Page 65 of False Start
She trusts me.
“Come here,” I tell her. “Let me fix your hair.”
I grab a brush from the bathroom, and she sits between my legs while I get to work. She’s fidgeting, anxiously bouncing and wiping her nose on the hem of the shirt. “Idon’t think I should stay here, Harvey.” She’s a little more alert now, and probably ready for another hit.
“Mmm. That’s okay,” I reassure her.
“No, I mean?—”
“You’re staying here, Nia.” I pull on the braid, garnering her attention before I finish wrapping the strands over each other.
It had been years since I’d braided anything before her. That first braid had been a comical joke of an effort, and now, here, with a few practices under my belt, I wasn’t going to lie that I wasn’t a little proud of the smooth plait running down her back.
“Thank you.” She runs her hand over it like it’s a soothing mechanism.
“Let’s go skate.” I stand, giving her my hand.
“Are you joking? It’s nearly nine o’clock on a Tuesday night.” She laughs at me, but I don’t put my hand down.
“And who’s going to stop us?” I ask.
Biting her lip, she tries to argue, but nothing comes out when she opens her mouth. “How are we going to get in?”
“Are you telling me you don’t have a key?” I scoff, knowing damn well I have my own.
She reaches for her backpack and pulls the tiny key out of the side pocket before wiggling it in front of my face.
“Then let’s go skate.” I smirk, grabbing it from her hold.
“Wait, what is that?” She grabs my hand, and I try to pull away, but she’s already got it in her grasp, examining the red ink on the top of my hand. The tattoo of teeth.
“Is that…” A small smile curves its way over her face, and I pull my hand back. It’s been there for days but this is the first she’s noticed.
She doesn’t finish and I don’t confirm, but we both know the truth.
It’s the mark she’s left on me, and I’m going to wear it forever now.
Thisisthe Nia Lonnie wanted me to fall for, the one I get glimpses of every time she crosses one knee over the other and rounds the corner of the track. Her braid beats behind her, head chin tilted up, and her eyes are nearly closed. This moment is hers and hers alone, and I’m just privileged to get to witness it. She gets about three or four laps in before she notices I’m watching.
“Are you coming?” she shouts back at me, extending her arm my way as she passes once more.
I take her hand and let her drag me, knowing damn well it’s more effort for her this way, but if she’s not complaining, then I’m not either. She’s pulling me, skating backwards now with a giant grin on her face.
She’s fucking stunning like this, when all her feelings aren’t being masked by the drugs she’s trying to kill herself with. When she’s allowing herself to be free, to do the things she loves. She knows it too; that’s why the tears are falling from her eyes, drifting with the breeze and landing on my shirt.
We skate until she’s so worn out, she’s refusing to get up from the track. Her chest heaves up and down, and she laughs uncontrollably from sheer exhaustion. It’s almost one in the morning. She rolls to her stomach and perches up on her elbows, panting to catch her breath.
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“Which part?” I don’t know why, but I want to hear the words. From her, Ineedthem.
“The part where you’re trying to save me.” She looks ready to break again, her eyes weepy, and I know it's the comedown fucking with her mood.
I pull her into my lap, laying her head across my thighs so she can look up at my face. “The problem here, princess, is that you’re so fucking annoying with your self-esteem issues that you don’t think you’re worth saving, that I’m wasting my time on you.” I don’t wait for the nod that surely comes before I continue. “Well, get over yourself. I’m saving you for purely selfish reasons. I’m saving you because I want you forme.”
She props herself up onto her hands, some of the weight sitting on her cast. If she’s in pain, she doesn’t show it. Her eyes don’t move from mine. “You want me?”
I don’t fight the smile on my face. “Isn’t it obvious?”
