Sunshine (14 page)

Chapter 14
Acceptance
“My mind is a box and you put things in and you take things out and it's empty”-Pretty Balanced

I can deal with a lot.
So what if Myles can get pictures of things from people? So he can feel what people feel? No problem. But now? Now I don’t know.
He’s dead. He drinks blood to live. The body hopping thing.
And I’m sure I’m forgetting a few.
I don’t think about what Myles told me.
At least I try.
I don’t think I sleep anymore.
Trying not to recall every vampire movie I’ve watched or book I’ve read is hard. I try to be normal around Boo and Trei. Even when they ask me if I’ve seen Myles.
He hasn’t shown up to school for almost a month. I haven’t tried calling him, but Boo and Trei tell me he never answers when they do. Maybe he’s dropped off the face of the earth. I mean, would it be the worst thing? What was I trying to accomplish with Myles anyway? Being friends? How did I think that wouldn’t blow up in my face?

I wake up, go to school, play music. The same as I did before. I try to forget.
But I can’t.
I go through my days thinking about Myles no matter how much I don’t want to. It’s not that I think about what he told me so much as how I almost made a new friend—granted, a new-strange-secret-keeping-friend—and now he’s disappeared again. I can’t figure out how I’m supposed to feel about it, but I can’t seem to ignore that something is missing.
Just when I think he’s gone forever, he finds me.
It’s on a Monday afternoon and I’m getting into my car to leave for work.
“Hello,” I hear a voice say from the back seat.
I jump so high my head hits the overhead light. Before I can form more of a reaction, he’s in the passenger’s seat like he materialized there. “Sorry,” he says.
I slowly turn my head. Yup, it’s Myles. “Okay,” it’s hard to remain in control of my own motor functions. “You can’t do that.”
Like he’s only thinking about it now, he nods. “I’m sorry.”
So here we are. Now what? “Where have you been?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Around.”
I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say.
“Have you thought about it?” he asks quietly. I’m assuming he means about us being friends after this whole thing.
“The truth? Not really,” I say. “I’ve tried not thinking about anything.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I can understand that.” Those bright blues fix themselves to something outside my window.
“I still want to be friends though,” I don’t realize I say it out loud until it’s out there, hovering between us.
He turns to face me, his expression unreadable. “Why?”
I shrug. “Well, because you haven’t given me any reason to be afraid of you so far, and I’d like to think my friends wouldn’t stop talking to me just because of something that’s completely out of my control. I mean, what if Boo and Trei stopped talking to me because I can’t go sunbathing with them or something? That would suck.” I’m rambling now so I stop myself before adding, “Just don’t…surprise me like that again. Okay?”
That little line appears near his mouth with a smile. “You’re sure?” he asks. I nod. His face is serious for a minute. “If ever you change your mind, I’ll leave you alone. I want you to know that.”
I nod again.
I take him in. He looks different. He has a bit of a five o’clock shadow, and he has a hint of color in his face. “You’re not as pale as usual,” I blurt out.
He briefly touches his left cheek, “Oh, I um. Drank last night,” he says.
“How often do you do that?” I ask. Brave move.
“When I have to. Usually a few times a month. The older we are, the less we need.”
I laugh a little, just at the pure absurdity of this.
“What’s so funny?” Myles asks, smiling nervously.
I stop laughing. “Sorry. It’s just that this is so freaking weird. You act more normal than I do.”
“Oh.” Now he smiles genuinely. “Thanks,” he says like I’ve given him a complement.
There’s an awkward silence as I try to not think about how old he actually is. As if getting the hint, he changes the subject completely. “You’re on your way to work.” he points to my name tag.
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I come?”
He’s just reappeared; I don’t want him to leave now. “Sure. But I have practice with Boo and Trei tonight, so you’ll probably just be bored.” I don’t want him showing up to that. It’s just too personal.
Says the girl he’s seen bleeding in the bathtub.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he says.
“I won’t be.” I start to back out of my drive way just to have something to do.
When I get to work, I drag some boxes of new books to an isle and start stocking them. Myles brings a chair over to where I am and sits. I’m the only one working tonight, so it doesn’t matter that he’s here. “So what will we talk about now?” he asks.
“Myles, as long as it’s
normal
stuff, I don’t care what we talk about.” I laugh, and he surprises me when he laughs too.
“That sounds good to me.” And then he’s quiet as he thinks. “Okay, when you were younger?” he asks finally.
That is such a weird question to ask. “Why?”
“I just like learning about people. I’m used to doing it on my own”
I think for a moment and I figure it’s a harmless question, so I should have no problem answering him. Only I do because I remember virtually nothing from back then. “I don’t know. I was like any other kid I guess,” I struggle.
“Like any kid who had to stay inside all hours of the day,” he counters.
“Something like that.” I shove some books onto an already nearly full shelf.
“Is that the best answer you can come up with?”
I sigh. “I don’t know what kind of answer you’re looking for.”
“Tell me something you did when you were a kid,” he suggests.
I try to think of one memory to share and come up with something Jade told me. “My favorite movie was
Peter Pan
,” I offer.
He smiles. “Go on.”
