IN TOO DEEP

CHAPTER 14

CHRISTIAN POINT OF VIEW

I find myself unable to sleep tonight.

Reaching over across the mattress, I check my phone for the time while it's plugged in the charger. I sigh loudly. It's already 1.30 in the morning and still, I feel wide-awake, my thoughts going fast and constant like a freight train inside my head.

I think I know why. It's because of her, it's all her fault.

Anastasia. I've never been more aware and attuned of another persons presence before. I've never been more aware that someone else other than my daughter is inside the house, someone else is inside the other room.

I run my fingers through my hair as I sit up slowly, propping myself up against the head board. I can't help wondering about her. Is she sleeping soundly right now? Or is she, by any miraculous chance, wide-awake like I am, with sleep evading her?

Is she comfortable enough in my daughter's bed? Is she warm enough? Does she need an extra few sets of pillows?

Remembering the events of earlier, the kiss, then our trying conversation, it's like a punch to my gut. It had been hard, incredibly difficult telling her that we had to be responsible, that we could not do anything about this attraction, her crush. I never knew something could be so fucking hard. But of course, it was the right thing to do, the fair thing. Or so I keep trying to tell myself. There's just... too much complications and things in the way. I had to be the adult, I had to control myself, make sure we behave like sensible human beings. Well, me particularly.

While I'd become aware, suspicious, that Anastasia had grown to have something of a crush on me, considering her reactions to me, how encouraging and supportive she was, it seems almost funny to know now that I was right, that she had basically confirmed it herself tonight. It feels odd to think someone like her can possibly have a crush on me, when she's so young, she's so intelligent and beautiful. She has her entire fucking life ahead of her and yet, astoundingly, by her own admission, she finds me to be amazing.

I suppose it is ironic, how life turns out. You can go from being so down in the dumps, perceiving yourself as pathetic, unworthy, a failure at women and relationships due to a divorce and yet, there's someone out there that surprisingly deems you literally the bee's knees.

It's tragic too, in a sense. I'd forgotten what it's like to actually talk to someone, to establish a somewhat enjoyable, innocent friendship with them. It's been a long time since I'd been close to a woman, even if that young woman so happens to be my daughter's friend. It's a shame because, what I feel in regards to Anastasia, I feel we have a rare, easy connection with each other.

I enjoy speaking with her immensely. I find her extremely beautiful. She's inquisitive and she feeds off my knowledge; My knowledge of music, like introducing her to Frank. To books. It's a rare thing, I believe, to find someone who you can feel like you can teach something to and bring something worthy to the table.

Sadly, for the sake of being sensible human beings, nothing just can be done.

My phone screen lights up with a buzz, startling me away from my thoughts. Now who could be texting me at this hour?

Reaching over, I grab my phone again, unlocking it. I stifle a surprised laugh to myself. Of all people, it's Anastasia. Apparently she's in the same predicament as I am, it would seem. I open the text, reading it out loud beneath my breath:

I can't sleep.

She's also sent a face that looks shy.

I breathe out a sigh of relief, relieved that at least I'm not the only one stuck wide-awake and feeling shit about it. I know I should be encouraging her, I should tell her to sleep, yet I can't help myself.

I write back:

You and I are in the same boat then. Are you warm enough? Need more pillows or blankets?

I hit send before I have the time to consider how stupid it sounds. What am I, her fucking concerned parent? Her father? Considering the way I've grown to feel about her, I'm confident I am neither of those things.

She replied barely 30 seconds later. The girl is fast with her technology.

Is it weird if I ask to sleep in your bed with you?

I feel my heart seize in my chest at her text. She's asking to sleep in my bed with me? Unexpected.

Another quick text:

I just can't get comfortable in the room by myself.

I hesitate, wondering on where to go from here. It would be wrong and it would completely erase my efforts in being a so-called sensible human being if I did agree to let her sleep in the bed with me. And yet, there's something in the way she wrote it that makes me feel it is a completely harmless, innocent request. I've been so uncertain on controlling myself around her, I think I've been managing quite well considering. What harm would it do, if it's just a matter of her feeling comfortable and safe enough to sleep well for the night?

I type back with a slow thumb: Okay?

Then I wait, clicking my phone off, darkening the room again. I'm wearing clothes- an old sloppy T-shirt and shorts, it isn't like it would be totally inappropriate. If I were naked, then of course, it would be another story entirely.

I lean my head back against the head board, listening carefully. Then I hear a floorboard creak outside the door and the sound of her tapping the wood gently.

"Come in," I call as loud as I can.

The door opens, and she doesn't shut it. I catch myself holding my breath as I hear her footsteps moving across the bed. I can tell she didn't put back on her socks; Her bare feet slap against the floorboards.

