Sparrow (7 page)

“Were
you safe?” she finally asks.

“Absolutely.” 
I tilt my head.  “You?”

She
nods.  “The whole experience was a disaster, though.”

“A
disaster?”

She
shrugs.

I
lower my shoulders, so I can look her straight in the eye.  “Then, why do you
want to do this with me?”

A
sly smile lifts the corner of her mouth.  “Because everything is different with
you.  I can’t get enough.”  Her hands, which still rest inside my shorts, pull
me against her.  “All you have to do is look at me and I know I’m yours.”

I’m
yours. 
Her
words are a whisper against my lips, and there’s nothing left to do but kiss
her.  I move my hands to cradle her face, devour her mouth, and plan on making
this last as long as possible.

I
roll on to my side and punch the pillow.  Again.  I can’t sleep, and it’s
useless to try.  Tonight is my last at Buhl Lake.  In the morning, I leave for
home and a week of football camp.  In six hours, I head back to reality.

Reality
blows.                                                                                                         

Addison
and I said our goodbyes earlier, when we took a long walk around the lake.  We
decided it best to get it over with to make things easier; although, I don’t
think the timing would have mattered.  I’m still struggling to accept the fact
that I won’t be able to see her for the next two weeks.  The lake spoiled us,
and it’s pissing me off.  Why can’t her parents leave early?  Why won’t they
let her go home by herself?  I volunteered to take her.

Oh
yeah.  That’s why.

Her
sister is also stopping by on her way to Michigan Tech.  Addison’s parents want
her there to celebrate, to have one last family dinner before Meagan is buried
under snow in the Upper Peninsula.  Addison said she couldn’t care less, but I
have a feeling she misses her sister.  Meagan comes up in conversation more
than she would admit.

Kevin
starts to snore, and I pull my pillow over my head to block out his wheezing
snort.  I hate that sound.  If there is one good thing about going home, it’s that
I’ll have my bedroom to myself again.

Suddenly,
I hear two knocks in between Kev’s nasal symphony.   At least, I think I do.  I
move my head from beneath the pillow to listen.

Wheee-snark
. 
Wheee-snark.  Wheee-snark. 
Thunk-thunk.

There. 
That was definitely a knock.

I
roll over and stare at the window opposite my bed.  The moon is high in the
sky, and the light shines through onto the carpet.  Seconds later, a tiny fist
appears and raps against the glass.

I
untangle my legs from my blankets and spring to the window.  Sliding it open, I
hear rustling and a whispered curse.

“Shit!”

“Addison?”
I press my forehead to the screen and look down.  “What are you doing?”

She
stumbles as she frees herself from the bush she’s fallen into, and I fight the
urge to laugh.  She stands up and wraps the comforter I recognize from her bed
around her body.  “Hey,” she whispers, giving me a small smile.  “I need to
talk to you.”

“Obviously,”
I whisper back.

“Can
you come out here?”

“One
sec.”

I
close the window and sneak around Kevin, although a freight train could plow
through the bedroom and he wouldn’t hear it over himself.  I snag a t-shirt off
the floor and pull it over my head as I creep down the stairs and through the
living room.  Sliding the patio door open, I slip through and close it quietly
behind me.  When I turn around, Addison is waiting at the bottom of the deck
steps.  As I walk toward her, my bare feet register the cool dew covering the
deck.  That’s the weird thing about northern Michigan; it can be eighty degrees
during the day and fall to forty at nighttime.

When
I reach her, she opens her arms and winds them around me, cocooning us inside
the blanket.  My hands find her waist and pull her close.  She sighs against my
chest.

“I
can’t sleep.”

“Me
neither.”

I
kiss her hair, then set my chin on the top of her head.  I stare out into the
surrounding darkness as minutes pass.  We don’t say a word; our heartbeats falling
into the same rhythm.

Eventually,
Addison speaks.  “Don’t go.”

Her
voice is shaky, which is odd for her.  Concerned, I lean back and see a tear
escape the corner of her eye.

“Hey.” 
I wipe it away with my thumb.  “Don’t cry.” 
Please,
I think.  I’m
already depressed enough about leaving; knowing that she’s upset will only make
it worse.  “We’ll see each other soon.”

