Chapter 4: Beside Him
I wake up with Adam beside me, both of his hands around my waist, holding me close with protective procession, almost as if the thinks I'm going to run away. My head rests on his chest, right below the crook of his neck. I lift my chin to allow myself to gaze at his slacked face. He looks so peaceful, but purple of exhaustion still show beneath his eyes. I woke up another two times last night. The second was worse than the first, but the third became more of a whimper into the deep void that I've realized has enveloped the darkness. I guess, it's for the best. If I plan on going on tour with Adam, nights will be long and eventful. I might as well give up on sleep during those wee hours now.
His lips split ever so slightly and I run my thumb along their softness, gently, careful not to wake him. When he stirs, I move to his cheek, just wanting to touch, just wanting to feel his warmth. The sun drifts in from the windows between the fibers of the thing fabric that covers them and everything feels tender. His cheek. His chest. The thin ticking of hair that lays stretched across his sternum. His heart.
He moans and his eyelids stretch at the flickering of light in front of him before opening fully to the sight in front of him, to me.
Today is the first day back at school and I feel like an alien.
Adam walks me back into school, Gran and Gramps leading the way to the office to have a communal conference with the principle and guidance counselors, people I have purposefully avoided throughout my time here. People stare, and not just because I have a geriatric entourage. Everyone knows. I see the pity on their faces, most not knowing what to say and others who I've never seen before, let alone talked to, saying they're "sorry for my loss," making me cringe at the words, Adam stroking my hand as I pinch his with every automatic tick.
He's not the most thrilled either. He never wanted to see this place after graduation, not in it for much other than a diploma to fall back on that I insisted he needed, rather than just dropping out to take the band on full-time earlier. There's definitely a few people he looks the other way from, hoping to avoid and disappear from, just like myself.
Kim is standing at the office door, leg propped beneath her like Adam does by his car whenever he picks me up. I think they've been rubbing off on each other since I was in the hospital, given no one but each other to keep close to me.
"That is quite the entrance you've got going," she declares, raising her eyebrows, impressed, as the sarcasm rolls off her tongue. "Trying to show up the rockstar boyfriend, are we?"
"Compliments always appreciated, Kim," Adam says, as we pass.
"Sure thing," she says, collapsing her leg back to the ground and readjusting her books. "Mia, I'm gonna head to class. Just wanted to see you before you met with the 'big boss.' Find me later."
I nod and follow in behind Gran and Gramps as their wrinkly hands push through the door with the confidence in the traditional education system only a Baby Boomer can possess.
We sit in black folding chairs from the gym, one stiff wooden seat pulled against the windows for Mrs. McKenzie, a guidance counselor that never seemed to show any interest in me before now. Principle Greene must not have wanted to give up the dominant stance of his clunky dulling pine desk. The blinds are open and covered in a thin layer of grime. The tiles are yellowing white and speckled.
Gran clutches the cross around her neck, sat on the edge of her seat as Greene talks to her almost directly, though about me. Gramps sits back across from me, smiling and attempting for me to do the same. He knows that she tries too hard, but he loves her anyways.
Adam's thumb strokes the inside of my hand on my lap as Mrs. McKenzie explains the next few months. If I want to graduate, I need her to catch up on three weeks of work at home and continue with to my previous classes. Most of that I already worked on while in the hospital or during rehab. As long as I can catch up and stay on track, I can graduate on time in the spring like everyone else. They'll even tell Juilliard that I'm on schedule. They had to alert them of my accident after the first three weeks of absence. I wince at the name, but hold my composure, Adam still stroking my hand, the warmth of it on my leg.
There's no actual educational substance other than that, something they had promised me months ago. I'll have to work hard to catch up and get reconnected with the school. Nothing I didn't already know. And so, after an hour of small talk with Gran, we're back into the hallway at precisely the same time everyone is coming from their first period classes, another set of people moving around me with their singular glances.