“I used to think I could fly, so one day, just as the sun went down and I was allowed to go outside, I climbed the tree in our front yard and tried to fly off of it.”
He laughs. “Let me guess, you didn’t fly?”
“Oh I flew. Right out of the tree.” I hold out my wrist toward him. “I broke my arm.”
Myles raises his hand, hesitates for a second, and then traces the long gone scars on the inside of my right forearm.
“You can see them, can’t you?” I barely ask.
He nods and then stops touching me as if I’ve burned him, which is fine. Better for him to stop touching me before I get all weird and freak out. “What were you like?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I wish I could remember, but I can’t.”
“I don’t remember either.” It seems to leave my mouth before I can stop it.
Myles shakes his head. “You just told me something from your childhood.”
“Anything I know about being a kid was told to me,” I explain.
He still isn’t buying it. “You have to remember being sick, or going to school. What about piano lessons? You have to remember those because you can still play piano.”
I really don’t want to think about my piano lessons, or my piano teacher for that matter. I do kind of remember him, and I don’t want to. Now I shake my head. “I can play by ear, and I can make things up. I just started learning how to read music this year.”
The expression on his face looks like a little boy after you popped a balloon his mommy bought him.
“I’m serious,” I say.
“Why do you think you can’t remember?” he asks quietly.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m good at forgetting things that I don’t want to remember.”
I shouldn’t have said that.
He smiles, but it abruptly fades.
“What?” I ask.
“Customer,” he explains.
“Really?” No one ever comes in on weekdays.
“Don’t get too excited.”
“Why?”
“Barbie.”
I put my hand to my head, trying to keep from getting pissed off.
“You keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll get rid of her,” he offers.
I can’t argue with that. I do not feel like getting arrested for ripping Barbie’s head off. Literally.
A few seconds later, she walks in wearing a plaid mini skirt so short I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten hypothermia in the late November chill. I cringe and hide behind a book case while Myles is already at the door to greet her.
“Can I help you?” he asks like he works here.
I hear her gum pop obnoxiously. From where I’m hidden, I can see her walk around the store. She’s looking for me. “Does Sophie Jean work here?” she asks.
“She’s on break,” he says flatly.
Barbie turns around to face him. “I’m looking for a book. I thought that Sophie would be the best person to ask about this subject, but maybe you can pass it along.” She’s actually touching his arm and flirting with him.
He pulls away from her, not in a rude way which is a feat in itself. “Alright,” he says, but I can hear an edge of anger in his voice.
“I need to find a book on self-mutilation.”
I can see a sliver of Myles’ face instantly become tense. There’s a lump in my throat the size of Texas. “Excuse me?” His tone is ice.
“Self
mutilation
, you know.” She runs her index finger across her arm to make it look like she’s slitting her wrist.
I sit down on the floor where I’m hiding. I can’t breathe. There’s only one way Barbie would know something about me like that. Jack had put two and two together when he—let’s not think of that—there weren’t many scars then, but there were a few unmistakable marks on my inner thighs.
And now Barbie knows.
Myles remains calm. “I don’t think we can help you with that here. You should try the internet.”
She smiles innocently. “Maybe you’re right. Just pass the message along.”
Myles glances at her and nods stiffly and she’s too stupid to notice he’s fuming. She then smiles, turns, and leaves the store.
My stomach is turning and my skin is crawling. I’m going to blow chunks. Myles walks over to where I am. “Sophie,” he begins, but I hold up my hand to stop him. Now that Barbie knows, everyone will.
“I’m fine. I have to puke.” I stand.
Myles stands right next to me. “Maybe I should drive you home. You look pale.”
“I
am
pale,” I say.
“You know what I mean.”
If he’s feeling exactly what I am, I’ll never get away with it this time. I get my things and lock up as fast as I can with at least three hours left of my shift. All but run ahead of Myles through the mall and parking lot to my car, my stomach calms down. I get in and sit down with the door still open, letting a cold breeze hit me in the face. Myles gets into the passenger side and shuts the door. I can feel him staring at me.
No big deal. I’ll just go home and forget about this. I’m just getting a hold of myself when Myles asks it: “Sophie, who’s Jack?”
Sophie, it is time to blow chunks,
says my body.
Good thing there’s a trash can right next to where I parked. “Stay here,” I warn as I climb out and scramble toward it.
“Sophie, Maybe—”
“I mean it!”
I run the few steps to the trash can and throw up for a good five minutes. When I’m done, I climb back into my car and I’m surprised to see that Myles listened to me and stayed in the car. I shut the door behind me and shove some gum I find in a cup holder in my mouth. We don’t say anything to each other the whole ride from the mall until we’re parking in front of his house.
“I thought I was going to your house,” he says.
“I have some stuff I need to do before Boo and Trei get there.” I wait anxiously for him to go inside. The gum I'm chewing turns out to be cinnamon flavor. It burns my tongue, but at least it doesn't taste like vomit.
“Maybe those things aren’t what’s best for you right now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I want to go to sleep, I don’t feel good.”
“I should go with you,” he says sympathetically, “I can keep you company.” He places a hand on my shoulder reassuringly.