She
releases my waist and steps back, wiping beneath her other eye.  “Are you
sure?”

My
forehead pinches.  “Of course I’m sure.  We talked about this.”  In two weeks,
on Labor Day, I am to be on her doorstep at exactly noon.  “Don’t you trust me?”

She
lets out a small laugh.  “I want to.”

“What’s
that supposed to mean?”

She
sighs.  “It’s nothing.”

“No. 
It’s something.”  I take a step forward and reach for her.  “Talk to me.”

She
gives me a wary look, and I grab her hand.  “C’mon.”

“Where
are we going?”

“To
the dock so we don’t have to whisper.”  I doubt Kevin will hear us, but I’m not
sure about Gram.  I don’t want to wake her and have to explain why we’re
outside in the middle of the night.

As
I lead Addison down the hill and to the lake, my mind scrambles.  I don’t
think
I did anything wrong, but she’s acting funny.  She’s never been emotional
around me before.  Then again, I’ve only known her for two and a half months.

The
thought stops me short.  It’s not a long time.  But, for me, it is.  I feel
like I’ve known her my whole life.

When
we reach the dock, I take a seat on the bench and pull her onto my lap.  She
settles onto me and arranges the blanket over us, then buries her head against my
neck.  Inwardly, I groan.  The warmth of her body pressed to mine is amazing. 
After tonight, it’s going to be awhile before I feel it again.  September can’t
get here fast enough.

“So?”
I ask as we wind our arms around one another.

“So
what?”

“Are
you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“You’re
leaving.”

“I
know that.”  I move my head to the side to look her in the eyes.  “What else?”

She
grimaces.  “Landon.”

Instantly,
my jaw clenches.  Who the hell is Landon?  “Keep talking.”

“Landon…he’s
the guy who left me after prom.”  She presses her forehead to my neck again. 
“He…we…he was my first,” she explains.  “We’d been dating for months.  He kept
asking, I kept stalling, and then, the night of the dance, I caved.”  She
pauses.  “The next day, he broke up with me.”  A snort of laughter escapes
her.  “He said I wasn’t good enough.”

Anger
surges through my veins.  What I wouldn’t do for two minutes alone with this
guy.  It wouldn’t take me any longer than that to beat the shit out of him.

My
arms hold Addison tighter.  “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“Yeah,
well.”  She shrugs.  “It was my mistake to trust him.”

A
realization starts to take over.  “Please tell me you don’t think I’m the same.”

“I
don’t.  You’re completely different.”

I’m
confused.  “So why…?”

She
lifts her head.  “When I couldn’t sleep, I started to freak out.  What if,
after these next few weeks apart, you decide I’m not what you want?  I won’t be
there to convince you otherwise.  I’ve given you everything.  What if you
decide there’s nothing left to come back for?”

She
can’t be serious.  My eyes lock on hers.  “Addison Renee.”  I recall her middle
name from the night we almost got caught half-naked in her room.  “I thought
you had the forever moment.”

“I
did.”

“Okay,
then.  Stop worrying.”

She
stares at me.  “But, you never said it.”

“Never
said what?”

“That
you
did.”  She purses her lips.  “You never said you had that moment
too.”

She’s
right.  When she asked me about it, I confirmed her question with a kiss, not
words.  I thought kissing her would mean more.  I guess I was wrong.

I
lean forward, so we’re nearly nose to nose.  “I had the moment.”

A
slow smile creeps across her lips, and I decide to plant a soft, full kiss on
them.  “Nothing will change how I feel about you.”

Once
I say those words, her body relaxes in my arms.  Her full weight falls against
me, and I realize how tense she really was.  I had no idea she was so stressed
over this.  I decide to lighten the mood.

“Do
you know why my feelings will never change?”

“Why?”
she asks sleepily.

“Because
this,” I slide my hand down to cradle her ass, “fits in my palm perfectly.”

She
rolls her eyes and lets out a small laugh.  “I hope that’s not all it takes.”

“It’s
not,” I reassure her as I run my hand down her leg to her knee.  “These legs
help.”  I zero in on her neck with my mouth next.  “This doesn’t hurt either,”
I murmur against her.

