Flee (13 page)

Blake

Brody was laughing. I could hear him in the distance, squealing and giggling. In between giggles he was chanting,
“Bye-bye, watah! Hewooooo, watah!”
Oh! He must be standing at the ocean's edge, letting the waves wash across his toes. I could hear my parents laughing at his delight with such a simple thing. I imagined them on either side of him, holding his chubby little hands. But I couldn't open my eyes to actually look. My eyelids were too heavy, as if something was weighing them down. Besides, I didn't want to move, not even my head.

The hammock on which I lay swung gently from side to side. The cool ocean breeze blew softly across my body, ruffling my bangs. Something soft and warm and heavy was placed in my arms, cradled against my chest.
Brody
. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. His hair was still damp from his swim. It smelled of salt water and sunscreen. I heard the soft click of a camera and finally forced my eyes open to see Dad smiling at me, one finger pressed against his lips. I got the message.
Don't wake Brody
.

It was an unnecessary warning. I wanted to lie in this hammock with my baby brother in my arms forever. I concentrated on my parents' soft murmurings. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but the sound of their voices was as soothing as the soft touch on my arm. What was that? Brody had not moved, but something was stroking my arm. Wait, who was beside me? I didn't know. No one else belonged in the family memory.
Oh. It was a memory
.

I couldn't hear Brody or my parents anymore, but it didn't matter. All of my attention was focused on the presence next to me. I cuddled into it and was rewarded with a soft stroking of my arm, which seemed to make every cell in my body awaken. Strong firm fingers worked their way gently up and down my forearm. I squeezed them, and they squeezed back, and warmth flooded my body.
I want to see you
, I thought, but my eyes still wouldn't open. I fought against the weight that held them closed, but they didn't respond, and I groaned in frustration. The presence beside me chuckled and then kissed the top of my head.
Do that again, please
. But nothing happened, and I pouted. The chuckle sounded again, followed by the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. If only I could understand what it was saying. What is that, Spanish?

“Blake.”

The voice spoke again and my heartbeat sped up. This voice made me happy. Whose was it? A soft hand pushed my hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. That was better. It had been hot on my face.

“
Blake, you need to wake up
.”

Oh, I was dreaming. Yes, that made sense. Reality slowly worked its way into my conscience. This was my favorite memory. I had imagined it a thousand times. But it was different now. A new presence was there, a new voice.
Mateo
. My eyes shot open, and I was staring into his baby blues. The scene vanished from my mind, but surprisingly, the usual resulting sadness was not there. My face remained locked on Mateo's. He was so beautiful, inside and out. I sighed, perfectly content. If only I could wake up like this every day.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” This time he spoke in English. Had his eyes always been that blue? They twinkled as he smiled at me, and my heart fluttered. He brushed my hair away from my face. “Did you sleep all right?”

Oh crap. I was still on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, my head on a pillow in his lap, sunlight streaming in from the windows. Joe and Mary! They must be worried sick. I sat up abruptly, my wild hair falling across my face and obstructing my view of Mateo as I tried to disentangle myself from the blanket and rise.

“Hey, calm down.” Mateo laughed and pulled me back down before I could fall. “You're going to trip and hit your head on the coffee table. Don't worry. Joe and Mary know where you are, and they're okay with it. They've been checking on you online through the security system's website periodically.”

“They've been watching me sleep?” My voice was hoarse and groggy and confused. Mateo nodded.

“So have I. You're quite adorable when you sleep, you know, even when you drool.”

“Great,” I replied. “So glad I could entertain you with saliva.” I yawned and stretched. “What time is it?”

“About eleven. You've been asleep for almost twelve hours.” He looked proud, as if he were single-handedly responsible for this. He probably was. Then he laughed at my horrified expression.

“Don't be embarrassed. You have a lot of missed sleep to make up for. You don't have to get up now if you don't want to. I kind of like sitting here with your head in my lap. I could watch you all day.”

“No, I need to get up,” I said, assessing my situation. I put my hand in front of my mouth to block my breath. “I really need a bathroom, and then I would do anything for a toothbrush, used or not. My teeth feel like they've grown fuzz.”

