Chapter 11
Molly sat in the bathroom of her school, and tried not to get another panic attack. She sat in a stall, hoping to not be seen or heard. But that didn't stop her ears from hearing. She heard two cheerleaders talking, their free lifestyles and their small minded gossip.
"Did you hear about that Corrinthos kid? I hear he's damn good in bed," one girl commented.
"Well, what do you expect? I hear his father has slept with every rich woman in town. He's like a fucking sex freak."
"I know."
Molly felt smart when listening to those girls. The way they talked, they sounded like the bitches from Clueless, or some other chick flick about fashionable bimbos. She never wanted to be like that. But she was also jealous, those girls had it easy.
"You should have been in gym class yesterday. Michael is such a freak."
"What did he do?"
"He like threw a ball at David and broke his nose, and he didn't even apologize."
"What a jerk," one girl said in disgust.
"Yeah, and he even laughed afterward. They tried to suspend him but his father bribed the principle. So now he's still in school but they're not letting him participate in physical activities."
"Serves him right."
"But did you see David's face. He's got a black eye and everything. And his nose is all blue and all. He looks so funny."
"David's a geek, he so deserved it. Idiot couldn't even catch a ball."
"I know, right?"
Molly wanted to gag after hearing the conversation. Such hypocrites. One minute they were talking about how what Michael did was wrong, yet the next they were making fun of his innocent victim.
She heard the facet turn on and water running, it's soft chime against the loudness of the two bimbets.
"Did you hear about that chick who got raped? Molly or is it?"
"Yeah, I heard. She like voluntarily slept with the guy and then accused him of rape. What a bitch?"
"I know. And she's like blackmailing that guy with something so she could gold dig him."
Molly felt tears sting her eyes. Those low class bitches knew nothing about her, yet they felt the need to insult her behind her back. She felt her heart contract and explode with sadness and emotion as she tried to hold in a sob. She didn't want the girl's to know she was there, listening. She didn't want to see their fake smiles and listen to their fake sympathy.
"Did you hear, Molly even slept with Michael's dad. She's such a slut. I wonder whose the daddy of her baby."
"What? She's pregnant?"
"Uh-um. She also has AIDS."
"Oh, remind me to stay away from her. She's probably contagious."
She heard the door open and then close, and the bathroom grew quite. Those ignorant bitches! How could they? None of it was true, Molly thought. But then she looked down and tears slipped from her eyes. She still didn't know the results of the STD test.
---
The rumor mill was circling all morning, Michael thought as he sat at his desk in English class. He had just been transferred to a different English class because the last teacher couldn't stand his guts. He still knew most of the student's though. He sat in the full room, and glanced at the only empty seat in the room.
God he was tired. That lack of sleep was catching up with him, obviously. And he couldn't remember the last time he felt so bad.
No, wait. Two weeks ago. He felt like shit two weeks ago. And he was once again feeling that way. He was no longer happy, and he could sense agitation as it wrapped around him like a bounding ribbon, meant for strangulation.
He lifted his head when he saw the door open, and Molly stood frozen in the doorway.
She was beautiful, he noted. But she was also scared.
---
Embarrassed, shameful, regretful. She stared at her classmates, hoping they didn't see her. Notice her. God, she wished she could be invisible.
Someone looked at her, then another. People were looking.
Embarrassed. Molly breathed in, she notices she was breathing rapidly. Her pulse was racing. Her heart was jumping inside her chest as if a shot of adrenaline was pumped inside of her. Her knees grew weak, her head began to spun dizzily. She felt her lungs burn, she was starting to wheeze. She needed to run.
Hide.
Disappear.
She needed to run.
---
Michael watched as she dashed out of the doorway and somewhere into the hall.
"What's wrong with her?" one guy asked another behind him.
"I don't know. She's like insane or something."
Michael had heard that talk before. But in high school, he came up with the conclusion that everybody was insane, they certainly accused each other with it.
He stood up. This damn class wasn't worth it anyway. None of his friends were here. Not in this class at least. He grabbed his backpack and walked toward the door.
"Michael," the teacher said in a commanding voice. "Michael, where are you going?"
He didn't respond but instead walked out. As he looked in both directions of the long hallway, he saw her walking, wheezing, stumbling.
He walked toward her, as sadness filled him. He's been awfully sad for the last twenty or so hours. It came out of nowhere, a sadness and worthlessness that he couldn't shake. He missed the happiness. The obsessive, high happiness.
He came toward her and put a soft hand on her shoulder. Why would she listen to him anyway? And what would he have to say to begin with? He felt hopeless. But the girl was hurting and he wanted to help. Sadness seemed to understand sadness. And the girl looked sad.
