He’s just flirting with me. He’s not seriously interested. The man has a hot wife. There’s no way he wants my gangly ass. I’m delusional.

Two days later I found out I was, in fact, not delusional. He didn’t seem to mind I was an awkward inexperienced teenager. In fact, he seemed to like teaching me new things.

I stare at the image in front of me. It looks like a toddler colored it. It’s definitely outside the lines.

Raffe points to the pile of crayons. “Next.”

I roll my eyes, but I move on to number two. The guy I chased to ease the loneliness of losing what I thought was my first love. After the third crayon, things start to become fuzzy. Sometimes I remember the guy’s name, but not their face. Sometimes it’s the other way around. A couple of times I remember nothing. Noname. No face. Only the burning feeling the next morning when I would pee. I think those were the nights I passed out.

It becomes too much … with each color, the heavier my limbs become.

“I’m so stupid,” I choke out on a sob, curling up into a little ball.

Raffe places his hand at the back of my head. “No, Lexie. You may have done stupid things, but you yourself are not stupid.”

“There’s nothing left for Ash. If I had known I’d meet someone like him, I would’ve waited.” But I can’t take any of it back. Their fingerprints have permanently stained me.

I can’t blame anyone but myself. I gave every piece of me away. No one has been more cruel or reckless with my body than me.

When I finally settle myself, he removes his hand from my head and then tips my chin. He holds the page I colored in front of my face. “Here’s a new way of looking at this. You’ve had a lot of colorful experiences. It doesn’t matter if they were good or bad. Wrong or right. They are yours.”

He pauses as his soulful brown eyes bore into mine.

“Life is an endless continuation of lessons. You’ll pass as long as you don’t give up.”

His hands cover my ears, and he shakes my head gently but firmly. “Please don’t give up. I’m proof you can keep going and make a better life for yourself.”

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