"Are you all right?" I ask with concern, sliding back with my feet to make room for her.

I feel her pull back the sheets, then slide in the covers. The mattress squeaks. I'm still holding my breath as I feel her move and get comfortable on the spare set of pillows next to me in the dark.

"Sorry, I, um, just... can't sleep right now," I hear her murmur in the dark, her voice softer, hesitant. "I hope this is okay?"

"Anastasia, it's fine," I assure her, turning in the dark to where the sound of her voice came from, blinking heavily. I can't see her at all, it's impossible.

But then she makes sure I feel her with what she does next.

Suddenly, the mattress lurches as she shoves her bare feet up against mine. Her heels are smooth against mine, but that isn't the reason why I'm unable to not exclaim out loud with an unnerved laugh. It's her feet. They're fucking freezing.

"Jesus, it's no wonder you're finding it hard to sleep. Your toes are absolutely freezing." Her soft laughter at that makes me smile and, growing more comfortable, I manage to slide down to rest my head against my pillow. I shove an arm behind my head, trying to keep still as humanly possible. Anastasia keeps her feet nestled up in between mine.

"What's your favorite smell?" Anastasia asks suddenly out of nowhere, startling me. What kind of question is that?

I struggle not to laugh, wondering where that came from. "That small sip of alcohol I gave you, has it affected you?" I ask, trying to make a good joke out of it.

"Um, no." I can tell she's smiling in the dark; Just a sense, an intuition I have. "At least I don't think it has. But seriously, I want to know."

"You want to know what my favorite smell is, Anastasia?" I laugh again shortly, even although I know now that she's obviously being deadly serious. I try to suppress anymore laughs or smiles as I think her question over. "Honestly, I don't know how to answer that, I don't believe I've even considered that before. Why? What's your favorite smell?"

"Roses, I think. Roses and Chinese food, probably."

If anyone had told me I'd be doing this, having a person in the bed I used to share with my bitch of an ex wife after so long, I would laughed out loud and not believed them. It's humorous to think here I am now, with my daughter's friend in the bed beside me, not sleeping alone for once while she quizzes me with an outrageous question.

"Your bed's definitely a lot more comfortable than Kate's," Anastasia whispers after a moment. "And warmer, too."

"You should have told me so I could have put more blankets on the bed." It comes too late, that what-the-fuck are-you-doing feeling. I stare up at the ceiling as it comes to me, Anastasia's toes stroking against my shin. Her toes are feeling warmer at the very least.

"Do you find it hard being in the house alone when Kate's not here?" she asks.

"Sometimes," I admit with a sigh. "Occasionally, but... focusing on other things usually makes it more tolerable. Sometimes I like to be alone."

"Hmm." She's silent for a moment, and I'm silent as well, listening carefully in the dark. I think I can hear her breathing. "I forgot about your books," she mutters, as if only just remembering. "Your Gatsby and Revolutionary Road books that you lent me? I forgot to give them back now that I'm finished with them?"

"It's fine. You can keep them if you want?"

"Really? I can keep them?"

"They were just sitting around, gathering dust anyway. Kate's not interested in them."

"Thank you, that would be great. I really wouldn't mind reading them again, so that helps." Then she asks, "Do you think you'll ever remarry eventually?"

I swallow hard at the question, mashing my lips together in a tight line. The question, it's certainly... surprising. And unexpected. Then again, if there's certain things I've learned while talking to Anastasia, it's that she has a tendency to surprise me with her thoughtfulness. And often. '

"I'm not sure I can answer that,"I simply tell her.

"Oh, why not?"

"I just don't like thinking about it, to be perfectly honest."

"Does it make you uncomfortable? Sorry."

"No, it doesn't make me uncomfortable exactly." I shift over on my pillow, turning on my side. I think I can only just see her in the dark. I can only just make out the outline of her pale face on the pillow, her dark long hair around her. "I just honestly don't know how to answer that question." I try to think of how to explain it adequately to her without confusing her. "It's just... I've been through it once. I'm not so sure I ever want to go through it again." I lick my lips, thinking it over. "Once was enough for me and, considering how enormously it failed the 1st time around, I can't see myself willing to risk it again."

"Not even if it's with someone you feel is right for you?"

"Maybe not even then. I just don't want to risk it."

"I guess that makes sense."

To my relief, she doesn't ask anymore about it. Perhaps she senses my unease?

"And what about you?" I ask curiously, even although it seems rather silly, asking her. She's still young. What would she know? "Do you think you'll ever marry once you find a handsome young man that's capable of sweeping you up off your feet?"

"I haven't really thought about it, because... it seems so weird thinking about things like that." She laughs breathlessly in the dark. "I mean, who thinks that so far ahead into the future?"

