Part 8 (1/2)
I had been sitting there, chained to the wall, about to give up all hope of keeping my fingers and life. Blondie, though, had other plans. The fact that she was willing to sacrifice so much just to keep me in one piece was something I really hadn't expected. Seeing her wide green eyes go blank while each limb was chained up, accepting the sacrifice of her dignity-I never wanted to see it again and especially not for me. I really didn't deserve such an offering.
This girl-my Blondie-had, single-handed I might add, freed us from those disgusting monsters who had no right to call themselves men. It was all her-not her father.
I didn't regret kissing her. I was just so d.a.m.ned proud of her and thankful that she had saved me. Again. Honestly, it hurt my ego a bit, but I had to man up and take it. In the end, it doesn't matter who gets you out; it's the getting out that's important and I had her to thank for that.
I pulled away, but let my hands linger on her cheeks. They were flushed, warm, and it made me want to chuckle. She was blus.h.i.+ng. Perhaps she hadn't been kissed all that often as a teenager, if at all. I told myself that it had only been a friendly, thank you gesture.
I sat cross-legged across from her, took the bottle she offered, and downed almost half.
”Have the rest,” I handed it back as I pulled out a bag of dried fruit that she had let me have the day we embarked on this crazy adventure. I never liked this c.r.a.p, but needless to say, my taste buds changed; anything edible was delicious.
[ Elle ]
My hands were suddenly quite interesting. The sand was as well and so was that patch of hair I had missed shaving the other day above my knee. I couldn't bear to look at him after what he just did.
It was just a forehead kiss. It was just a forehead kiss.
My father used to give me those. Why was uncomfortable heat radiating off my face? It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it; G.o.d knows I did. I just didn't know how to react. If I was going to appear sane, I had to gain at least a modic.u.m of composure.
And he said my name! He called me Elle; I couldn't believe it. I wasn't going to deny myself the pleasure of the feeling it gave me. I liked the way it sounded rolling off his tongue. I wondered what saying my name meant to him. Did he finally come to terms with the fact that we were friends, that he could trust me fully now? Oh, but I savored that memory and I knew I would for a long time. I wouldn't bug him about it though, at least not yet.
Tex offered me a something in a small, plastic bag. I didn't pay attention; I just stuck my hand into it and pulled out some soft, rubbery pieces of apricot and banana. I practically inhaled it, not realizing how famished I was until the sweet smell of the fruit hit me. He must have noticed. He handed me the bag again.
When I felt that my face was no longer the color of a cherry, I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze.
”I was thinking, Tex. What if they copied the map?”
”c.r.a.p! The map! Where the f-”
I smirked and pulled it from the back of my shorts, wagging it in front of him, flaunting it.
”Aren't you just full of surprises?” He s.n.a.t.c.hed the map from me and opened it up. ”We'll have to find a landmark quick if we want to make it to a safepoint by dawn.” He stood up, turned away from me, and held the map out in front of him. He looked at the mountains and hills, back at the map, then back and forth until he was satisfied by what he found. ”If I'm right about this, we should only be about five miles from the closest stop.”
”That's a relief.” I stood up and nudged his ribs with my elbow. I handed him back the small bag that was formerly filled with dried fruit and grinned.
”Pig.” He rolled his eyes and we started off in a direction away from the dunes. They looked so soft and cozy, like a dreamland with sloping hills made from clouds. It made me sleepy.
It reminded me of the one winter when I went to Maine to visit my grandparents. They lived in an old colonial-style home. I remembered I used to love that house; every time my family and I visited, it smelled like chocolate chip cookies and cherry-apple strudel. My grandmother would always have some sort of gift for me along with whatever sweet she had baked. My favorite had always been her pumpkin cookies with brown sugar frosting. She always made it at least once while I was visiting. My grandfather-he never ceased to make me laugh. He'd let me ride his knee as he shook it up and down-my own roller coaster. One year he built me one of those antique-looking wooden sleds. I rode it for hours down the little hill they lived on. I would slide down, then run back up, and then slide down again. It went on from dawn to dusk, until my mom would call me in for supper.