"What's wrong?" he asked but she stumbled and shook her head, still wheezing.
He assumed she couldn't talk at the moment so he pushed her softly against a locker. "Sit."
She slid down to the floor as instructed.
"Stay," he said as he ran across the hall to his locker. Michael pulled out his brown bagged lunch and pulled all the stuff from the bag. Once the brown bag was empty, he closed his locker and ran back to Molly.
"Here," he gave her the bag and she put it over her nose and mouth.
She breathed in and out, slower and slower each time. Michael watched with fascination, and he was surprised that he had done something right, but he was no hero, not by a long shot. He stood and watched her, the shining redness of her curly hair. In the sunlight coming from one window, he could see the luster. And when she glanced up at him, her green eyes gazed into him, into his soul. Michael felt something he hadn't felt before, ever. For the moment, he wanted to touch her hair, just to see how it felt against his skin. He wanted to touch her cheek, her skin. But he didn't know how to. Despite the rumors floating around, he was a virgin. Shit, he hadn't even dated. Most woman were repelled by his mood swings and his family.
He hoped this one wasn't like all the others. Slowly, he kneeled down next to her and touched her arm. A flash of heat flowed into him and he felt his heart pulse faster. "Are you okay?" he asked hoping his voice didn't show the breathlessness he felt.
She lowered the paper bag and looked at him with a look so sincere he felt something sting inside of him. Something sad yet beautiful.
"Thank you," she said quietly as she handed him the paper bag and tried to smile though her lips trembled.
He was fixated by the trembling, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He felt something. Something unfamiliar. Something he didn't know and couldn't identify. But it was strong. A strong, very strong feeling.
"Come on," he said and he took her hand and pulled her up. "I'll walk you to class."
She shook her head. "Anywhere but there."
He nodded and slowly but surely slipped his hand around her and placed it on the small of her back. "Okay, so lets ditch then."
After they both got their jackets, they left. And ten minutes later, she was safe at home while Michael walked around the park, trying to figure out that feeling that was just born inside of him.
---
She didn't know where he was taking her, so she chose to wear blue jeans that made her legs look longer, and high healed boots that added to the same effect. The sweater she wore was black and cashmere, and with the gold hoops and her red leather jacket, the look was complete. Her makeup blended nicely, her hair had it's full volume and soft waves, and she tried not to look eager as she paced the floor of her apartment waiting for him to arrive.
Damn it, it was only six fifteen. Why was she pacing like a lunatic, waiting for him to show up early.
Eager.
She was too eager to see him, she realized as she walked back and forth waiting for him.
She had rescheduled the important meeting she had, but after much consideration, she decided to go back to her high school days and claim she had a cold rather then be honest about her reasons.
Her life was becoming complicated. But she chose to avoid all thoughts of those complications.
A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door and Sam opened quickly.
"Hi," Jason said as he smiled at her. "I see you're ready."
They walked to the car together, and as Sam sat down, she saw a blanket laying in the backseat. She wondered as to why he had one. "Where are you taking me?"
"To see the sunset," he answered with a smile.
"Yeah, but where?"
"You'll see."
"Well, I do like surprises," she said and smiled.
Through the ride, they had some small talk and discussed their lives. Sam was surprised to learn that Jason has suffered through an accident and that he was brain damaged.
He had told her about how his family was disappointed that he couldn't remember his love for them, and that the first person who accepted him as he was was his sister, Emily.
"You'd like her," he said and gave her a sideways glance. "She's a really nice person who likes to help others. You might actually know her too. She works at the hospital."
"Really? I don't know any doctors named Emily Morgan."
"Oh," Jason said through a grin. "Her name is Emily Quartermain."
"Why is her name different?"
"Because after my accident I decided to change my name." He told her about how he rebelled against them trying to mold him into who he was instead of who he chose to be. And with the rebellion came a new name. He told her about his grandmother, and how she died.
And when it was Sam's turn to speak, she told him about her life too.
"Did you always know you wanted to be a psychologist?" Jason asked.
"I grew up in a not so good neighborhood and I saw a lot of things. I didn't want to go on without doing something about it. So I became a psychologist. I figured I could help people with their personal problems, kids in particular."
"But isn't the job stressful?" He turned into a parking lot and Sam examined her surroundings.
"This is beautiful," she said forgetting his question.
He got out of the car and grabbed the blanket. Together, they walked through the concrete until they reached the white sands of the beach. It was cold outside, and the beach was completely abandoned. The waves of the water crashed against the sand and whatever rocks were around. The luster of the setting sun's rays made the water shimmer in it's most magnificent detail.
