Veil of Scars (2 page)

He dragged his head off the back of the sofa and looked at her, his blue gaze pleading louder than any words could. The air buzzed with electricity from the pair of them. He licked over his lips, and the muscles in his arm tightened as he guided her head towards his lap. Charlie ducked under the blanket, and a flash of heat ran through me.

Was she really going to go down on him in the middle of the party?

I held my breath, transfixed as Sam lifted up his ass below where the blanket covered him to slide his pants down around his ankles, I guessed. He groaned, this time audibly, and the sound went right to my gut. I chewed on my lip ring unable to stop myself from staring. Charlie's head bobbed under the cover, and Sam's eyes rolled back in his head.

Suddenly I was flushed and embarrassed. I was the voyeur, spying on my friends who were caught up in drunken passion. I tore my eyes away from his lap only to find his blue gaze locked on me. All the oxygen went out of the room, but I still couldn't look away. He didn't either.

Chapter Three

Why didn't he stop things? Why didn’t he say something? My Adam's apple bobbed in my throat as I swallowed hard. I told myself to look away, begged myself to look away. But I couldn't. Fire lit up in the back of my mind, and it ran down my spine like a spark. It was like I was fourteen again and there was a stiff breeze. I adjusted my seat, sliding a hand between my thighs to adjust my now painfully hard length. The reaction to him was involuntary. Sam's eyes dropped to watch my hand.

Shit.

Did he think I was turned on by the act or by Charlie? This was the last thing I wanted him to think. I tore my gaze away and started to get up, but Sam gasped and I froze. He started to pant and his fingers tightened on the back of Charlie's head. It was all so surreal, so raw, and all the emotions that had baffled me rolled up in that moment. He gasped again, and every muscle in his body strained as his eyes slid shut. I could almost taste the pleasure written in his features.

I got up, flipping my back to him before his eyes opened again. I slipped into my room and closed the door behind me. I’d been clear-headed enough to lock my door before the party started so I wouldn't have to deal with soiled sheets or unwanted guests in my bed. It was impossible to process what had happened. I couldn't make sense of any of it, and my mind whirled.

Sleep, I needed to sleep so I didn't have to think about what any of it had meant. I stripped down to my boxers and then stretched out on the well-worn cotton, sighing as I did so. There was nothing better than sprawling out after a long day. I still had a good buzz going, so the room tilted around me as I settled.

A soft knock sounded on my door as it creaked open. I looked over my shoulder and found him staring at me through the dark.

"Can we invade your bed for the night?" Sam murmured.

"Of course. Someone steal yours?" I knew very well they had, hence the show.

"Yeah." He slid into the room with Charlie in tow, and I felt an utter sadness I couldn't quite explain. The world had shifted to gray, and nothing felt the same in that instant. They both ditched most of their clothes and climbed into the queen-sized bed.

"I call middle." She flopped down between us, and my heart sank a little more.

Sam watched me as we got comfortable. Charlie took her usual position on her stomach, and I lay on my side facing her. He did the same, draping his arm over her waist. Charlie weighed in at one hundred and five pounds. She’d always been a lightweight with alcohol, and sleep took her quickly.

As I drifted in and out of my own haze, I felt the pads of Sam's fingers stroke up my arm. I opened one eye to find that he was still watching me. Moving my arm over Charlie's back, I reached to do the same to his shoulder. His traced patterns on my skin, which added a dose of comfort to the sadness flooding through me, only muddling my feelings as I faded. The mixture proved to be quite toxic.

****

I found a spot on the old yard to sit between classes since the weather had warmed to above intolerable. Leaning my back against a tree, I pulled my sketch pad and a pencil from my messenger bag. I let my eyes train on the beautiful ivy covered stone work and started to sketch with a mind to capture the art around me to clear my head, but the pencil had other plans. Before I knew what I was doing, eyes appeared on the page. Sam's eyes. I used my finger to help the shading in the irises, adding a little color. I sucked my cold metal lip ring into my mouth, chewing on it.

Shit.

"Thought I'd find you here." Sam dropped down beside me, and I snapped the pad up against my chest.

"What are you doing all the way over here?” My tone was laced with guilt. I couldn’t help it.

"I knew you'd be between classes, and I figured I'd come by on my way back home." His eyes gave him away. They always did. There was something he wasn't saying. "Way to not answer your phone."

I patted my pockets. "I think I left it at home."

"Let's go grab lunch from the truck."

"I brought lunch." I gestured at my backpack. "But thanks."

"Let me get you something." He got to his feet and offered his hand. He was always doing this. Even with my scholarship, the stipend they gave me didn't allow for extravagances like eating out. Plus, if I skimped on food, I could buy more liquor. Char had a gold card from her parents, and Sam's mom wasn't rich by any means, but she made sure he had spending money since he’d gotten a full ride.

