The Boy You're Running From
by Mallory
There was a boy.
When you were thirteen, there was a boy. The one boy. The only boy. The boy you're trying so hard to forget.
The boy you're running from.
*
You like how Lucas touches you; he makes you feel like you're the only one he wants to be with, which probably isn't true, considering how he feels about Peyton, but there it is.
You've only felt that way with Lucas; you're the slut, and accordingly, guys never think about you while they're fucking you. They may think about you while they're fucking their girlfriends, but that doesn't count.
But Lucas, when he touches you, it's because he wants you. And he's the only one who's ever wanted you like that.
Except David, part of your mind insists, and you squash that thought down.
*
When you get him drunk and make out with him and show him the tattoo it's because that's the only way you know how to do it.
All you know is sex sex sex, but he knows love, and just as you'll teach him the language of sex, he'll teach you the language of love, and one day as he runs his fingers through your hair, you'll realize that you have it.
*
The thing is, the problem is, he isn't supposed to hurt you.
Because you're ready for it, you're ready for him, so you did it. You opened yourself up. You let yourself become vulnerable.
Sometimes, you think, I am incredibly, incredibly stupid.
*
David was you're first boyfriend; you both were thirteen and clumsy. There were awkward kisses and fumbling touches; there were long talks sitting on the table of his kitchen, and the Kevin Smith movies in his bedroom; and he held your hand as you walked under the stars.
"I love you," he whispered against your mouth.
"I love you, too," you mumbled before you caught his mouth in yours.
And so you decided you were ready, and trembled as he entered you, and murmured how much you loved him again and again and again.
And then…
He wasn't supposed to be out there.
But he always wanted to do it. He loved the water and storms and the boat.
So he took it out there, and the boat capsized, and he drowned.
And he was gone
and you didn't know how to—
you were falling into a dark hole and you didn't know how
to stop—
but one day, you realized how,
and you began fucking every guy who would have you. And you pretended you didn't care, and that it didn't matter and one day it was all right because your lies became true.
And you were still stuck suspended half-way down a pit but you didn't care or notice, as long as you weren't falling, as long as you could pretend you were ok.
*
As long as you don't have to love, you'll be ok. Not good, never good, maybe never again, but not falling. Ok.
But you thought maybe Lucas could…you thought you could love him.
But when it comes time for him to choose, you see the way he looks at Peyton, and you think it's only natural, when she's offering herself to him, the whole package, why shouldn't he take it?
And you fall.
Run, you direct yourself.
Pretend it doesn't matter.
Don't let yourself fall.
*
Sometimes you think you're running from David and to Lucas, to his arms, to his smile, to him him him.
But you know that's not true.
Because you're running from Lucas, too.