The dunes looked so sled-able. If I just had a piece of cardboard, I'd be able to slide down it like old times-like I was five again and, other than hoping my grandpa hadn't eaten the last pumpkin cookie, I didn't have a care in the world,.
”Are you coming, Kid?” Tex asked.
”I'm coming, I'm coming. I was flas.h.i.+ng back to a really good memory, you know.”
”Forgive me, Your Highness!” He bowed to me.
I rolled my eyes and put my finger up in the air, gesturing that I had a sudden thought. ”How old are you?”
Tex gasped and put his hand up to his chest and fanned himself with the other. ”Why, I never!” He spoke with a horrible, high-pitched, southern accent. ”You never ask a lady her age!”
I snorted and thanked G.o.d I didn't have water in my mouth at that moment. ”Tex!” What was this sudden change in personality? He was actually being funny, actually joking around with me.
”I'm twenty-eight.” He shrugged.
I blinked. He was older than I thought.
”Aren't you going to ask me my age?”
”Don't make me speak with that southern accent again.”
”Oh come on, I don't care about that. Guess!”
He laughed at me. It was still a sound that I would never stop loving or get used to. It was deep, throaty, and playful. He put his finger up to his chin, appearing in deep thought. He began to count on his fingers. Then he rubbed his jaw.
”Oh, come on!” I groaned.
”Fine, fine!” He laughed again. ”Twenty?”
”Nope.”
”Nineteen?”
”Higher, you imbecile!” My smile was apologetic, but he just shook his head.
”Twenty-three?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
”Ding, ding, ding!”
”What do I win?”
A kiss. Wait, that's not what I meant. I flushed. I scratched my head and the grit in my hair slid underneath my nails. c.r.a.p, think fast, Elle.
”I won't ask you any personal questions for a full twenty-four hours.”
He whistled. ”I'll take it!”
We talked and joked around the rest of way. I told him stories about myself, careful to leave out the ones that involved my dad. I told him about my first boyfriend in middle school. We had held hands for two days and never spoke to each other again, except for a few cursory glances now and then. I spoke of my first boy-girl party back in ninth grade when I went to my best friend's birthday celebration. We played spin the bottle with a liter of soda and I received my first kiss from Josh Lawrence. I told him about the time I broke my elbow playing tag with the boys during recess. I was unstoppable and one of the boys didn't like being outdone by a nine-year-old girl; he tripped me and I spent the rest of the day at the nurse's office until my mom could get off work to take me to an urgent care. The next day my cast was covered in signatures, hearts, and peace signs. And I grimaced, telling him about the time I had forgotten to feed my mother hamster and her young for a couple days and I found the mother devouring one of her babies. That one scarred me for several months.
Tex intervened between stories to add his own quips and tales. His first kiss was with Tina Goodman. She had surprised it on him and he didn't like it a bit; he had still been in the eww-girls-are-nasty stage. He apparently joined the Navy soon after high school, but he only made it through a couple years before injuring himself to the point of having to be honorably discharged. He touched his blind eye at that point. He must have lost his sight in the service, but I didn't press the issue. Some things were better left unsaid.
He had wanted to be a SEAL. I thought he would have done well; he had the personality and strength for it. He said he was glad that it turned out that way because he met Sarah weeks after returning home.
I guess he felt comfortable enough with me to finally talk about his family in detail. After six months of dating, he said, they were married and had Danielle shortly afterward. His face changed entirely while talking about his daughter. His expression was soft, serene, gentle almost. It made my heart ache for him. I wished Danielle was here so I could see him with her, so care-free. I wanted to see his face like that all the time. It killed me that my dad had been the one to cause him such a tortured existence. I would probably never come to terms with that. I vowed then that I would help make up for it though. He would never fully be healed, but I could at least try to make it a little easier for him.
I was glad when we finally made it to our next safepoint. Tex once again dug out the supply box, and we devoured the MREs. I laid the blanket down, once again careful not to pick up any dust.