Falling Into Us (30 page)

I woke up with words bubbling in my head. It was early evening, and I had a text from Jason from ten minutes earlier saying he’d be home soon. I dug my notebook from my purse and let the thoughts flow.

A THIN RED LINE

You looked so guilty

When I walked in

Your eyes were haunted

Your hands trembling

And I watched a thin red line blossom on your wrist

An evil scarlet flower

Trailing skeins of leaked pain down your arm

So easily wiped away

Covered over

Hidden

By bandages and lies and shirtsleeves

Glossed over by blasé reassurances
 

That it helped
 

Somehow

As if gashes gouged in your skin

Could take away the grief

You looked so guilty

When I walked in

Jumping up from giving yourself scars

And I wonder

If my bought silence

Will be your death

And I wonder

If the vault of my soul

Can hold any more secrets

Any more hidden sins

All this wells up on your skin

Bleeds out from
 

A thin red line
 

Cut into your wrist

Jason walked in as I closed the notebook. He took one look at me and dropped his bag in the doorway, slid onto the bed next to me, and pulled me against his chest. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew I’d gone to see Nell.

“It’s bad, Jason.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s cutting herself.”

Jason leaned away from me, eyes wide in disbelief. “She’s
what
?”

“I surprised her in her room. She was cutting her arm with a razor blade. She said it wasn’t about trying to kill herself, just…like it was something to manage the pain.” I buried my face in his shirt, smelling the dried sweat on him layered over Old Spice deodorant. “She made me swear to not tell anyone. She promised she’d get it under control.”

“God. Poor Nell. I can’t believe she’d do that.”

“Her mom knows she’s drinking, but since she’s never actually caught Nell drinking and hasn’t found anything in her room, she says there’s not much she can do. What do I do, Jason? How do I keep this to myself?”

“I don’t even know.”

“She said she’d never talk to me again if I told anyone. And if I felt like she was suicidal, I’d risk that to help her.”

“But you don’t think she is?”

“No, I really don’t. When I walked in, she acted more like I’d caught her smoking pot or something. It’s so f-fucked up, Jason. What if I’m wrong? What if I don’t know her as well as I think I do, and she does something to hurt herself, or worse? What if she does something by accident?” I shuddered in his arms.

He tightened his hold on me, then scooped me up so I was curled on his lap. “I’m not trying to excuse what she’s doing, but I think I can sort of understand it.” Jason let out a long breath and tucked a stray wisp of hair down, then continued. “When Dad would fuck me up, I would spend all day in pain, you know? I’d be pissing blood or something, but I couldn’t let on. And then I’d have to play ball with bruised ribs or whatever. And after a while, the pain sort of…becomes its own thing. Like, it’s a separate—I don’t know—a whole beast of its own. It’s not about the fact that you got beat up by your father, it’s pain, and you can rely on the pain to be there. It’s there, and it’s not going away. When you hurt for long enough, it becomes familiar. After a while, you get to need the pain because it’s what you know. For me, I can play ball and work out. I can shred my muscles until I’m shaky, and then I’m okay. It’s not about the pain for me so much, though. Not anymore. Now I guess I’m kind of addicted to the rush of working out, the endorphins or whatever. My point is, I can understand how Nell would turn to physical pain to escape the emotional. Doesn’t make it right, though.”

“But what d-d-do I
do
?”
 

“There may not be anything you
can
do, honey. I don’t know. If she doesn’t want help, then we can’t help her. Who do you tell? Her parents are aware she’s not okay, apparently, but unless she does something drastic, they can’t force her into anything. Do you tell the police? She’s not breaking any laws. If you really think she’s suicidal, you have to do something drastic, no matter the consequences to your friendship if it means saving her life. But if you’re convinced she’s not suicidal…I don’t know. Just be there if she needs you.”

*
 
*
 
*

The next day was Saturday, and I left my parents’ house as soon as I’d showered and changed. I was out the door before anyone was awake, and knocking on Ben’s apartment door at seven in the morning. Jason answered in his boxers, hair messy, eyes squinting.
 