"Well, have you worked out what you want to do yet?" I ask her, moving the topic along. "As far as after high school goes? I know Katherine is interested in attending University?"

I hear Anastasia inhale loudly at my question. "Yeah, I... I still don't know yet. But Kate and I have definitely talked about going to the same college and University together, if we can."

"Then that's good. You and Kate would do well trying to attend the same places together." I hope I don't come across of patronizing to her and yet, it's a hard habit to break when it comes to this subject, "Educations always important, as you no doubt already know..."

"Yeah, can I, um... ask you something?" The change in her tone captures my attention. Just like that, Anastasia sounds nervous.

"Of course. What is it?"

"I hope it isn't too much to ask or too personal but... what happened to your chest?" I feel my heart begin to race in apprehension at her words. Why does she have to want to know about this? "I've noticed the sort of... scars and was curious. Did you have some sort of accident or something?"

I've never exactly spoken to anyone about this before, not even my very own daughter. Katherine has never asked me about how I came to have the scars either, which honestly, is a relief. The bitch ex, I merely said some quick response to get her to never ask about it ever again. Even now, I am still not totally comfortable speaking about it.

"I had a... rough childhood, that's all," I simply say.

"Oh. What do you mean by 'Rough' exactly?"

Should I tell her? A part of me wants to shut her down completely, yet another part of me... feels tempted to be honest about it for once. Like I've noticed on a few occasions, Anastasia has this thing about her where you want to tell her everything, discomfort be damned.

"Well, I was... put in foster care at a young age. My father, I never knew him, but... my mother." I hesitate, breathing in deeply. "My mother had a lot of substance abuse issues. I know that, even while pregnant with me, she was addicted to drugs. The scars were from..." I decide not to tell her the entire gory details, mainly for my own peace of mind. I'd rather keep it simple instead. "I suffered... abuse, at a very young age. At around 4 or 5 years old. I an't exactly remember how old I had been at the time. It was so... long ago now."

I stop, waiting for Anastasia to say something. She's quiet in the dark for a disturbingly long moment, and I begin to fear that perhaps I've said too much?

"Oh," she finally replies, my heart easing off with the dread. "Then I'm sorry."

Sorry? Why would she be sorry? "Why are you sorry?"

"Because it's... sad that you had to go through something like that. And I'm also sorry because..." she stops for a moment, her voice pensive, "I hate to think your life started like that. Well, that anyone's life could start like that, really."

The mattress makes a noise below us, and then it occurs to me that Anastasia has rolled onto her side, facing me. She tucks her knees in slightly so that they brush against my thighs. I'd forgotten I had seen her wearing shorts when she'd gotten ready to sleep in my daughters bed earlier.

And then she goes and takes it a step further.

My breath hitches in my throat when I see the shadow of her arm as she lifts it up, and then she holds her hand over the side of my face, stroking me. Her hand is warm, her skin soft.

Jesus. Is she deliberately trying to cause me to suffer by tempting me?

"Anastasia," I begin to warn her nervously, because I know if she-

She strokes the side of my face with her thumb repetitively, gently. "What? I'm not doing anything. I just want to..."

I realize what she's trying to do when she shifts slightly closer on her side, sharing my pillow, until I feel her forehead press up against mine, the soft short strands of her fringe tickling my forehead. She remains there for a long moment, not moving, keeping her forehead pressed to mine, her thumb stroking around my cheekbone. Then she'll turn her hand only to use her knuckles to scrape them gently around my chin.

I'm reduced to simply staring at the dark outline of her face in the shadows, stunned, perplexed and wide-eyed at her behavior, at what she's doing. She doesn't mean it to be tempting or sexual, it occurs to me. This is her way of comforting me. For the 1st time in so many fucking years, someone is actually comforting me over my fucked-up childhood, and is making me feel better in their own way.

"You asked earlier tonight if I found you attractive, Anastasia," I mumble thoughtlessly, and I think I see her eyes open slowly at my words.

I can see them shining in the dark, and in another circumstance, I might have found it fucking unnerving, the close proximity with both our heads on my pillow, yet right now, it's soothing to me.

"The answers yes, but... not for the obvious reasons." I shouldn't be saying it, yet I feel inspired, inspired and deeply touched by her demonstration of solace. "Your beautiful, and young. Inquisitive, intelligent, yes. But that isn't just what makes you so." I swallow audibly when I feel her thumb tracing down my ear, my jaw. "It's... how kind-hearted you are, as well. I feel I rarely come across that nowadays in my life."

SORRY I ONLY HAD SHORT TIME TO WRITE THIS AND GET THIS BIT OUT, HOPE YOU DON'T MIND :) I WILL UPDATE AGAIN LONGER IN A FEW DAYS, HOPE IT'S NOT TOO BAD OR CHEESY ARGH