1.20: Taking Steps

Original publication date September 13, 2015

      Months have passed since I last spoke to Graham. Most days, I find myself thinking about him at the strangest, most unexpected times. I wish I could prevent the thoughts, but they come at me anyway. For instance, I get into the shower, turn on the water, and remember that night when Graham had fled into the bathroom and taken a shower after erotically licking my thigh. Another time, Bella burns some pancakes, and that reminds me of what a good cook he is. I often think about him in my history class, wondering how he’s doing and wishing he were my teacher so I could look at him.
       Wow, the amazing speed a GPA can drop amazes me, and trying to recover it is harder than I imagined. Last term, I managed to get an A in chemistry and a B in advanced algebra, but I got a C in English and abysmal F’s in history and art. How does one get an F in art?! The answer: missing so much school, not turning in most of the late assignments, and getting poor grades on the ones I did turn in. As far as history goes, I’ve never been good at memorizing dates and other details that pertain to them. They all feel so abstract whereas with chemical processes and equations, I have a more concrete sense of what’s happening. Plus, history never fails to make me think of Graham, distracting me. I don’t want to admit how I miss him. I miss being able to pick up my phone and talk to him. I miss the sound of his voice. I miss his smile. But, admitting how much I miss him would hurt too much.
      I’ve visited Nyla a few times. We never really had much of a sisterly bond anyway, so my visits are really awkward once each of us catch the other one up on what’s happened to us recently. I’ve called and talked to Mom on the phone a few times, but I don’t want to see her. Dad’s out of jail, and she’s with him.
      My therapist has tricked me a few times and got me to mention a few things that happened to me that awful morning, mostly my emotions. Although I didn’t want it, she’s helped.
      Grayson and I have slowly been becoming friends again. I can tell that Sade gets on his nerves and vice versa, but they put up with each other for my sake.

       “Brielle?” I hear Alex call out as I leave his parents’ bathroom. He walks in their bedroom with his hand behind his back.
       “Yes?” I ask, wondering what he wants and what he’s hiding. 

       I find out. He pulls a single long-stemmed rose out from behind him, presenting it to me.
       “Dad got Mom some roses, and I asked him for one before he gave them to her. Here.” He holds it out for me to take.
       I dutifully take it, unable to look him in the eyes. I put the rose in the mysterious place they disappear to at the end of this interaction. “Thank you.”
      My friendship with Alex has grown. I still consider Sade my best friend, but Alex is…different. I’d think he might feel like a brother except for the way he looks at me sometimes. He thinks I don’t notice the longing glances. 
      “You’re welcome,” he says with more emotion that what I think is necessary. He takes a step closer to me, and I’m again reminded of how much he’s changed physically in the past six months or so.

      The Maker built a basement for the Goth house, putting in a sauna, yoga stuff, and workout equipment. One afternoon, I found Alex taking a ridiculously funny selfie. He’d turned beet red while I laughed.

       All his working out has started showing results. I’d once thought he could pass for twelve, but no way could he pull that off anymore.
       “Don’t mention it,” he says, responding to my thanks. “It’s nothing but a pretty rose for a pretty lady.”
       I giggle. He looks funny trying to be suave. I guess I still have a hard time getting the gangly, awkward kid image of him out of my mind.
       “I love hearing that,” he says with an adoring look in his eyes. “You don’t laugh as much as you should. If it takes me acting a little silly to get it, it’s worth it. I meant what I said, though. You’re getting more beautiful every day that passes.”
       Whoa. That was more intense than any of the other little things he’s done in the past to make me wonder if he’s attracted to me.
       I look down at the floor and bite my lip. We stand here silently while I keep waiting for him to speak again, say something else upon which I can comment. I don’t want to say anything to encourage him, and I can’t figure out what to say to tell him I’m not as interested in him as he is in me. He reaches up to cup my cheek and pull my face up in his direction. Like many times before when he touched me in some way, most of the times in a casual manner, I have to work to keep from cringing. I still don’t like it, but I try to keep it from showing, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
       “I mean it, Brielle. We live under the same roof, yet you still manage to take my breath away simply from walking into the room.”
       Gently, I reach up to take his hand off my face. He uses the opportunity to take both my hands in his.

        His lips give a whisper of a kiss against my knuckles. My jaw drops in surprise. He’s never done something this forward before.
        Still grasping my hands, he looks at me and says, “I hope it doesn’t surprise you too much if I tell you how I’ve always truly cared about you.”
        No, I gasp in my own head. I feel like I’m drowning, fighting to find the surface of the water but not knowing which direction to go. This isn’t happening.
       He watches me closely, his eyes begging for a response.
       “I…” I take a shaking breath. “I wondered,” I manage to get out. It suddenly occurs to me how this scene looks like one his parents might play out, at least with the rose and kissing my hands. I wonder if he sees himself as the next Mortimer and me as the next Bella.
       “They’re GROOMING you, Brielle!” Graham’s voice says in my memory.
       “Don’t wonder anymore,” Alex tells me.
       I manage to free my hands, and he notices the desperation with which I do it.