“Jesus, babe, it’s the asscrack of dawn on a Saturday, first day of summer vacation. Can’t you sleep in past six in the fucking morning?” He let me in and shut the front door behind me, then shuffled back to his bedroom, shoving the bedroom door closed behind us.
 

I laughed as I set my purse down on the floor and crawled into bed with him, snuggling up behind him and pulling the covers over us. “No, I really can’t. I’ve been waking up at six since my freshman year of high school, and now I just wake up at six regardless. I figured if I was up, I might as well come see you.”

“Can I go back to sleep?” he mumbled, already halfway there.

“Sure you can, love. But what if I had something else in mind?” I let my hand roam across his chest and belly, dipping lower suggestively.

He didn’t respond for a long moment, and I thought he’d fallen asleep, but then he rolled in my arms so our faces were millimeters apart, his green eyes hooded with sleep but sparking with desire and amusement. “Ah, now I know the real reason why you’re here so early.”

“You’re not the only one with an addiction, you know.” That was the raw truth; I was totally addicted to Jason’s body, to his love, to the heat of our bodies merging.

There was more to it, though, and I wasn’t about to admit the rest out loud. I needed Jason for the same reason he needed to lift weights and Nell needed to cut. I needed a distraction. I needed something other than the worry for Nell and the weight of the secrets and my parents’ disapproval. When I’d gone home the night before, it had been well before midnight, but my parents had acted like I’d been out past curfew, despite the fact that I was in college. They wanted to know what I was doing and if it would be a habit for me to stay out that late. When I’d told them I wasn’t going to be treated like a child anymore, it had led to a fight. It didn’t matter that I was valedictorian of my high school, or that I’d completed sixty-four credits in three semesters with a 4.0 GPA at one of the top universities in the country.
 

I knew, logically, that my overprotective but loving parents were a minor blip on the life-problems scale. But personal problems were a relative thing. I hated feeling their distrust. I hated the disapproval in their eyes when I told them I’d been at home with Jason last night.
 

Jason distracted me from these thoughts by slipping his fingers under the hem of my shirt to touch my bare back. I shivered and leaned in to bite his lower lip.

“Out with it,” he said, deftly removing my shirt.

“Out with what?” I pretended ignorance, hoping to keep the conversation light.

“Whatever’s bugging you.”

I wiggled out of my skirt and threw my leg over Jason’s, sighing in pleasure as he stroked my leg from knee to thigh. “Just my parents. They still want me home by 1 a.m. and expect me to check in with them and tell them where I am.”

“And they still don’t approve of you spending all your time with me.” He had my bra off in seconds and was pushing my underwear down past my knees and hooking them off the rest of the way with his toes.

I shook my head. “No. I’m wondering if they ever will.”

“Probably not.”

“So should I even bother trying to follow their rules?”

Jason paused, his mouth between my breasts. “That’s gotta be your call, honey. The last thing I want is to be a problem between you and your parents. I can’t tell you what to do with them. I want them to accept that we’re adults, young adults, sure, but still adults. But whether you toe their line is up to you.”

“I don’t expect them to like the fact that we’re together, like…well, like this. And I’m not going to flaunt it in their face, but I’m also not going to let them dictate my life. If I want to stay here with you till four in the morning, I’m going to.”

“What if you just stayed here?”

“Like, didn’t live with my parents over the summer?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Why not? They’re going to have to get used to it sometime, right?”

“They’d cut me off. They’d take my car and my monthly allowance.”

Jason didn’t answer right away, and I knew his answer would be something I might not like by the fact that he slid back up my body and met my eyes, all playful touching stopped. “Don’t—don’t take this the wrong way, baby, but maybe it’s time you let that happen.”

I frowned at him. “What’s that mean?”

He sighed. “I—just that maybe you should get that stuff on your own.”

“Because I don’t know what work is? Because I’ve always had things given to me?”

“Sort of? Look, I know you’re gonna get pissed off at this, but I’m never gonna sugarcoat things for you.” He wrapped his hand around my nape and brushed a ringlet of hair away from my eyes. “You need to get a job. You’ve never had one. If you let them pay for everything, they’ll always have leverage over you. If you earn things yourself, they’ll be forced to see that you’re capable of making your own decisions.”

