His hands travel over my body and I feel his warm breath by my neck. It makes me sick and all I want to do is scream. I want to get out of here, but he's too strong, he can hold me in place with one hand.
"God, you are perfect, so beautiful." I want to vomit. I want to cry, but just like always, it seems like I'm being numbed. I can't move my arms and legs. This is not real, this is not real. It will be over in a minute. This is not happening to you, you are watching a movie. My eyes open again when I feel severe pain and then I scream.
----
I shoot up sweaty and with a scream. My throat feels raw. Was I screaming the whole time? I press my back against my headboard, I'm still wearing all my clothes, I apparently forget to take them off, but that's not on my mind right now. My breathing quickens and the walls are coming at me. Gasping for breath, I fall off my bed, struggling to get up to step into the hallway. I need air.
I take a deep breath and force myself to move forward, find my way to the stairs. Just a little more. Stumbling and stumbling, I manage to drag myself forward leaning against the wall to find the stairs. I stumble down the steps and fall against the front door.
I'm at the point where I almost can't breathe anymore and my panic attack takes over everything. My thoughts, my movements. It takes so much effort for me to get myself into the porch seat.
We have a porch in front of our house and behind our house and the front porch is much more windy, which is what I need right now.
My head falls into my hands and I try to remember my psychologist's exercises. 5 Things. What were they? Black dots appear in the corners of my eyes. Come on.
I can smell the asphalt, that's recovering from the sun. I can feel the cold wooden chair under my legs, I hear crickets and the wind gently pulling at the leaves, I taste the beer I drank a few hours ago, it makes me a little sick to be honest, I see our driveway and my black truck, which Jay parked. Jay. As if I just popped some pills the panic subsides and the more I think about Jay the faster it goes.
When I regain my breathing and I'm no longer light-headed, I let the tears fall. The tears that I haven't let go in a long time, that I have gushed up and I know my shrink said that it's bad, I have to throw it out once in a while, but I feel weak when I cry. As if it is still clear to me what happened and that it does something to me. That it still affects me in so many ways.
I don't cry ugly, they are mostly silent tears, but there are many, there will be no stop. So I just let it happen, maybe I will cry myself to sleep, I know I won't sleep tonight, not if I'm just going to lay there, looking up at the ceiling hoping that the sleep will take me, no, that won't happen with these pictures in my head. His face just keeps appearing in my mind and I can't push him away. I feel panic rising again but I know how to shake it off, no way that I will have a panic attack twice.
The hairs in my neck shoot up, I don't know how, but I get the feeling that someone is coming. As soon as I can, I wipe my cheeks, eyes, and chin to get the tears away and rub my temples where a headache is slowly starting to form.
A figure appears in the doorway that I apparently left open. Nothing is said so I look aside. Jay stares at me, there is a worried frown on her face and she is holding two cups of tea.
"Are you okay?" Shit she either heard or seen me and I don't like either choice. She doesn't wait for my answer and sits next to me.
"I'm fine," I mumble, I already hate this headache. I take a mug from her and take a sip. Would she really have seen me? I'm staring at the mug in my hands, it's been a while since I've even touched, let alone drank any tea.
"I heard you scream," she begins gently. I close my eyes. Fuck. I was already afraid of this.
"Bad dream, shit happens." I'm trying to pretend it doesn't matter. Get the hint.
"Talking helps." I know she won't stop asking questions until I give her a good answer, so I pause. I'm not sure what to tell her. The advantage is that she also keeps her mouth shut, which makes it less likely that I will eventually decide not to say anything.
"Just a bad dream about someone who hurted me in the past. He's caused a lot of shit." I get out with difficulty. More than pain. Sadness, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD.
"I know it's okay to -" She stops when I hold up my hand to her. Firstly, when I talk about it I'm afraid that this time I will not be able to stop my panic attack, secondly, I will only tell my shrink and thirdly, I am not going to do this for her, I do not want to collapse before her very eyes. "Charlie..."
"It's nothing, I just need to calm down, that's all," I lie, even though I can tell that she sees through the lie, that she knows better.
She sighs and taps the glass with her fingers. "It's calming tea." She speaks a little softer again. "I used my grandmother's recipe." I follow her lead and take a sip. We sit in silence for a moment. Drink the tea and stare at the house opposite of us.
I sit back, considering whether to ask. I take a deep breath and take the last sip of the tea. "Why did you lie about Harvard?"
"What?" She looks at me quizzically, probably surprised that I remembered it.
"Thursday, why did you lie about Harvard?" I look into her eyes. "I guess you don't want to go there just to play baseball."
Jay pauses for a moment, she puts down her mug and then folds her hands together. "Because it is partly true." When I raise my eyebrow to her, she continues. "Because no one believes in me." That answer keeps me silent.
"Jay, why do you want to go to Harvard?" She looks up into my eyes.
"I've wanted to be a lawyer for most of my life, Harvard is one of the best law schools." I don't have to ask the question, because she already knows it. "My uncle is a lawyer, he used to teach me everything about the job. As a little girl, I sat next to him, saw how he worked, and read in the newspaper that he got a man released, who had fierce accusations behind his name. I want to be that kind of person, I want to do good things in life, make sure people get the punishment they deserve and keep people who are innocent out of trouble."
I didn't expect her to get so deep into her answer, why would she tell me that? Maybe that tea will do more than just make you tired. "I want to matter in this society." You already do. I quickly swallow those thoughts and look away.