       “Is this too overwhelming?” he asks with worry etched on his brow.
       “It’s… No, it’s not that. I… don’t know what to say,” I partially lie. Because I really don’t want to hurt your feelings.
       “Brielle, I realize I’m not the most attractive man in the game, but if you would just give me a chance, I’ll gladly place the world at your feet. I’ll be your devoted slave. Anything you want or need, I’ll give it to you.”
       “Alex…” I take a quick breath, and my fingers reach up to pinch my lower lip, lightly playing with it while I think. He openly stares at me, waiting patiently for me to finish what I need to say. The last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings. I like him, but it’s not the kind of like he wants.
       “Just a chance,” he speaks up quietly. “Let me have the chance to show you how much I adore you.”
       This is like something out of a movie, like the hunchback begging the beauty to look past his exterior. My thought makes my brow crease in irritation. “Why do you think you’re unattractive?”

       A sparkle of hope shows up in his eyes, and the tiniest of smiles pulls at the corners of his mouth. “You think I’m attractive?” he asks, showing just how sensitive he is about his appearance.
       I say the best thing I can think of to say, “Why wouldn’t I?”
       His smile grows. “Well, my glasses, my enormous ears, my too-frequently greasy hair to name a few.”
       I shake inside, but I hide it as I answer, “I like your glasses, your ears are cute, and your hair has gotten better, and, well, you’ve been making good use of the gym downstairs.”
       He beams at me, ‘she’s noticed!’ printed clearly on his face, and he takes another tiny step towards me.
       That went too far! I scream at myself. I took trying to make him feel better to making it sound like I’m attracted to him.
       “I’ve loved you for years now, Brielle,” he tells me passionately. Oh no! “Maybe since we were kids; I don’t know for sure. I’ve watched you struggle against the world hurting you and been virtually helpless to stop it. I want that to stop. I want to be the one you can always rely on to be there for you, to love you no matter what, to protect you, to give you your heart’s desire.”
       Twin tears fall from my eyes. That would’ve been beautiful if I returned his feelings. I wish I could give him what he wants for his sake, but-

       A little, surprised noise escapes me as Alex pulls me towards him, leans forward, and kisses me. He doesn’t act bothered by my surprise, accepting it as he gently presses his lips to mine. His hand moves up to the back of my neck to keep my head still so he can keep kissing me. And he does.
      I let out a shaky breath. The last man to kiss me was… was the a–hole ex of Nyla’s, and memories of that night fly back at me unexpectedly and unwanted. To answer my shaky breath, Alex opens my mouth and really starts kissing me.
      Holy crap! He can really kiss! Where did this come from?

      His compassionate persistence causes me to finally respond, and I tentatively kiss him back. He notices, joyfully holding me tighter. I still don’t know what this means, but I do know I like this kiss. It’s the first physical thing that’s happened to me since –then– that hasn’t made me cringe.

       I gasp for air when he moves down to kissing my neck, his lips feeling soft against my skin.
       Having caught my breath, I take in another shaky one and open my eyes. I just let Alex kiss me, and worse, I kissed him back! My backbone stiffens as the shock shoots through me. Crap! What now?!

       Alex senses my emotional shift, and he sympathetically lets me go. With a sheepish smile, he admits, “I didn’t really intend to do that when I walked up here to give you the rose. I hope that wasn’t a bad move on my part. I wonder if that was too far all at once like that. Sorry. I couldn’t stand the tears.”
     I whisper, “They were happy tears.” 
     ‘S—! Yes, let’s make this worse,’ my inner voice remarks sarcastically.
     Well, they were. Kinda. Um… No. Wait, they were tears of pity. Crap.
     ‘Exactly.’
     “I just wanted you to know how I feel,” he tells me.
     ‘Fix this!’
     “Alex… I don’t know…”
     He holds his hands up in front of him in a surrender gesture. “Stop. No need. I understand. I could… sense it when I kissed you. What happened to you still haunts you. I’m not going to push you.” He takes in a breath. “But… there was a moment when… a wonderful moment. Thank you for that.”

     He embraces me, and I force myself to hug him back. My heart sinks when I realize that the awful feeling I get any time someone touches me has come back. I only had a short reprieve, apparently.
     “It was a nice moment,” I agree with him. “But, I’m not ready…” I don’t really know how to finish.
     “It’s okay. I told you: whatever you need.”
      I need you to let go of me, I think loudly. He, thankfully, does so at that moment.
      He gives me a small smile. “I think I’ll go upstairs and read a book.”

     What am I DOING?! I don’t want a relationship with Alex.
      But I can’t deny I liked the kiss.
      But does that mean I like HIM?

     Graham knew this would happen. That’s why the Goths didn’t adopt me. They knew their son was in love with me. They put out a restraining order against Graham. I broke up with Grayson. I live under the same roof as Alex now, seeing him all the time. Mortimer and Bella probably hope, like Alex, that one day I’ll join their family in another way, and they’ve taken steps to help that along.