I want to know everything about you, but I don’t want you to run from me.
So if I’m pushing too much, just say your word, and I’llstop.
I’ll have you piece by piece if need be.
You’re safe with me, Leo.
I promise.
– Ev
My back teeth ache as I grind them relentlessly, trying to hold back tears that threaten to fall.
Safe? I don’t even know what safe feels like. Already, he seems to know me better than anyone. Like he can read my heart, my soul, my fears. He can see the part of me that wants to reach out, to scream, to let go, to give in, to make connections. But he also sees the part of me that is ready to bolt, to run, to grieve the loss of ever having someone to trust, to love, to be loved by.
Phoenix.
This is also me using it.
– Leo
It’s been two weeks since I gave Everett my safe word. At the time, I didn't know what to say, but that was the first word that popped into my head. I draw them all the time, little doodles of feathers on fire and sometimes the phoenix taking flight. I guess I am hoping that one day, all the shit I’ve been through will give rise to someone better.
Despite agreeing to pass notes, I have avoided Everett as much as possible. I was afraid he would ask me again about the cut on my cheek that is now very much healed. Lucky for me, I only see him in the morning for class. We keep our verbal conversations related to classwork, but our notes are opening doors I never thought would open. Somehow, writing it all out makes it feel less invasive but still very much real.
We pass our notes back and forth during class, getting to know each other through the ink on the pages, not our voices. With each note passed, I feel my resolve breaking. He is infiltrating my heart little by little, and that is both terrifying and relieving.
He now knows my favorite color—brown—and I know his—blue.
He now knows I love to draw. And I know that he loves to cook.
He now knows that I am an only child. And so is he.
He now knows that I hate decaf coffee. And I know that he wants to own a restaurant.
He knows that I never learned to drive. And I know that he loves dogs.
In two weeks, he has learned more about me than anyone else ever has in my entire life. Even more than Ski.
When he asked about my parents, I used phoenix, and true to his word, he left it alone. He followed up with a question about the band on my T-shirt, Nirvana. I had to admit to him that I’ve never actually listened to them but that I liked the design.
Each morning of late, I have woken with a smile on my face, and it's all because of him. Our notes, our glances, our smiles back and forth… They are my breadcrumbs. Small saving graces leading me out of the darkness and into the light. But I can’t help but wonder when he will tire of me. When will he see that his chase is exhausting and pointless because I am not worth it?
Reading over his latest note left in my locker, I feel my heart-wings fluttering, but that flutter soon turns on me.
I hear her before I see her, the overpriced designer heels she always wears echoing down the long narrow hallway.
Natasha Baldwin.
She is my polar opposite. She is tall and skinny. Her long, tan legs are muscular but feminine from cheerleading. Her long blonde hairis always perfectly straight and flows down her back without tangles or mess. She doesn’t walk with her head down. No, she walks with it held high, looking down on others as she stalks toward me.
My eyes can’t help but be drawn to her. She is in a short pleated skirt and a tight white button-up that could use one more button. Her cleavage looks like it's about to make a great escape, although that was probably the point.
“What do you think you’re doing with Everett?” She encroaches on my space, and I am forced to back up a little. Her lavender and coconut scent washes over me.
“Nothing. We are lab partners.” Even saying that makes my chest hurt because I know in the fabric of my being we are more than that.
“Don’t think you could ever have him. He wouldn’t waste his time on a girl like you. You don’t belong with him. In fact, you don’t belong anywhere, do you?”