Gran gives me an encompassing hug and Gramps a kiss on the forehead before leaving me with Adam to continue on with our lives. I don't tell them about deferring a year. Not yet. Not until the dust settles and I figure out if I can handle getting back to normal anyways.
Adam kisses me in the darkened corner beside the office, where the article light from the hallway and limp conversation and gossiping echoes from the rest of the hallway don't quite travel. He tells me that he loves me and will see me back at home later, his things taking over the living room over the last week.
It makes me feel normal, his things scattered like splattered paint across my old home, across memories that make me scream into the darkness at night. We've started rearranging the furniture and painting, but only in smaller projects, anything to stop the uneasiness, to make it different, to make me different.
So, I kiss him back and smile again his lips, the one good thing I have, the one sense of normalcy, and head to class, books gripped against my chest in my arms, backpack jumping at my beck, and eyes brighter than before.
I drop my bag to the side of the door in a heap, slipping off my shoes and shutting the door behind me. It's half-hazard and noisy. I cringe, knowing that Adam has been napping on the couch around this time of day lately, but he startles me with a "hey, babe" from the kitchen. I didn't realize we were those people.
"Hey, you seem... alert."
"Yeah, it's been a crazy afternoon," he smiles, a coffee cup in hand and hair effortlessly brushed over his forehead, gorgeous. He could have just scraped himself from the couch and I wouldn't have ever known. It's still taking some time to get used to that, to him in my kitchen with a sexy smile and coffee and perfect hair just waiting for me; just a tad overly-domestic. "I have amazing news."
He kisses my cheek and his smile gets even bigger.
"Those guys from New England everyone's been raging about, Four Year Strong, just lost their drummer and need a few weeks to regroup before taking their gig at that new underground club The Prompt that's been looking pretty hot lately, lots of good rising bands. It's tomorrow, so short notice, but they want Shooting Star to headline it. They've been promoting this things for weeks!"
His eyes are glowing like the first time I met him, when he first saw me play.
"That's great!" I say, trying to match his enthusiasm through my exhaustion. I want him to continue with the band and his music, not mope around me like he has been. I want him to have fun and do what he loves.
"And, I know we haven't had time to practice much lately, but I just called Liz and the guys. I'm heading over and should be late, but I will be back," he assures.
I tell him that he'd be crazy not to. I smile and let him kiss me and swing me around the room as his raspy edgy music plays dull in the background from the kitchen, like it always does. And when he lays me on the couch, I feel breathless. I slip the thin grey henley up and over my shoulders as he takes me in, bringing his lips to mine as his hands roam.
His breath is hot and ragged against my shoulder as I stroke his, soaking in the dewey afternoon, blinds drawn and heat turned up just enough to keep my naked toes toasty like the rest of me, beside his similar form. My fingertips cross the thin tickling of hair on his chest again, just as they did last night, and I part my lips slightly as words fill their tender womb.
"How would you feel if I came tomorrow?"
His eyebrows furrowed like he was worried and I stroked his cheek with my thumb.
"I've just been thinking about it a lot," I admit. I mean, what else am I gonna do following you around after graduation? Sit in the van?"
He laughs. "Maybe." I frown. "Honestly, I don't know what you planned. You never liked my shows before."
"That's not true," I counter. "Halloween was the most fun I've had in a while. And you are a fantastic musician. And I love you. Can't I come, tomorrow?"
"I am never going to pass up seeing you. I just want you to enjoy yourself, that's all."
"It feels right," I say, finding his eyes deep in my capture, the blue hazy yet more clear than they've been in a while.
He takes my chin in his hands and kisses me deeply, with all of himself, and I feel his heart through his skin telling me those three words we all want from someone. It's entirely consuming and distracting and whimsical and he makes me laugh because he's acting like a giddy child, but it's mesmerizing.
A/N: Please comment. Let me know how you liked the chapter. It was supposed to be longer, but I decided I liked where this scene ended, wanting to add the remaining scene to the next chapter, so you'll see it later. I promise.