Page 32 of A Heart So Haunted
“Just real quick,” he said. “Is it wrong to kiss you?”
I looked back down. Wrapped a hand around his wrist. “It’s not that.” Tugged.
With a sigh, he pulled his hand from my shirt, the other still hovering at the waist of my shorts. He knelt, close enough for me to smell the peppermint on his shirt and the faint hint of sweat from the humidity.
“What is it?” he pressed.
“My aunt is here,” I said. This wasn’t what I’d wanted to do. I wanted to talk to him,reallytalk to him, because we never had time alone. This was supposed to be that moment.
“No, she’s not,” he said. “She left with your mom. Do you really care what they think? They don’t have to know.” His eyes were blue. So, so blue, I wanted to drown in them, and I didn’t want anyone to save me. “Only I will. It’s okay. We don’t have much time, anyway.”
He scooted closer, on his knees in front of me, and we sat eye level. Both his arms blocked me in, so the only way out was if I fell backward on the bench. And even then, there was a wall.
Suddenly the sunroom felt small, secluded, the plants too far-reaching and the ceiling too high.
“I know,” I whispered. He was right. Wouldn’t any girl want this opportunity?
“Then what’s stopping you?”
A slow creeping feeling started up the base of my spine. “I just … wanted to talk to you a bit. About some things.”
His expression remained neutral, his eyes on my mouth. “Like what?”
Distracted. I was distracting him by talking because he wasn’t listening, only watching. But maybe if I told him—maybe he would listen. Maybe it would hit his emotions, and he’d help me.
“I’ve been having thoughts,” I whispered. Pressure started at the back of my neck and trickled down my spine.
He leaned in. Our noses nearly touching. The tendons in his neck strained. Football and track and wrestling. He would know what to do, he would know how to help me. I helped him in school, he could help me with this. “About?”
My heart stuttered, near to bursting. My pulse felt so far up my throat, it could have hopped out of my mouth.
He would know what to do. He cared. He cared about me.
“About … things.”
“Be more specific, Lan. Is this about that project? I told you I wouldn’t tell Monovan I used your notes. You’re good.” His words whispered against my lips. Seconds, before I lost him.
“I’ve been feeling out of control with things.” Mom and her using. Dad being gone.
Better not let that boy get to you, Mom snarled a few days before.You’ll end up pregnant and alone, just likeme. Keep your legs closed, Lan, or I swear on my dead momma—
That’s not nice, had been my weak retort.
Would it killyouto beniceonce in a while?she’d shot back.
I bit my tongue. Tears seared my eyes, my nose, blurring my vision until the colors muted.
Ivan stopped. His jaw clicked. “Huh?” The word fell just soft enough, like he might be worried about me, that I pushed forward.
“So I’ve been—compensating.” My fingers trailed to my forearm. I picked at a spot, that same spot, which had just scabbed over. Exhaled at the small bite of pain. Everyone always said to talk to people. That you would be brave in telling someone those thoughts. To get help.
Ivan was the only one left that could help me.
“With … food,” I whispered. “And other things.” I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t give it that power. If I said it, it was real. This was as close as I could get.
Ivan’s jaw worked, throat bobbed. “You mean, like, because you’re a rail?”
My mouth went dry. The thundering in my ears morphed to a roar. “What?”