She
tips her head so I have an easier time making my way to her ear.  “You just
want to make out with me.”

“Always.”

Our
lips meet, and we kiss until they feel swollen.  It’s as if we’re trying to
cram the next two weeks in these last few hours.  I want Addison to know how
much I care about her; I want to brand her with my mouth so she won’t forget. 
It’s then that I know I need to tell her.  She didn’t understand what my
actions meant before; she needs words.

“Hey.” 
I pull myself away from her.  “I need to tell you something.”

She
studies my face as her breathing slows.  “Don’t say you love me.”

I
want to.  I’ve never told anyone before.  “Why not?”

“Save
it,” she says.  “I want those words to be the first out of your mouth when I
see you again.”

I
don’t fully understand her reasoning; girls confuse me.  Addison less so than
others I’ve known, but still.  “Are you sure?”

She
nods and gives me her sly smile.  “If we save it, seeing you will be like
Christmas.  The anticipation will be worth the wait.”

I
narrow my eyes, trying to read her.  My gut tells me she wants another reason to
ensure I will show up on Labor Day, despite my admitting to the ‘forever
moment.’  I decide to drop it and pull her toward me.  She settles her body against
my chest.  “I’ll get in trouble if I sleep here,” she says.

I
let out a heavy breath.  “I know.”

As
much as I don’t want her to get yelled at, I want her to stay.  I want to spend
the night wrapped around her on this uncomfortable wood bench, surrounded by
nothing but the water and the stars.

“Make
sure you call when you get home,” she says quietly.

“I
will.”  I kiss the top of her head.  “Don’t forget to head up to town.”

Addison
and I both have cell phones, but we haven’t used them because there is no
signal at the lake.  We’ve spent the majority of our time here together; there
was never a need for them.  Now, she will have to drive into town to get
reception if we want to talk.

Minutes
pass and she doesn’t move to leave.  I glance down and notice her eyes flutter closed. 
The longer I look at her, the steadier her breathing becomes.  She’s falling asleep. 
I know I should wake her, but I don’t want to.  If her parents find us together
in the morning, oh well.  Her dad might aim his gun at me, but I don’t think
he’d pull the trigger.

I
take that back.  He’d definitely fire a warning shot.

Regardless,
it’s worth it.  The moon is high in the sky, and the light reflects off
Addison’s face.  Her skin looks softer than usual, and here, relaxed in my
arms, she looks fragile and innocent - two words I would never use to describe
her while she is awake.  When her eyes are open, she’s strong and confident.  Instantly,
I’m thankful I get to see every side of her.

My
eyes feel heavy, and my gaze jumps to the lake.  The water is still, like a
sheet of glass.  It’s calm and peaceful.

Just
like I feel right now.

I
hate speed limits.

Heading
south on the expressway, I meticulously weave around slower traffic.  It seems everyone
is out for a leisurely drive today.  Not me.  I have an important appointment
at exactly twelve o’clock.  One I’ve been looking forward to for fourteen days.

There
is no way on this earth that I will be late to see Addison.

None.

As
I change lanes to move past a putzing Toyota, the text she sent yesterday afternoon
pops into my thoughts.  A stupid grin breaks across my face.

Addison:
Finally home.  How many more hours?

Me:
23.  But who’s counting?

Addison:
I’m dying over here.

Me:
Do you need mouth to mouth?  I’m self-certified in CPR.

Addison:
I know ;)

Me:
Seriously.  I could come over tonight.

Addison:
I wish.  Dad says he has a surprise for us and we’ll probably be out late.

Me:
It better be something good to keep you away from me.

Addison:
Right?!  I’ve never missed anyone so much.

Me: 
I miss you too, Sparrow.  You have no idea.

After
I arrived home from Buhl Lake, I had a week of football camp, which meant
getting up at six a.m. every day to make it to the high school by seven.  As I
mechanically fed myself Rice Krispies each morning, I would stare out the kitchen
window that overlooks our backyard.  The birdfeeder I made years ago in shop
class hangs just outside of it, and the only thing that would show up to eat
were sparrows.  Lots of them.  They reminded me of Addison, and I took their
presence as a sign that she was thinking about me.  When I told her about the
birds, she said that was sweet and most likely the truth.  I nicknamed her
Sparrow after that.

