Part 9 (1/2)

She was lying in front of my door and I couldn't bring myself to step over her. The doork.n.o.b had been dripping.

”Elliott?”

I brought my gaze back to Stephen.

”You don't have to talk,” he said as he pushed a pad of paper and a pen toward me, ”but please let me know what's going on.”

I looked at the paper and scowled. I wasn't mute. I just didn't want to talk.

Stephen moved his hands toward my face and I leaned back, hoping to get away. I flinched when he touched the hollows under my eyes, knowing there were dark bruise-like circles there, and grabbed his forearms and pushed him away, forcing him to stop touching me.

”I-I-I-I-I'm gg-g-g-ggg-gg-ggoing t-t-to sc-school n-now.”

”Elliott,” Stephen said again, his tone making me feel guilty about how I didn't want to talk and didn't want him to touch me. I felt bad that he always seemed like he thought he was a failure because of it.

”W-w-w-what?”

I tried my hardest to convey through my eyes that I wanted him to back off and leave me alone. I didn't understand why he thought after five years of near-silence that this would be the morning I would come clean, giving up every hidden secret to him simply because he ”wanted to help.”

When he didn't speak, I stood up and grabbed my bag. ”I-I-I'm p-p-p-picking up S-S-Soph-phie.” I exhaled heavily, upset with myself for butchering a simple four-word sentence. It was no wonder Sophie kept me at a distance.

I couldn't even say her beautiful name without turning it into an ugly, stunted sound.

I pulled up to her house and fought back my body's response to hyperventilate. She was waiting for me out on her porch. The snow from the weekend was nearly melted, but it was still too cold for her to be waiting outside.

I checked the clock. Stephen had made me ten minutes late.

The panic wore off when she smiled at me. She was wearing the gloves and hat I'd gotten her. A part of me wanted Chris Anderson to see them on her and know that I had indeed gotten them for Sophie. The other part didn't want him to see them at all. My torso was still sore and bruised from last week.

Despite my poor overall mood, I smiled back at her. She slipped something into her coat pocket before picking up her bag and making her way to the car. I probably should have gotten out and opened the door for her. That would have been the nice thing to do.

Once she was inside, I realized quickly that she was high again, but I didn't care right then, because she was inside the car with me and that simple fact made me feel better.

The lingering sadness from the weekend faded until it was almost gone.

Almost.

”Hey, Elliott.”

But just because I felt better in her presence, didn't mean that I wanted to hear myself butcher her name again. So instead of giving her an actual greeting like she deserved, I smiled at her and pointed to the travel mug filled with coffee.

”Thanks,” she said as she wrapped her hand around the mug.

I nodded back at her.

Her mug paused mid-air as she looked at me, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny, and said, ”What's wrong?”

I shook my head, my eyes closing for just the briefest of moments.

”Why aren't you talking, Elliott?”

I sighed. Although it warmed me that she knew within the first minute there was something wrong, I couldn't force myself to speak. My teeth clenched together as I wished I could just talk. There were so many thoughts that I wanted to share with her.

Suddenly her hands were in my hair and I closed my eyes again. ”You don't have to,” she whispered so low it was almost as if she'd never said it.

When I opened my eyes, I made the mistake of trying to touch her. Just my fingertips brushed her cheekbone before she turned away. She gripped her coffee mug tightly and the only sound beyond the squeak of the leather seats was my sigh. I swallowed back my disappointment and waited until she'd fastened her seatbelt before s.h.i.+fting into first gear.

When we parked at school, she turned back to me, her eyes narrowed again, studying me like Stephen or Robin usually did.

”S-ssssstop.”

She turned back around, grabbing the strap of her bag and the mug of coffee with one hand. ”You going to be okay?”

I nodded. She covered my hand, still resting on the gear s.h.i.+ft. ”I'm sorry for...whatever's wrong.”

She didn't need to apologize for anything. It wasn't her fault I was the way I was.

Her hand was still resting on mine, so I figured I'd try again, just in case this was the time she'd actually let me touch her the way she touched me, but she moved away just like she always did. This was what Stephen must've felt like with me. He couldn't stop hoping, and apparently neither could I.

”W-w-w-why c-can you t-touch m-mm-mme but I c-can't t-touch you?”

Sophie's eyes widened for a moment before she turned away, then ran her hands through her hair, and bit her lower lip.

”I want you to touch me,” she said quietly.

If what she was saying was true, then it was no longer a risk, so I tried to touch her cheek again.

She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and moved away, practically pressed against the door. ”Not like that,” she said. ”You shouldn't want that.”

She was so confusing. ”I shouldn't w-w-want that?”

She had a dark look in her eyes before she closed them. ”You shouldn't want that from me.”

”SSS-SSSophie...”

She opened her eyes and reached for the door handle. ”I have to go, Elliott.”

I shouldn't have done it, but I did. I reached out and grabbed her wrist. For just a moment, she froze. She didn't blink. She didn't breathe. Then she pulled her arm free. ”Don't want what you can't have. I'm not capable of giving you what you need.”

”W-w-what do I n-need?” It was a serious question, because I honestly had no idea at this point, and if she did, I wanted to know.

”Someone who's good for you. I'll ruin you. I won't even mean to do it, but I will.”

Were we back to that again? ”S-S-Sophie, I think...”

She scrubbed her face with the palm of her hand. ”I got a job,” she said, her voice much lighter.

I wanted to congratulate her, but before I could even think of something to say, she was nodding toward the school, her bottom lip between her teeth. ”I'll see you in the greenhouse.”

Again, I wanted to say something to stop her, but my mouth wouldn't cooperate and she was already out of the car. This was not how I'd wanted this morning to go.