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12
We're at the cemetery again, Rhys and I. It seems we're always here, him more so now than he was before. He's around a lot, actually. I'm scared to admit what that means to my lonely, desperate heart. It's dangerous for him to give someone like me so much attention, simply because I don't know if I could ever survive again without it. I certainly don't love Rhys; if I'm being honest, I'm not sure I'm capable of that simple four letter word, but I need him. In many ways, needing something, in the desperate, chaotic way that I need, is more powerful.
I need the intimacy he offers, no matter how cruel and twisted. I need the comfort he provides by not leaving me alone. I need to feel wanted in the same way he makes me feel it. He gives me a sense of purpose again. A sense of self-worth. I realize how shallow that may sound to most; the idea that I need this wicked strange man to feel worthy, the same man who fucks for his own pleasure, smiles at my pain, and slings insults more times than compliments. But when you're used to living in the pits of your own dark soul and have been taught by life that you're worth is based on how others see you, you simply don't care how shallow the situation is. Because at least one person, no matter how vile, mean, or cruel, finds you worthy.
Standing from my usual spot at Nana's grave, I look down at Rhys. Something about him feels off from the last time I saw him. I couldn't say why because he hasn't necessarily acted any different than usual, it just seems to be something I know. I can almost feel it. My mood stone has been swirling between brown and periwinkle like it can't make up its mind. Grabbing my backpack, I put a strap over my shoulder, "You hungry?"
Rhys's teeth slide along his lower lip at my question, eyes working their way from my worn sneakers, slowly up to my face. "I might be."
I don't need to look at my mood stone to know it's turned dark pink at his tone. I don't think he's referring to the same type of hunger as I am. "For food, Rhys. Do you want to get something to eat?"
A loud breath blows from his lips, baby blues rolling as he stands. I watch as he steps up to my chest, his thumb swiping over my lower lip, roughly grating it against my teeth before his hand drops from me. "I'll go with you if that's what you're asking."
"It is." I want him to kiss me, even if it's just with his teeth. But I don't want to ask, so I turn away from him instead, squishing a dandelion into the grass as I start to walk away.
I’m jerked backward by my backpack, feet stumbling over themselves as I try to regain my footing. Bright blond hair and cornflower eyes drop into view as my face is yanked to face the sky by my short ponytail. "If you want a kiss, Hadley, all you have to do is ask."
His lips land on mine in the next breath, top teeth lightly scraping against my lower lip as he kisses me. The angle hurts my neck and back, but I don't fight it, my right hand rising to touch him. He pushes me away before my fingers make contact, the tips just brushing along a few wild strands. I stumble forward, and he chuckles as he passes me. I don't know how he knew I wanted a kiss, I didn't think I'd been that obnoxiously obvious, but I have zero complaints.
I follow after him, intermittently watching his back as we walk. He glances over his shoulder at me, "Where are we going?"
I shrug even though he's already facing forward and can't see it. "The diner on fifth avenue?"
"Are you asking me or saying that's where you want to go?" He pulls a cigarette from his pocket, and I look over as we pass a couple placing flowers on a tombstone.
Smoke blows behind his head to tease my nostrils. "That's where we're going."
Following the orders of the 'Seat Yourself' sign, we find a spot in the back of the diner at the very end of the submarine shaped space. Everything is very stereotypically decorated; yellow and red seats and tables, striped uniforms, and an open kitchen. It's old fashioned and maybe a little disgusting if you look too closely at things, but the atmosphere is homey. Grabbing a 'daily specials' menu from between the ketchup and mustard bottles, I peek at Rhys over the laminated edge. I'm guessing since it's laminated, the daily specials are the same every day.
"Are you going to look at the menu or keep being a weirdo?" His eyes find mine as he settles back in his seat, and I purse my lips. He wasn't even looking at me.
A waitress walks by, arms full with two trays of food, and a wide smile cast our way, "One minute honey, and I'll be right with you."
I offer her a small smile, turning my attention back to the menu. Dinner decided, I slip it back between its spot by the condiments. "Are you not getting anything?"
Rhys shakes his head, fingers tapping on the back of the booth. "I'm going to smoke." He slips from the booth as I watch him, my heart picking up just the slightest bit at the thought that he might be ditching me. It shouldn't matter, but it does. His hand reaches out to chuck under my chin, the straight line of his teeth peeking from between his lips, "I'll be right back."
The touch was hardly sweet, but my chin chases after his fingers as he pulls them away. "Okay." Twisting in my seat, I watch him walk out the door, can just barely see him standing on the other side of it.
Turning back around, my hands twist in my lap as I wait for the waitress to come back. Looking out the window to my right, my reflection stares back at me. Raising a hand, I smooth a few flyaways that have managed to escape my pony, pull the sleeves of my hoodie over my palms when I look away. The waitress from before pops in front of the table with a glass of water that is set in front of me, and I return the smile she gives me.
"What can I get you, honey?" Her pen is ready at her notepad, pretty brown eyes shifting to look at another booth when someone raises their hand.
"Uh, can I get the club sandwich?"
"Sure, what kind of side do you want? Chips or fries?" Her eyes bounce between my face and the notepad.
"Fries, please."
"Got it. Anything else? Something besides water?"
My eyes shift from her to look out the front door where I last saw Rhys. "Water is fine, but can you bring another glass?"
She nods, tucking her pen, and notepad into the apron wrapped around her waist. "Of course, is someone meeting you? I can hold onto your order until they get here."
Frowning, I shake my head at her. "No, he's already here. He's just outside.",
"Oh! I didn't see anyone here with you, but I'm running on two hours of sleep, so that could explain it. Sorry, honey. I'll get your food out for you and get that water brought over."