I
finally arrive at my exit and glance down at the directions Addison wrote out
for me.  After a few more miles, I end up at the entrance of a swanky subdivision
called Glendale Oaks.  The winding roads are lined with impressive brick homes
that sit on manicured lawns with sprinkler systems.  I inwardly cringe at the
thought of her visiting me.  My house is a three bedroom, one-story ranch with
white siding and black shutters.  These houses look like they have in-home movie
theaters and bowling alleys.

At
last, I find her address and turn into the paved drive.  I park, turn off my
truck, and stare at the structure before me.  Three car garage.  Fenced in
yard.  Wrap-around porch.  Professional landscaping.

Nice.

Despite
my excitement to see Addison, I exit my truck slowly.  My heart rate picks up
as I make my way to the front door.  A weird lump forms in my throat, and I
realize I’m nervous.  Unpleasant thoughts start to creep into my brain.  I’ve
only been here about ten seconds, but my subconscious is tapping me on my
shoulder and whispering in my ear.  It says I’m not good enough to be here.

I
press the doorbell and wait, listening to the chime on the other side of the
door.  Almost immediately, I hear Sam’s bark from somewhere deep inside the
house.  I didn’t notice until now, but I’ve really missed that furry guy, too. 
I glance around the porch absentmindedly and rock back on my heels.  Call me
arrogant, but I expected Addison to be waiting outside, anxious to see me.  I
thought she’d be in my arms as soon as I got out of my truck.  That’s how I
envisioned it, anyway.

I
press the doorbell again and hear Sam’s bark.  Minutes pass, and the
nervousness I felt in my chest spreads to my stomach.  Why isn’t anyone answering
the door?  There is no way Addison would forget I was coming.  We talked about
it yesterday.

Immediately,
I pull my phone from my back pocket.  No new messages or missed calls.  I find
Addison’s number and dial it.  I get her voice mail and hang up.  A strange mix
of worry and anger starts to take over.  No one is home, which means she’s with
her family somewhere.  Do her parents despise me so much that they would purposefully
make her leave the house today?

I
step to my left and peer in the window, cupping my hands around my eyes so I
can see inside.  My eyes search what looks like a den.  Newspaper is spread on
the coffee table, and a glass half full of something sits beside it.  I can see
down a hallway and spot what I think is the entrance to the kitchen.  It’s then
my eyes catch a blur of white fur and realize Samson isn’t in the house.  He’s
in the backyard.

Quickly
moving off the porch, I head toward the fence gate I saw when I first pulled
in.  I yank the handle, and it’s not locked.  Closing the door behind me, I
yell for the dog.  “Sam?  You back here?”

Sam
comes barreling around the side of the house, nearly knocking me down when he
reaches me.  I kneel, rubbing him roughly behind his ears and down the sides of
his body with both hands.  “What’s going on boy?  Where’s your family, huh?”

He
licks my face and acts happy to see me.  Standing, I head to the backyard. 
When I round the corner, I come upon a stamped concrete patio full of
furniture.  An outdoor bar and grill sit to one side, and on the opposite end
sits what looks like a custom made dog house.  Sam’s bowls are set in front of
it, full of food and water.  Addison and her parents must have left this morning.

Now
I’m pissed.  I reach for my phone again and text her.

Did
you forget something?

