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Rubi
I’M WARM ANDI feel safe. Safer than I have ever felt before, and then I remember the pool. Did I die? Am I dreaming? My body feels like it is on a cloud, and when my eyes open, I see the face that has haunted my dreams. The face that I want to see up close in slumber, but somehow is so far out my reach when I’m awake. I look at the window and see the sun is already up. It is still early because I don’t hear voices or footsteps coming from the hallway.
I must be dreaming. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and open them again. His face is still there, and then I look down to where my body is snuggled up against his, and then I realize that this isn’t a dream. It’s real, and I’m in bed with Ky. I turn and look at my door I know I locked because I checked it three times after I ran into my room.
I didn’t even stop to see the cake Caroline got for me because I was so upset. After I removed the wet clothes that were plastered on my skin, I grabbed an old t-shirt and pulled it over my head and then I ran inside the closet with Hope and cried myself to sleep, wishing I could forget that any of it had ever happened. My eyes find my phone on the nightstand with a piece of paper next to it.
I look over at Ky and he is still sound asleep. I reach for the paper to see what it says.
I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t know they would do that or that you couldn’t swim. I would never hurt you like that, Rubi. I will hold you if you allow it, I will dry your tears and replace all the years of your pain. I will make up for everything I did or said that caused you to cry. I’m sorry, Rubi. Please, let me be with you.
Ps: That dickface Cesar was right. You are beautiful, but what he doesn’t know is that you are my flower, Rubi, and I am your earth. We have always belonged together.
Ky
I read the letter over and over. I read it at least six times. I don’t know what to do or say. Ky is…Ky. He is moody, and I should be kicking him out and screaming at him, but I can’t. I turn around and give him my back, trying to make sense of his written apology. He has done so much to hurt me. But I don’t think many people get to hear words of apology from him, especially written on paper.
I can hear his steady breathing behind me, and I stare at the wall feeling numb. I don’t want to see anyone at school. I don’t want to hear the whispers or the names they will call me. I shouldn’t care about any of them, but it reminds me of him. I don’t care what they think of me. It is the reminder that it happened. When the memories play in my head like a loop, all I can hear is his voice. I smell the scent of death in the air, and I can feel the dirty matted carpet under my knees.
I tense when I feel warm fingers on my lower back. I can feel Tyler’s shirt pull up and over my raised skin. I overheard Tyler screaming at him. He was shouting at Ky, and I think he was just staring at him with silent tears running down his cheeks, listening. He was listening to what I feared. Now it made sense why Tyler was being so nice to me, because he knew almost all my secrets.
When my shirt is past the middle of my back, I can feel his fingers unsnap my bra. It gives way, and I remain still. He wants to see. He wants to see the scars of my pain. The ones that I wear permanently as a reminder of my time with him. The many scars I will wear on my skin for the rest of my life, for him. Everyone thought I made up the story about the boy I would go and visit. The one who meant everything to me.
But I kept the biggest secret of all from him, that I was beaten almost every time I went to spend time with him. To see his smile and for him to look at me with those dark eyes silently telling me that I was his heaven.
Being with him felt right.
It felt like I belonged with him.
It was perfect.
We were perfect, because nothing mattered, and it was just us under the sun sharing things we wanted to know about each other. Not the ugly things, but the things we liked. The things that mattered to us the most. Each other.
It was magic.
We were magic.
When I would fall asleep, I wished to the stars that I could do it all over again. I wished to the moon to give me one more day. Every night I wished for one more day with him.
His fingers slide over the raised skin. He traces each scar with the pads of his fingers and then I hear it. The sound of him crying. I never thought I would ever hear him cry. I didn’t think guys cried.
But Ky does.
He cries, and I’m not sure he has ever cried, but right now he is sobbing.
For me.
It doesn’t mean I will just forgive him, but I’ll let him see it just this once. I’ll let him see the scars of my pain. The reminder of my scars that are seared onto my skin and tethered to my inner soul. The proof that I have cried tears of pain that burned down my cheeks all for him.
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him in a spoon position. He is soft and gentle and places kisses all over my back while he traces his finger over the tattoos of the daisies on my arm. I don’t hide it from him. I don’t have a Band-Aid to place over it or a marker to cover the two letters written in bold letters over my forearm.
If the scars of my past aren’t enough to prove to him how important he was to me, the tattoo that’s a permanent part of my skin will.
Two letters that mean more than anything to me, and now he has seen proof of my secret. He has seen each and every one of them.
KY
After a while, I can hear footsteps in the hallway, probably Tyler getting up. It means his time is almost up before someone knocks on my door to see how I’m doing. I turn around on the bed to tell him he needs to leave, but when my eyes find his, they caress my face like a total embrace. Two black diamonds, glassy from sleep, watching me like they’re full of moments from a story book read to me at night