"Jay Miller, pleads innocence for two boys suspected of murder." I look at her when I say that and see a smile appear on her lips. "I can picture it." I smile back. "After appearing in the newspapers all over the world as a star player in the MLB."
"That's a dream that will never come true." Still, her smile grows bigger. "And you?" Her eyes fall on me again. "What do you want to do?"
"I'm going to be homeless." I grin when she shoves me with a smile. "No, I want to become a psychologist." You would think, why? It's confronting, I know, but I wouldn't want to do anything else. "My mom is a psychologist." I give that as the only reason, while there is much more to it.
"Mmm." Jay looks at me. "So Dr. Davis, how broken am I." I frown at her when she says that. What?
I fold my hands together. "If I can believe my senses, you're not that broken." Especially compared to me.
"Good to hear." She grins and leans forward to pick up her mug from the floor, only running her hand over the rest of the chair, shit, Keith hasn't smoothed the wood yet. She curses and withdraws her hand. I can immediately see the damage, a splinter. I can't help myself when I see her face, I just laugh.
"Charlie," she insults and pushes me. "This hurts."
I managed to get myself together and get up. "Come on, we're going to pull it out." I take her good hand and pull her in the house after me.
Like last time, it feels just as good when her hand is in mine. I pull her into the kitchen behind me and as I search for the first-aid kit, Jay jumps on the counter, already trying to pull the splinter out with her fingers.
"Stop that before you push it all the way in." I take her good hand and pull it away from the splinter.
She sighs. "Come on."
After a few minutes of searching, I grab the tweezer and lean towards her hand. "Don't move."
"Don't you dare pull without saying anything," she squeaks when I get a hold of the splinter.
"I'm counting to three," I lied.
"Yes, bye I know that one, then you will pull on 2." I gently pull back the tweezers and the splinter comes out. "And then in a fright I pull my hand away and the splinter is deeper in my hand."
"Jay," I say dryly. "Jay shut up and look at the tweezer." Her mouth stays barely shut when I show the splinter. I smile and throw the splinter in the trash can. What I don't realize now is that she makes me forget everything, I forget that I had another panic attack after months and that I saw his face again. I forget it all.
"Why aren't you always like this?" I hear her ask, laughing.
I look up, try to stop laughing when I look at her. "Like what?"
Jay shrugs. "Normally you have so many walls built around yourself and I don't understand why, isn't it nice to laugh?" I look away from her eyes and grab a band-aid to put over the wound on her hand. "You don't have to put on a mask." She says the last part is softer, our eyes hold each other and once in my life I don't feel like I have to lie or change the subject.
So I answer honestly. "It's no use lowering the walls and taking off my mask, because what everyone will do is hurt you, damage your trust, take advantage of your vulnerability. Why would I want that pain if I can avoid it?" The whole time I was talking I caressed her hand with my tumb.
"Charlie..." It's nothing more than a whisper.
"I'm not the only one doing it," I whisper back. "You do it too." She stares into my eyes.
"But not to everyone."
"I don't do it to everyone either." We stare at each other, her hand clings to my shirt, by my neck, and I expect her to push me away. I shouldn't have said that, I should have left it that way.
To my surprise she pulls me towards her, I can only watch, I seem petrified. She stops pulling when our lips are millimeters apart. She takes my breath away when I look into her eyes again. She swallows.
"Jay..." With a lot of effort and all the self-control I have, I put my hands on the counter, even though they shake because I want to grab her by the hips so badly.
"Shut up and kiss me." That sentence takes my breath away and my heartbeat lingers in my throat. When her grip weakens, I don't waste a moment and stretch my head far enough to press my lips on hers. When my lips touch hers, I explode inside, my heart rate speeds up, so does my breathing and I become lightheaded.
I pull back to see how she reacts. Her eyes are still closed and her fingers are on her lips. Did I screw it up? Did she want this? Then her eyes open and I look into 2 beautiful green eyes, I find no regrets or guilt in them, only desire.
At the same time we bend towards each other, we kiss each other harder. My hands find her hips and I feel her left hand on my cheek, her fingers run through my hair, I shiver and feel how everything in my stomach starts to itch again. I run my tongue over her lower lip to request access. It doesn't take long for my tongue to dance with hers and it feels perfect. Our lips move in sync, moving with nothing more than perfection. I pull her against me, feel her moan softly on my lips. She feels small in my arms and that somehow just makes it ten times better.
Ultimately we have to break apart to gasp for breath. We hug each other, trying to catch our breath. I find peace in her arms, the kind of peace I have been looking for for a long time.
"Charlie," she whispers after a few minutes. I don't want to let her go yet, so I tuck my head in the crook of her neck. I hear her giggle. "Charlie," she says again, her hands now running down my back.
"Mmm?" I ask, just thinking about how good she smells.
"It's really late." I sigh softly. "If it is up to the boys, they'll drum us out of bed at 7 and it is ten minutes over four." I know she's right, I just don't feel like letting go. Unfortunately I have to if she gently pushes me back.
I put my hands on the counter, she slides down and now stands against me again. "Sleep well, Jay." I stare into her eyes.
Jay stands on her toes, her lips are millimeters from mine. "Sleep tight." And then she closes the distance and kisses my lips. I stand like this even when she ducks under my arm and walks up the stairs. God, this girl does things to me.