He pulled the blanket off of me and I rose. “Bathroom's down that hall, second door on the right. I'll look around and see if Doodles has a toothbrush he's no longer using.”

“Tell him I said thanks,” I called before I shut the bathroom door. Staring at my reflection in the mirror was a slightly horrifying experience. My once-braided hair was loose and crazy and crimped all over my head. Medusa had nothing on me. Mascara was smeared under my eyes, but the dark circles that months of grief and fatigue had painted there were gone, and my cheeks were rosy. More importantly, I felt good. Happy and rested and content. The ache for my family was still there. It probably always would be, but it was manageable. I didn't feel alone or scared anymore.

“If there's a God, then thank you.” Mateo knocked on the bathroom door, and I opened it to receive a toothbrush, still in its packaging, and a tube of toothpaste, as well as my elastic hair bands, a brush, and a clean white t-shirt that I guessed was his.

“You were clawing at your braids in your sleep, so I took them out. I hope you don't mind. I didn't know at the time I was unleashing a beast.” He grinned, and I grimaced.

“Thanks,” I said. “For everything.” I looked in his eyes for a minute and fought the urge to put my arms around his neck and kiss him. That probably wouldn't end well. My mouth still felt like the contents of a Petri dish. “I'll be out in a minute.”

I shut the door and brushed my teeth, washed my face, and tried to tame my wild hair, shoving it up into a sloppy topknot so at least it was out of my face. I pulled off the t-shirt I had sweated in at the game and pulled Mateo's clean one over my head. It was way big, but soft and clean. I used my extra elastic band to knot up the back of it and stepped out of the bathroom.

Mateo was in the kitchen, carefully pouring batter onto a waffle iron.

“I thought you only made sandwiches and the world's best chocolate cake?”

“Mom mixed the batter and told me all I had to do was pour it onto this contraption and shut the lid for a couple of minutes. As you can see, even that's too complicated for me.” Batter oozed down the sides of the iron, splattering on the granite countertop.

“Here, let me do that.” I moved to take over and Mateo stepped behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist. I leaned my head back against his chest. “Where is everyone?”

“Mom went to the store, and Hector is asleep in the pool house where he lives. He was up most of the night working on something and will probably sleep most of the day. It's just you and me.”

A bark challenged his words. “And of course you, Doodles.” Mateo moved to open the back door and let Doodles out, and then resumed his position behind me. “Joe called while you were in the bathroom. He said he and Mary were taking the kids to Pflugerville for the day to visit Mary's parents. I told him you could stay with me. I hope that's okay.”

“Mmmm, quite okay.” I opened the waffle iron and popped out the finished waffle before adding more batter. “You know what? I'm starving. I think I could eat ten of these. And when I'm done, I'm going to kick your butt on that soccer field of yours. Hey, do you have any strawberries?”

Mateo grinned. “Oh, you're on,” he said, pulling a bowl of strawberries from the fridge and then moved back into position behind me. “If you can still move after eating ten waffles.”

“Oh, I'll be able to move. The question is, can you keep up? And then after I kick your butt, you'll share with me the deep dark secret that keeps putting that worried look on your face.” I could tell from the way his arms tensed that very look was back.

“You know, there's nothing you can say that will scare me away, if that's what you're afraid of.” I turned to face him and then traced his frown with my finger, trying to smooth it away.

“Hey,” I said gently. “What is it? You look so worried.” Actually, he almost looked scared. It wasn't a look I was used to seeing on his face. He was always so calm and confident.

“Later,” he replied. “I promise. No secrets. But first let's eat.” He smiled, an expression that slowly built until it reached his eyes, and they twinkled.

“I can't believe you're here. I'm used to spending the weekends worrying about you and waiting to see you again, and here you stand in my kitchen wearing my t-shirt making my waffles.”

“Who said anything about your waffles?” I deadpanned back. “These are for me.”

“Good thing, too,” he replied, glancing over my shoulder. “Since you're burning them.”

