Burn

Four

Letter

The last few weeks have been torturous. Kit, Derek, Simon, and Tori's dad, keeps constantly dragging me to Simon's soccer games. Tori and Liz make me accompany them on their weekly shopping trips but Derek, thankfully, lets me hang up in his room and teaches me to play Chinese checkers.

Those afternoons are peaceful and quiet, not loud and busy.

Derek and I spend the afternoons making science at-home projects and watching sci-fi movies on his old TV. I can lounge in my pajamas pants and his old sweatshirts and feel comfortable; he lounges in sweats and ratty t-shirts.

"I want ice cream," he says one afternoon as we settle down to watch a classic, Night of the Living Dead.

"Do you have cookie dough?" I ask innocently; his soft grin makes my heart speed up. It's been years since I left Royce and never once have I felt so comfortable around a boy, not even my dad.

I watch Derek take his leave and flop onto my back.

"You can't have him," Royce whispers in my ear.

I jump and look around.

"Why not? Y-you aren't here anymore," I hiss, anger bubbling up like a faucet; I deserve to be happy, to be with someone who won't hurt me.

"I love you, Chloe, and I will never let you go. I loved you the minute I laid eyes on you and I was a goner. You should never doubt my love!" The voice is so loud that I do a sweep of the area, making sure he isn't standing behind me.

"I'll never be yours again."

A laugh sends my skin crawling; that laugh promised so much pain and fear. "We'll see," he tells me in a tone he used all the time, when I was being, what he deemed, particularly stubborn.

"You want the carton, right?"

Swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, I look up at him. "Derek?" I say softly and his smile drops fast as he sets down the little cartons and flops down next to me. "You won't let him get me, will you?" I ask as tears fill my vision.

"No, never." His nostrils flare and I can see the tiny hairs on his top lip, like the fur I grew when I got too paranoid to so much as eat.

I smile a little, relaxing as the paranoia washes away. "Thank you."

"For what?" He sits down with the cartons and starts to dig into his.

I tilt my head up so I can meet his green, green eyes. "For being you."

After that, we settle in the nest of blankets and sheets to watch zombies eat people's brains.

The letter comes in the mail, in a nondescript envelope with a Buffalo New York stamp.

Derek's sitting on the counter, trying to find green apples in the fruit basket.

I'm laughing as I rip open the paper, hearing it tear. The smell of his cologne hits me strongly and I sway.

Derek's arms wind around me and hold me steady.

"He sent me a letter," I whimper out quietly. "A goddamn letter." My hands are shaking too much to pry out the wrinkled paper so Derek does it for me.

Seeing his sloppy, familiar handwriting sends a painful bolt through me, sizzling me. I'm aware that my jaw hurts from clenching.

"I miss you. I love you. I'll always love you. You'll always be mine. You're a rare gem, a beauty, and we're meant to be. From the moment I saw you that day, I knew you had to be were so innocent, so inexperienced, Chloe. I molded you. I was your first and you were mine. I loved you from the minute I saw you. You looked like an angel, fallen straight from heaven, and I couldn't believe you weren't locked with someone," he read in a low, tight voice. He shudders and his breathing shifts. Is he gathering his wits?

Clearing his throat, he continues. "I knew I had to act so I introduced myself. I kept my feelings hidden because they'd scare you away, and I couldn't bear to not have you in my arms. I ache even know thinking about when you left. Chloe, this isn't your fault. You know I love you, and I'd never leave you willingly. You should know that."

A snort, low and angry.

"That's why I'll find you. This is about us, not you and I as separates, and I won't let some disgusting piece of shit touch you, defile you. You're my one and only, Chloe. I can't live without you. Fuck, it hurts being away from you," he murmurs, and his voice is thick with emotion. Anger? Fear?

"I went to the funeral. I hid in the back of the crowd so you wouldn't see me. I still think you're beautiful. Even with those scars, you're beautiful to me." Derek's breathing is harsh in my ear now.

Tears drip down my face and stain the paper as I tremble.

"Of course, I understand why you left. Too many memories. I'm so sorry about your father. But I'm here, and I'll always love you. Looking at you brought back so many memories. The way your eyes lit up when you saw me, the soft taste of your lips, how readily you fell into me when we made love. I still think about it; nothing on earth could compare to making love with an angel like you."

He growls, a threatening sound that has my hair standing on end, and I squeeze my arms around myself until I hurt.

"I know you went away because of the memories, but I won't stop until you're in my arms again. Just like before. I'm yours until the end; you're mine until the end. If you left me because you didn't want me or because you found someone else...I don't know what I'd do. I hate to cut this short—there's so much I wanna tell you—but I'm running out of space. I'll see you soon. Always yours, Royce Banks." His whisper echoes around us and my fear skyrockets.

I dissolve into tears as Derek carefully folds up the paper and tucks it back into the envelope. "Oh my god, Derek!" I shriek and turn to my best friend, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. This is my worst nightmare; I thought I'd be able to put him behind me...

His sad, green eyes meet mine. "Chloe," he breathes out my name on a cloud.

It rings in my ears. "He's found me! Nonono!" I can't stop crying now, tears and snot running down my face, staining my lips, my cheeks; my eyes start to ache and a pounding spreads through my temples viciously.

"Chloe," Derek says again, sharply.

I shrink back, mind shuffling back to a time where Royce would scream my name, over and over, his voice raw by the end, madness in his eyes—no, betrayal and anger.

"We have to give this to the police," the new black-haired boy in my life tells me softy, taking my hand. He strokes my skin as I dab at my eyes, wiping away tears and snot.

I know I look like a mess, with my uncombed, stringy hair, dull eyes and now snot running down my face.

"Y-Yeah." My voice cracks halfway and tears build up again. "I was so careful. I didn't say a word to anyone before we left."

He reaches out for me and grips my biceps, dragging me into his warm, hard chest. His heartbeat is drumming, b-bump, b-bump, b-bump, like a song, just for me.

He smells like perspiration and warm, fresh-out-of-the-laundry cotton and it comforts me, calming down my racing heart. His solid arms are around my back, giant hands rubbing gentle circles and his voice vibrates through his chest and into my cheek.

"Ssh, it's okay, it's okay. If he so much as looks at you, I'll kill him."

I smile to myself as Derek sways, making me sway in turn, just the two of us swaying, dancing almost, in an imaginary breeze.

"We're meant to be. We're what killed the dinosaurs. I'll never stop loving you," Royce says.

I squeeze my eyes shut and dig my nails into Derek's back, whimpering softly. He murmurs to me and strokes my hair the way Mom used to, wiggling his fingers through the tangles of knots.

Once I've calmed down, I splash water on my face and comb back my hair with my wet hands. Sniffling slightly, I watch Derek hold his hand out to me, his big hand with its scars and faint scar from a rat dog bit him when he was thirteen, and slip mine into his.

They fit like long lost puzzle pieces.