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet then leaned down to pack away my stuff.

He grabbed the sketch book before I could get it into my messenger bag. "Are those my eyes?"

I glanced up at him and nodded.

"Oh," he said and handed it back. "The other night?"

I looked away, flicking and running my tongue over the steel ring, and tucked my hair behind my ear. "I didn't mean to. It just kind of happened."

He reached up and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as we turned to head to the food cart. "No, I'm sorry. I know how you are about that stuff."

I shrugged one shoulder and gave my order. He gave his, and we both pulled out our wallets. He waved me off.

"Ma won bingo last weekend, so she sent me extra money. Let me get this." He handed over a twenty, and I saw there were a few more in the worn leather wallet. I stuffed my almost bare one back into the pocket of my jeans.

"Thanks," I murmured. "We should take our food back to the sun. It's cold here in the shade." I'd never had so little to say to him.

He grabbed the bag, and we trudged back towards a place in the middle of the yard. When we’d both had our fill, I settled back to lie on the grass since I still had an hour before my next class. Sam scooted closer and tugged on my shoulders until I gave in and laid my head in his lap.

"Let me see that picture again."

I dug out the pad and handed it over. He studied it for a long time before saying anything.

"Going to finish it?"

I took it back and grabbed my pencil, pulling my knees up to balance the pad on. His fingers leisurely stroked through my hair as I drew.

"How can you draw from memory like that? You haven't even looked at me once.”

Closing my eyes, I saw the many faces of Sam through the years. The expressions changed, and his face grew older with time, but the eyes had always been the same. I was taken back to the first time he’d asked me to sleep over. I’d been so happy to get out of my own house for one night.

****

When it came time for PJs, I snuck off to the bathroom to dress. I forgot how embarrassing it would be to change in front of anyone else with my body often looking like a battlefield. In the morning, I woke to warm fingers tracing a green spot on my exposed hip. My eyes snapped open, panic filling my lungs like cold liquid. There was no mistaking my expression, and I forced myself to calm as I tried to cover it.

"What's that from?" Sam asked in his groggy voice, looking down at me from the bed.

The trundle squeaked and groaned as I pulled the covers up around my neck. "I fell."

The lies were so ingrained from the years of practice and coaching that it was easy to flip into that mode.

"I've never believed you when you've said that." Sam let his arm fall limp over the side of the bed. "I won't tell anyone, but the next time it happens, might happen, or any fucking thing else, you come here instead.”

I smiled a little. “Thanks."

****

Opening my eyes from my memories, I continued to shade with my pencil. “I’ve known you for so long that your face is etched in my mind." But it was more than that.

Sam was like a lighthouse in the storm, and what I felt for him was near devotion bordering on obsession. Thinking back on it, I'd hidden these feelings for a long time. It had taken me years to put the pieces together. He was my best friend, but looking from the sketch pad to Sam's eyes, I finally realized it was more.

I loved Sam. I'd known that much since the party in his basement, but now I realized I was in love with Sam.

I jolted up when I felt his fingers glide through my hair again. He was in love with my other best friend.

"I'm late." I jogged off leaving him sitting there in the old yard.

Chapter Four

I paced the living room, making rounds around the worn coffee table. It had been three days since the yard. My books were strewn about the room, but I couldn't focus on anything. My mind couldn't—no, wouldn't—hold any more information. The scene with Sam kept playing over and over in my head. My feelings bottled inside me were like a dam about to burst. He was going to be home in the next five minutes. I either had to gather my things and make a run for the library as I had been doing for days, or suck it up and confront him.

I owed it to Sam to be honest. I pressed a hand into my chest, steadying myself as the handle of the door turned and it swung open. Sam walked in, and his shoulders dropped. He tossed his bag down before he looked up and saw me. The shock was written on his face.

"I told Char this morning I thought you had moved out on us. You've been a ghost."

I took a hard seat on the sofa, which sent stacks of papers flying in every direction. "Been a little stressed."

He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up on the hook, closing the door behind him. "School or..." He trailed off.

"I need to tell you something." I balled and un-balled my fists to stop my hands from shaking.

"Okay." He took a seat next to me and looked over expectantly. Wednesdays he got home an hour before Charlie, and we had taken to using that time to watch his favorite reality shows. It usually ended up with his arms around me or my head in his lap.

But not today. I held my ground. I knew I'd lose my edge if he touched me.

"You're acting like you’ve killed someone." His brow creased in the center, and he scooted towards me.

I shrank back and didn't speak. My throat was dry.

"Spill already," he growled. “You’re scaring me.” I could see the truth in his words in his gaze.

