So we went upstairs and everything changed. Yes it hurt, but Adam was so gentle, so caring and he was always making sure I was alright. I was and I was very glad I’d waited, done this with him. I had no regrets, no worries. Right up until my Dad came home.
We must have dozed for a while, it’s the only reason I can think of for why Adam was still very much in my bed and very much naked when Dad came home. Luckily Adam had walked over, so his Mom’s car wasn’t in the drive, but we still had to find a way to get him out before my Dad saw him. I managed to yell out to Dad that I was awake and would be down in a second. When I turned around Adam was pulling his jeans on and looking petrified. I walked over to him and said, "Hey, it’s ok, slow down, he won’t come in, I promise."
Adam stopped and looked at me, his hand reaching out to smooth my hair back before he said, "Yeah but if he does and finds us like this, then I’m dead!"
I laughed quietly. "Yeah maybe, but he won’t come in, don’t worry."
"Thank god I couldn’t have the car," Adam whispered as he finished getting dressed. "I’ve never been more glad I had to walk in all my life."
When we were both dressed I looked at Adam and said, "You wanna go out the window? My brother used to do it all the time."
Adam stepped towards me then, a lot more relaxed now we both had our clothes on. "What I really want to do is crawl back into that bed with you," he whispered before kissing me gently. I could feel my legs turn to jelly, the want build up in me, the desire to try it all over again. "But I think maybe the window is a smarter option."
I smiled then, before leaning in to kiss him and whisper, "Thanks for coming over tonight."
He pulled me closer to him then, wrapping his arms around me as he said, "Thank you Ash, thank you."
And that’s when I knew I was head over heels in love with him. That’s when I knew, it really was real, and that he felt exactly the same way. Somehow without either of us saying it, I knew. The funny thing is, I never actually told Adam exactly how I felt about him. I was still too afraid to say those words and I guess a part of me wondered how real they were, I mean we were kids for god’s sake, what did we know.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t fallen for him, but other times I wouldn’t have traded those six months for anything and I just wish I could’ve told him how I felt, while I still had the chance. But in the end he died never knowing.
I wish that could absolve me from what happened, but it can’t and it never will. It was still all my fault.
∞
Late the next day, after Luke has once again made me some lunch, which we have once again eaten together, I’m walking into the kitchen to return the plate when I can’t help but overhear him on the phone. It’s hard not to as he seems pretty angry with whoever he’s talking to and is not exactly speaking quietly. I really need to get some milk from the cold room while I’m out here, so I drop the plate in the sink and silently walk over to it, trying very hard not to look at him or act like I’m listening to the conversation.
But I can’t help but hear some of it.
"….No! You can’t fucking do that!"
He sounds very angry.
"….you don’t control her, she’s an adult and you can’t tell either of us what to do anymore."
I wonder who he’s referring to, who he’s talking to like this. I slip into the cold room and wait there for a minute, my back resting against the cold wall. It’s nice sometimes, to escape in here, where the rest of the world is somewhere else and the cold temperature can dull everything. Still I hear fragments of conversation coming through.
"….fucking hell, why can’t you just accept it. Why can’t you stop trying to control everyone and everything? Why can’t you just listen to anyone for once in your life? Don’t fucking call me again!"
I’ve never heard Luke talk like this before, never heard him get angry at anything. Finally he stops yelling and I hear the sound of a phone being thrown against something hard, probably the kitchen wall. I look around the cold room trying to decide whether now’s a good time to walk back out. I secretly hope Luke has left the kitchen so I don’t have to see him, don’t have to let him know that I’ve heard the things he has said.
I quickly grab a two gallon bottle of milk and push the door open, taking a chance. When I step out, I see Luke is crouched down beside a phone that is now in several pieces on the floor. He looks up at me and I can see frustration and sadness on his face. He looks like he wishes he hadn’t done that, but that there was nothing he could do to stop it. I immediately feel bad for him and without thinking I crouch down and begin to pick up the pieces of shattered phone as well.
"Are you okay?" I whisper without looking at him, still picking up the tiny pieces of black plastic from the floor.
I see him reach over and throw all the pieces he has collected into the trash. "No, yes…I don’t know." He sounds very frustrated.