“How many jobs have you had?”

He frowned at me. “I’m not trying to…belittle you, or say I’m better. But I stopped taking Dad’s money—”

“When it was convenient for you to do so.
After
you had a car and an expensive camera and money saved up.” I poked him in the chest. “You don’t have a job, either. You have a full ride that includes room and board and books as well as tuition
and
a dispensation for living expenses.”

He grimaced; his full-ride offer from U of M was generous, to say the least. “I’m not—look, baby. I’m just saying maybe it’s time you cut the strings a little, okay? Not that there’s anything wrong with the way things are, but…your parents will still love you, right? If you stay here with me full-time, will they disown you and refuse to speak to you ever again?”
 

I shook my head, seeing his point. “No. They won’t like it one bit, but they won’t do that. They’ll be pissed off for a long time, but they’ll come around. Eventually. I hope.”

“You don’t need their money or their car, not if it comes with conditions. You can take my truck whenever you want, and you know it. Your scholarships cover tuition and room and board, too, so all you need money for is books and other shit, right? So we’ll find jobs. Both of us. You can cut back to four or five classes next semester and work part-time. I’ll get a job, too, and we’ll pool our resources. If you come to a point where you need your own car, we’ll get you one.” He kissed me on the cheek, then just beneath my eye, then the corner of my mouth. “Don’t be mad, please. I just don’t want you to have this issue with your parents every time we come back.”

I sighed, covering my eyes with one hand, thinking. “No, you’re right. I’m not mad. I just hate conflict. I hate confrontations. We argued last night, and they just…they had the gall to look disappointed in me, like I’d let them down by coming home at eleven-thirty without checking in. What do they think is going on at school? They think I’m in my dorm by nine every night? That I’m some innocent virgin?”

“I think they want you to be their little girl forever. Just be glad they care as much as they do.” The wistful tone in his voice brought everything back into perspective.

I pushed him onto his back and moved to sit astride him. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I’m just being silly and selfish.”

He caressed my hips and shook his head lovingly. “No, baby. You’re the least selfish person I know.”

“But I’m worried about my stupid little problems when you and Nell are—”

He touched my lips with a finger, silencing me. “It’s not a competition.” He massaged the hollow of my hips with his thumbs, and I unconsciously shifted my weight to allow him access where I most wanted his touch. “I’ll support whatever you decide. I’ll help you any way I can. What’s mine is yours, okay? If you need something, I’ll make sure you have it, however I have to get it.”

I melted at his words. “You’re not responsible for me. We’re in this together.”

He laughed. “You’re my woman. Of course I’m responsible for you. It’s my highest duty in life to take care of you, protect you.”

“Old-fashioned much? I can take care of myself.”

He sighed dramatically. “I
know
that. That’s not the point. I’m not saying sit back and be Susie Homemaker here. I’m just saying you’re not in this alone.”

I giggled and leaned over him, silencing him with a kiss. “I know that, Jason. Shut up and distract me already. I need my fix.”

He grinned then, and palmed my breasts, and I felt the heat in my belly turn to dampness between my thighs. He slid one hand between our bodies and slipped a finger into me. I shifted forward to deepen the kiss, my weight on my knees and shins. He tugged me forward and slipped my nipple into his mouth, and I gasped, arching my back toward his mouth, feeling the first wave crash over me.
 

He circled my clit as I came, drawing the orgasm out until I was writhing above him. I felt his erection at my core, but he still had his underwear on. I lifted up and tugged at them frantically, fumbling with them until he managed to help me get them off. I threw them across the room, my thighs trembling as I hovered over him, hair falling in a curtain around his face. I wiggled my hips downward, nudging the tip of him into my folds, guiding him into my opening with a shift of my hips. I hesitated, sitting upright on my knees, hovering with trembling muscles, relishing this moment, the pause before I sank down with him deep inside me. He held onto my hips, eyes locked on mine, his breath bated. I took his hands in mine, tangled our fingers, and then fell forward, pinning his hands above his head. He let me pin him, a grin on his face. I knew he loved it when I took control.