I blew a breath. "I love you, Sam."

I waited. He didn't react.

"Well duh." He reached up to grab me by the shirt pulling me closer, but I held back.

“No.” I pushed him back so I could look at him. “I'm in love with you."

His eyes went a little wider, and he didn't say anything. The air between us was thick, and bile rose in my throat. His mouth opened as if he was going to speak, but he closed it again as he knit his brow.

I could see it written all over him. The pity. I hated that look. It wasn't often I saw it from Sam, which might have been half the reason I let him in. Everyone kept their distance because of the protective walls I had built around myself. He'd ignored them from day one. Not even when I showed up on his doorstep with two black eyes and a swollen lip did he look at me like he was now, but it was there, written clearly across his face. Pain lanced out across my chest, and I dropped my gaze to the floor.

"How can you know that, Steven?" He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "You've never even been with anyone."

I held up my hands. "You don't have to say it back, but this feeling, I've never felt it for another person in my life." I closed my mouth so I wouldn't lose it in front of him. I couldn't bear to have him see me like it.

He knew my words were the truth. I'd never loved anyone before him. How could I love the father who beat the shit out of me whenever he fell into a bottle? Or my mother who stood by and let it happen so it wasn't her, and then drowned her sorrows in anything she could buy off the street corner.

Sam still hadn't uttered a word, so I made a break for my room. Charlie would be back any moment, and if she walked into the middle of this, she would know something was up. Sam and I had never fought.

"Don't go like that..." He stood.

I turned back around one hand on the door handle. "It's okay. I just had to get it off my chest. I can't keep secrets from you."

It felt like my chest had cracked open. I’d never imagined I would say those words to anyone. I thought I was incapable, like some fucked up sociopath incapable of those feelings. But saying them and not hearing them back? I couldn't have imagined a pain worse than this. My very soul was burning in my chest, the flames leaving a jagged, blackened hole in the shape of him. I thought I was incapable of feelings before, and I missed it. I wished for the cold emptiness.

"No, you're rubbish at it. I was wondering why you've been avoiding me." He lifted his hand like he was going to reach out for me but then dropped it back to his side.

Still he said nothing about what I'd confessed.

"I didn't know where my head was. I'm not even sure what it means, but I couldn't keep avoiding you." I swallowed back the flood of emotion as I teetered on the balls of my feet, itching to get away.

Sam took a step towards me. "I missed you last night."

Hearing that almost hurt worse than the absence of the “I love you”. It was like a consolation prize. “I miss my cuddle buddy, but I don't love you.”

I nodded and pulled my hair back in a low tie to keep my hands busy.

He took another step and set his hand on my hip. "Steven."

"I don't want anything to change. Forget I said it,” I muttered, looking up at him. I wished I'd kept it to myself. Feelings were meant to be buried deep down and never let out, like I’d been doing my whole life. I should’ve protected myself.

He dragged his teeth over his lip. "I'm not gay."

"Well I didn't say I was either." Wave after wave of emotion crushed me. It was all I could do to keep my head above the tide, to not lose it in front of him. Sex wasn't even on my mind. I wasn’t even sure if I could be attracted to someone. This was different. I merely wanted the feeling I got when I was close to Sam. I didn't think that made me gay, or anything. I didn't want to have to define myself.

Keys jingled in the door, and we both stiffened. I shrugged out of his grasp, going to my room and closing the door behind me. I pressed my back against it and slid down to a seat, wanting to bang. "Fuck."

I hadn't thought he would say the words back to me, but I guess there had been a tiny seed of hope, deep in my mind, that had held out that he felt the same. He loved Charlie, and she deserved it. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to relieve some of the pain from the cavern that had opened up inside me.

Sam hadn't been able to keep his eyes off Charlie since the first day they’d met. She had integrated herself into our twosome when our coach had let her act as our team manager and swim with the boys as long as she could keep up with our practices without complaint. She was a wiry, female swimmer without an ounce of fat anywhere on her body. The first day, as the sole girl, she jumped into our lane and introduced herself, and she never left.

She became the sunshine in our lives. She was talkative and funny, but the most amusing part of her was that under all that perk was a metal-head, rebellious punk. A vegan and activist at fifteen, she could debate on world trade and politics better than our A.P. Econ teacher. She’d lived all over the world with her UN ambassador parents until they'd decided to settle down, taking prestigious teaching jobs to let her go to high school like a normal kid.

As the attractive jock, Sam had ignored all the other girls for years because he could never connect to the immature ones who caught his eye. But from the moment Charlie jumped in that pool and started blathering about the GDP, he was hooked. They hadn't started dating until the year after, but there weren’t many days from that point forward that she wasn't with us.