Jason set the blanket on the sand and pulled out his cell phone. "I don't want to be interrupted," he said as he turned it off and put it back into his pocket.
Sam knew that not many people could call her so she didn't repeat the process. She had left her purse at home, and her cell phone, a wallet, and a lipstick were all placed nicely into the pockets of her jacket.
Jason sat down on the blanket and spread and bent his legs. "Come on," he patted the spot on the blanket between his legs and she sat down.
He wrapped his legs around her and she rested her arms on his knees. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back closer to his chest.
Even through all the fabric, Sam tried to feel the beating of his heart on her back but all she could feel was her own. Unless she closed her eyes and concentrated, then she could feel his, soft and soothing. He pressed his face into her hair and his breathing chilled the skin under her ear. She felt an erotic chill run down her back and felt all desire ever denied pulse into her.
"This is beautiful," he whispered against her skin.
She looked at the orange sky and the green blue water. The white sands and the none stop sparkling all around. It was nature's most beautiful design.
"It is," she said and felt his strong arms around her. She liked his touch. Loved his touch. Craved his touch.
They sat in silence, absorbing each other's presence, and watching as the sky went from blue to yellow and the sun expanded and lowered toward the horizon.
"Have you called your sister, yet?" Jason asked out of the blue, and his voice indicated real concern and care.
"No," she answered in a voice so low, she was surprised he had heard her. "I'm afraid she wouldn't want anything to do with me. I mean look at it, we grew up not knowing each other. Would she want to know me now? Would it be better if I left it all alone?"
"You're nervous," he explained and it surprised her that he knew that. After knowing her for so little, he seemed to really know her.
"Yeah, I'm nervous," she admitted to him.
"You wanna know something?" He whispered into her ear. "After your first date, I was too nervous to call you."
That took her a little by surprise, because he didn't seem like the type to let nerves get in the way. And besides, didn't he say he was brain damaged?
"I wasn't sure if you would like a second date. But I called anyway, I needed to know."
"I'm glad you called me." She gazed at the horizon as the sun slipped lower and it seemed to melt into the blue water.
"I'm glad I could share this with somebody special," he whispered as the wind blew. His voice and the wind collided, forming a melody that was sweet to her ears.
"Are you saying I'm special?" she asked flirtatiously.
"Does the response have to be verbal?" he returned her flirtatious manner.
Sam turned slightly and tilted her head so she could see his face. "Not necessarily," she said.
In the setting sunlight, and the dim sparkle that now cradled the earth, his eyes were blueish green, a shade she hadn't seen before. She knew that exposure to light can sometimes alter the eye color for a few minutes, but that only applied to blue eyed or grey eyed people. She's never seen that happen, only heard about it. But now her eyes were granted the gift of seeing the beauty in him.
His face floated toward her, and her eye lids grew heavy. She felt her heart rate increase measurably as his face fell upon hers.
She parted her lips, and felt his breath on her skin. His bottom lip brushed against hers, but unlike last time, it didn't stop. No interruptions took place this time.
He teased her with his lips, softly touching hers but no giving anything more. Then when the temptation grew heavy, Sam felt her body get warmer by like ten degrees. His mouth on hers, he ran his tongue over the inside of her bottom lip and then entered her mouth. She felt his taste. His hunger. His thirst.
Her eyes closed and she felt a liquid feeling sting behind her eye lids. This was so intimate, so special. She never wanted it to end.
His hands moved from around her body and he put his hands in her hair. She loved the feel of him exploring her, learning about her, studying her. She felt his heart beat heavily as she put her hand on his chest. Felt his attraction for her.
Moving her hand upward, she touched his cheek, his neck, then his cheek again. She couldn't decide what she wanted to touch more, feel more, explore more.
She felt her heart beat wildly as his tongue explored her mouth. She tasted him, he tasted her.
"I never imagined it could be like this," he whispered as he pulled away from her mouth and caught his breath. Too bad she couldn't do the same. She had her mouth open, begging for air to enter her lungs, yet she held her breath as his mouth traveled to her neck.
She kept her eyes closed, and drew herself closer to him. Sam tilted her head for better access and moaned when he left a trail of kisses. His hands untied the belt on her jacket, and unzipped the zipper.
He pushed the sides of her jacket aside and rested his hands on her sweater, feeling the contours of her skin.
Jason kissed her neck and left a trail of kisses down to her collarbone. She tried not to sigh or moan, but couldn't hold it in. Her chest hurt with the need to feel him, skin against skin. He had awakened a desire inside her, and like a flame, it grew. Like a fire, it burned. And she didn't want to set the fire out. No, she wanted it to grow.