“Ugh, stop distracting me.” The waffle I pried off of the grill with a fork was a blackened disk. I tossed it onto a plate with a thud.

“I changed my mind. This one is for you.”

“I hope you play soccer better than you cook.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Go make yourself useful by finding me a pair of shorts. I can't play soccer in jeans. I'll finish the waffles alone.”

After we ate and I changed, we headed outside. It was hot and muggy, and I was a little too full. It was a weird sensation after so many months of barely eating. I wanted to curl up on the patio furniture and take a nap, but instead gritted my teeth and headed for the field.

We weren't very far into our one-on-one scrimmage before I realized that Mateo was an excellent player. I sensed he was holding back, giving me opportunities to win the ball and attempt to score, and yet he was still brilliant. It was as if he was attached to the ball with some invisible cord or magnetic force. He was always in control. More than once I found myself standing still, watching his footwork instead of trying to win the tackle.

I played the best game I could, but I knew that if he hadn't been gracious, I would have had very few touches on the ball. I did manage to score two goals to his ten, but the score could have easily been fifty to two if he hadn't been focusing more on defensive keep-away rather than shooting. After thirty or so minutes, I collapsed on the field, hot and sweaty and breathing hard. Mateo sat down beside me, and I was comforted to notice that he was also breathing hard.

“Wow, you're amazing,” I said, my eyes closed against the bright sun. “That was incredible to watch. I didn't even mind you completely owning me.”

“Thanks,” he replied, his voice soft.

The hot sun was beating down on me, as well as radiating off of the baked ground. I lay quietly for a minute, feeling suffocated and wishing for a cool breeze.

“Ugh, it's so hot.” I tried to find the energy to move to the shade. Mateo hopped up.

“I can take care of that,” he replied. I lifted up my hand without opening my eyes so that he could pull me to my feet and was surprised when he lifted my whole body, gathering me in his arms.

“What're you doing? I don't think I trust that look on your face…” He didn't answer, but continued walking, wearing a wicked little grin. “Put me down.” I could see the pool ahead, and it suddenly dawned on me where he was going.

“Oh no, you don't. These are my good tennis shoes. Put me down, Mateo!”

My attempt to sound stern completely failed. He was just so adorable, and it was hot. I began kicking off my shoes as the pool got closer, giggling and playfully writhing to put up a fight, but it was not much of an effort. We arrived at the edge of the pool, and I prepared myself to be dropped in, but Mateo didn't stop walking. He just continued his stride as if solid ground was still there, and the next thing I knew, we were both in the pool, and I was still in his arms. The cool water was refreshingly fabulous.

“Better?”

“Much,” I replied, wiggling free and diving down to the bottom. I swam to the shallow end and pulled myself up to sit on the edge. Water dripped off of my skin, running in tiny rivulets down my arms and legs, cooling me instantly. The sun, which had seemed so unbearable and stifling minutes ago now danced off the drops on me, bringing warmth and pleasure.
Just like Mateo
. He was my cool refreshment, making my unbearable life livable again. I stood up, ready to dive back in and was startled to see someone hidden in the foliage beyond the pool. “Mateo!”

Mateo followed my gaze and quickly swam over to me. “It's okay. They're with me.”

I glanced again into the brush at the back of his steeply sloped property, confused, searching for the eyes I had made contact with.

“They're?”

Mateo climbed out of the pool and walked over to a basket containing towels, throwing one to me and drying off with another. He then took my hand and led me over to two lounge chairs.

“I guess it's time we talked.” His expression was serious, concerned. He sat sideways on the chair to my right, facing me. His eyes were locked on mine, and their intensity took my breath away. He didn't say anything for a minute, just stared at me as I stared back. Finally, he grabbed my hand and took a deep breath.

“I've never been in love before.” He said this softly, smiling. “I don't think, given my story, that I even considered it an option right now. I didn't plan on loving you, just being your friend and helping you however you needed. That plan didn't last much longer than the first five minutes I knew you, though I tried to convince myself otherwise.”