I had so many memories of her kindness. Being in love with her boyfriend felt like a heinous crime.

****

Valentine’s Day had fallen on a Tuesday freshman year of high school, and I was the only kid in the whole school who wasn't up in a buzz the Monday before about asking someone to be their valentine. Charlie and I usually ate lunch alone, since Sam had taken on an extra class.

My hair draped over my face as I bent forward to read my battered copy of Foundation. I didn't notice she sat down until she stuck a fork in my face.

"Want a bite?" she asked.

I looked up at the strange thing that sat on the prongs and then down to my untouched food and shook my head.

"Come on, Steve, it's seaweed hummus. I made it myself last night."

I shook head vigorously. "Not hungry." I closed my book and set it aside. Turning toward her I rested my head on my hand.

"You're missing out."

Todd Stern walked past and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Charlie, aren't you tired of that charity case? You should date a real man, not an androgynous fuck like him."

My cheeks flushed instantly. With my long hair, skinny form, and feminine features, I could easily pass for a female even with my height.

Charlie shot him a glance. "And I should, what, date a nescient man? I'll take the risk of being seen as a lesbian rather than empty headed for caring about looks instead of what's inside. That being said, I think Steven is hot." She waved him off. "I doubt you’d even know what androgynous meant if you hadn't looked it up special last night. So, why don't you go use your dictionary to figure out if I insulted you."

"Don't pick a fight with him over me," I whispered.

Todd walked off, but she held me in a hard stare.

The next morning, I walked into school to find my locker decorated. It had balloons and streamers and large, red glittery letters that read, “Will you be my Valentine?” My stomach dropped to my feet. I was sure it was a prank. I’d never shown interest in girls, and no one had shown any interest in me. Sex was not something that had ever crossed my mind. I saw people as just that, no attraction, no gender, just what they said or how they dressed.

I blew my hair out of my face and shuffled over to pull it open. Inside there was a large card and a heart-shaped container of chocolate. Well, that wasn't what I was expecting. I picked up the card and tore off the envelope. When I opened it “Nothing Else Matters” blared from tiny speakers in the crease. Instantly I snapped it closed, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. I got to school at least twenty minutes before most kids did, getting myself out of the house before my parents woke. When I saw no one was watching, I opened the card again and saw Charlie's bubbly handwriting inside. It read: Will you be my Valentine? A smile formed over my lips, and there was a tap on my shoulder.

Charlie was standing there in a tiny red dress and black Converse shoes. "You're not allowed to say no." She stuck out her hand and grabbed mine. "At least for the day, let's show those assholes.”

She laced her fingers with mine and squeezed my hand. We walked side by side to our first period where Todd sat. He scowled as we walked by his desk leaning into one another. She sat right next to me and kept her hand in mine the whole class. I knew right there, that Charlie would do anything for me.

****

Junior year of high school I found her in the locker room, crying, long after everyone had gone home from the girls' swim practice. I was there to pick up an extra lifeguard shift for lap swim. I heard a sound, but I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. The pool was deserted, and I had thought I was the only one there. I searched around, and when I opened the door to the locker room, I saw her sitting there. Still in her suit from practice, hunched over with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.

"Char, what’s wrong?” I asked, taking the seat next to her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she melted into me.

She sobbed, not saying anything.

“Charlie, you're scaring me." My mind whirled at all the things that could have gone wrong. I was starting to worry that someone had died.

"Do you need me to drive you home?" I bit my lip and leaned into her.

"Nooo," she whispered through a hiccup and finally looked up at me. Black mascara dripped down her face mixed with old and new tears. "I ... I ... I ... my father has cancer." She buried her face in my chest.

I stroked my fingers through her hair. "Fuck, I'm so sorry." That was how cruel the world was. My own father who drank so much his liver should have exploded by now was alive and well without a health concern in the world, whereas Charlie’s father who was a model citizen and vegan was stricken with something life-threatening.

She picked up her face and shook her head. Her porcelain skin was red and splotchy, but she tried to force a smile as she wiped her eyes. "It's okay, you don't have to take me home. I'll be okay. I just lost it for a second."

I grabbed her chin with my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at me. "Have you been here since practice?"

She nodded.

"It's been two hours."

She sucked one of her full, pink lips into her mouth. "Don't tell anyone."

I shook my head. "Never. I'm going to close up and drive you home. I'll come get you in the morning so you don't have to worry about your car."

"Okay." Her breath caught, and she slowly got to her feet.

I wrapped my arm around her to steady her. "Have you told Sam?"

"Yes, but please don't tell him about … this. I can't be like this with him."

I pulled her into a long hug, and she pressed her face into my chest again, wiping it on my shirt. "Why not?" My brow creased in the center.