Chapter 2: Beautiful Blue-Eyed Boys
That night, they sat under the pecan tree in Marie's backyard. Lightly veiled by the wispy clouds, the moon shed a faint glow upon them and a slight breeze was rustling through the trees with the aroma of magnolia blossoms tagging along. Beside him, Marie looked more blissful than he had ever seen her and slowly, he took her hand.
Bare skin firm against bare skin and he couldn't resist stroking her palm. She turned toward him, tense, and said quietly,
"What are you doing here, Bobby?"
"I don't understand why you left," he answered, running a finger along her thumb.
She stopped him, gently pressing down on his hand and saying, "We're not what we used to be."
Standing up, she untied a thin cardigan from around her waist and slipped it over her pale shoulders, barricading herself again and the gesture hurt him more than she would ever guess. He looked up at her with a set jaw while she directed her attention toward the moon, her loosely swept up hair slowly unraveling from its bun.
"Ya'll need a place to sleep tonight," she mused aloud. "We don't have a guest room but there's a motel'bout five minutes from here."
She faced him and asked nonchalantly, "Are ya stayin'tomorrow too?"
"As a matter of fact, I am," he responded, sounding almost defiant.
"Well, Ah'm goin'to bed now so see ya latah, sugah," she said over her shoulder as she started to head back to the house, leaving him underneath a darkening moon.
Marie collapsed on her bed, groaning, "Oh Gawd," into her pillow. He thinks Ah need help again. He thinks Ah need his help. For once Bobby, why can't ya just leave a traumatized person in peace? She rolled over and smiled bitterly at the ceiling. Ah don't need any of your psychology Iceman.
She undressed quickly, shedding her clothes like a snake and pulling a nightgown over her head. In her bed again, she tried to close her eyes and sleep. It was impossible. Damned beautiful blue-eyed boys.
Instead, she found herself sitting at her dressing table, staring into the mirror and watching herself trace the green lace that bordered the nightgown's neckline.
She found herself remembering that she had once wanted to touch and be touched so badly, she had willingly surrendered a part of herself just to feel the texture of skin whether it'd be rough or smooth. Just so she could borrow a pencil without wearing gloves that made her sweat. Just so she could fully hug someone or kiss her boyfriend without him ending up forever cold and dead.
But she was happy now She could hug her momma and kiss her momma for cooking up the foods she had missed the most. She could kiss Bobby. But she didn't have to. After all, she didn't take the Cure for him.