“Don’t touch me!” I scream without thinking. I’m so embarrassed that I clap my hand over my mouth.
Myles pulls his hand back, looking hurt. “Maybe you shouldn’t be alone right now,” he says quietly.
“I’m fine. Good-bye, Myles.”
He hesitates, staring at me. Then he slowly gets out of the car and shuts the door. I don’t wait until he gets inside before I speed away.
I pull into my driveway at home, thankful that no one else is there. Good, no witnesses. I’m so angry. Violated. Sick. I burst through the front door fighting with myself. Yes, No, Yes, No. I stomp downstairs and slam the door to my apartment, throwing my bag against the wall and trying to calm down.
I’m suddenly aware that I’m not alone. I know Stevie and Jade are at work until late tonight, and Boo and Trei aren't supposed to be here until 6:30. I don't know why I’m certain who’s there, but I am. I just feel it.
“I know you’re there,” I say. I hear footsteps coming from my room before he emerges. The look I give him should set him ablaze. “Get out,” I say through clenched teeth.
“No,” Myles says calmly.
Which only makes me angrier.
“You promised,” he whispers.
I look around franticly. Am I going to lose it? “Myles…I…I.” I kneel down on the floor where I am and wrap my arms around myself. I feel like I’m going to break into tiny jagged pieces.
Myles walks slowly to where I’m kneeling. I cover my face stupidly and stare down at my boots. Like he can’t see me if I do this. “I didn’t mean to upset you back there,” he says in such a soft voice that I barely hear him at all.
I shake my head. “Not your fault,” I choke out.
“I know I shouldn’t have asked you that, but I did it anyway,” he says in the same tone. He kneels down next to me and I have to look at him. “He told her,” he explains.
I nod as I rock back and forth. I already know that.
“You weren’t as upset before I mention his name,” he sounds like he’s talking to himself.
“Myles,” I warn.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it. I know that you’re upset right now, and it’s partly my fault. It’s okay now.” He places his hand on my head. I don’t even flinch.
We sit there for a long time, just being quiet. My hands stop shaking eventually, my muscles start to relax.
“Are you alright?” he asks after a while.
I look at my arms, my legs. I feel fine. A little shaky and tired, but fine. Every piece of me that was there before is still intact. I have not shattered.
Myles holds out his hand to help me up and I take it. I’m light headed from staying in the same position for so long so I sit on the couch. Myles sits down with me, but keeps his distance. He’s probably afraid that I’m going to yell at him again.
How do people do this? How is it possible to deal with other peoples’ crap day in and day out without imploding? I can’t imagine what that must be like for someone who’s been around as long as Myles has.
“Does it ever get old?” My voice is small when I ask.
“Does what ever get old?” he asks. Then he takes in an audible breath. “Oh. That.” He pauses. “Yeah, I guess. It doesn’t get old for you?”
I snort because if it isn’t obvious to him by now, it should be. “Yeah, all the time.” I look at him now and he’s smiling. It’s like we’re having a conversation any two people could have. “So why go to high school? I mean, it’s
hell
. Why put yourself through that?”
“Things get old pretty fast for me. This is something I’ve never done before.” He shrugs.
I crack a small smile. “So I bet you’re glad you go to Lucky.”
“I am. I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if I hadn’t.”
Time to change the subject.
“I’m tired.” Weak, I know, but I can’t think of anything else at that moment. To prove myself, I lay my head down next to his knees. Far away enough so he doesn’t think anything of it, but close. He moves farther away.
“I’m okay. Sorry I yelled at you before.”
“I understand. It’s alright.”
He rests his hand on my head again, just barely. It feels comforting which is weird. I’m okay now, I don’t need it. I let him anyway, considering what I just put him through.
“Hey, Myles,” I ask quietly.
“Yes?”
“Uhm…thank you. For coming back.”
“Even though you didn’t want me here?”
“Yeah. Sometimes I need people to not listen to me.”
He laughs softly. “Well, I can guarantee that I will not listen to you whenever you need me to.”
“Thanks.”
We’re quiet for a long time. And I don’t feel weird. I don’t feel uncomfortable, I’m not thinking about how he’s got all of this weird stuff going on with him. I’m just tired and comfortable. I almost feel normal, but I don’t get carried away.
“Sophie?” Myles whispers, probably thinking I’m asleep. I’m close.
“Mm?”
“You can tell me. Whenever you’re ready to.”
Funny boy, he thinks I’m going to tell him. I smile in response.
“I want you to know I’m here if you need me.”
“That’s nice.” I kind of mean it. “I like you being here when I
don’t
need you too.”
Then I fall asleep.
I wake up to the sound of Boo’s monster loud van rolling into my driveway. Someone tucked me in a little too tight with one of my blankets on the couch. I rub the caked on make up out of my eyes and get up, still groggy from sleep. Is it really only 6:30? Myles is gone. I expected him to be.
“Ready to write some music?” Trei asks when I open the door to my apartment.
“Yeah, I think so,” I say enthusiastically.
Suddenly, I have all this energy to burn out through my piano.
And a lot of things to write about.