She
could have at least let me know to come later.  It’s not like her not to talk
to me.  Instantly, I blame her parents.  Did they take away her phone?  I eye
the patio furniture and make up my mind.  I’m going to park my ass in one of
these chairs until they bring her back home.

~~~~

Hours
later, my cell buzzes in my hand.  I nearly jump a foot off the chair, and Sam jerks
his head away from my leg.  I glance down to see my mom’s name on the screen. 
Frustrated, I answer.

“Hello?”

“Kyle? 
When are you coming home?  You have school tomorrow.”

I’m
irritated and it causes me to snap.  “I’m not twelve years old.”

“Listen
young man,” my mom says.  “You still live under this roof.  You play by my
rules.”

Silence.

“I
expect you home within the hour,” she says adamantly.  “Understand?”

Reluctantly,
I agree and hang up.  I look at the time on the screen.  It’s almost eight
o’clock.  I’ve been sitting on Addison’s deck for eight hours with no sign of
her.  No phone call.  No nothing.

I
push my legs off the chair I’ve been lying on with Sam.  He gets up with me,
and we both stretch.  I don’t know what to do.  My feelings vacillate between
anger and a worry so deep it reaches my bones.

I
look at Sam and he tilts his head, giving me a sad whine.  I don’t know if he
knows something I don’t or if he’s picking up on my nervous vibe.  I do know
that I don’t want to leave him here alone.

It’s
then that I make up my mind.  I crouch down and meet his eyes.  “Listen,” I say
out loud.  “I have to go, but I’ll be back to check on you.”  Concern for the
dog will give me an excuse to come back tomorrow, unless I talk to Addison
tonight.

Sam
bumps his head against my hand, and I feel terrible.  This whole day has been a
disaster.  Two weeks of anticipation for this?

Giving
Sam’s soft fur one last rub, I will my body off the deck and toward the front
of the house.  The dog follows close at my heels and when I make it to the fence,
I turn around.  “Stay.  I’ll come back.  I promise.”

Despite
everything inside of me screaming not to leave, I slip through the gate and make
my way to my truck.  I can hear Sam’s high pitched whine and his paw scratching
the wood fence.  The sound makes the back of my throat ache.  My hands clench
into fists and when I reach my truck, I punch the driver’s side door.  An
insane pain shoots up my arm, and the skin across my knuckles breaks.  Blood starts
to ooze down the back of my hand as I flex my fingers.

Goddamn
it!
 
What happened today?

~~~~

Sitting
in class the following morning, I can’t focus.  All I can do is stare at my
bruised hand and will my phone to ring.  Addison hasn’t returned my calls; she
hasn’t responded to my messages.

I’m
worried sick.

The
bell sounds, ending third period, and I robotically make my way toward my
locker.  I throw my history book inside with more force than necessary and slam
the door shut.  Behind me, a large part of the student body rushes past on its
way to the cafeteria.  Reluctantly, I join the herd, even though food is the
last thing I want right now.

With
that thought, I immediately change direction.  Pushing sideways through the
crowd, I pick up my pace and head down the sophomore hallway to the student
parking lot.  I’m not going to lunch.

I’m
going to Addison’s.

Just
as I reach the double doors, I hear Kevin at my back.  “Where are you going?”

I
glance over my shoulder and keep moving.  “Think about it.”

My
brother gives me a concerned, yet knowing look.  “You can’t ditch.  If coach
finds out, he’ll bench you first game.”

“I
don’t care.”

I
make it to Waterford in record time; it’s much quicker in light midday traffic,
when everyone is at work.  My tires squeal as I turn into Addison’s driveway,
and when I park, the house looks exactly the same as I last saw it.  I jump out
of the truck, leaving the door open, and head to the front porch.  With each
step I take, my anxiety builds.  I can’t shake the feeling of déjà vu.

I
pound on the door, then peer in the windows again.  Everything remains
untouched from yesterday.  I repeatedly ring the doorbell.  No one answers.

It’s
then that I realize I haven’t heard Sam’s bark.  I head off the porch, to the fence
gate, and let myself inside.  When I round the back of the house, my eyes roam
the yard to find everything the same.

With
one exception.

Sam
and his food dishes are gone.

I
walk over to the chair I sat in the day before and stare at my hands in
disbelief.  An hour later, I’m still doing the same thing.  Addison’s laugh
echoes in my mind; her smile dances through my thoughts.  I remember the feeling
of her kiss and her body against mine.  Was this summer a lie?  It couldn’t
have been.  Where is she?  Why won’t she talk to me?  My mind starts to jump to
conclusions and assume the worst.  Are her parents that cold-hearted that they wouldn’t
contact me if she were hurt?

With
heavy steps, I make my way to my truck and start the engine.  I back down the
driveway slowly, with my head and my heart full of confusion.