Gemma on the other hand… She does all of that and more. My emotions are so tangled up inside because I want her so fucking much, yet I’m afraid to want her so badly.
“You can’t do it,” I choke as my breath dwindles, my lungs constricting. It’s becoming harder to breathe. The room is spinning and the lights above our heads are dimming. “You care for me too much.”
“Stop saying that,” she growls, her face reddening with anger.
“No,” I say, however it sounds more like a groan. “I won’t.”
“Shut up!”
“You care for me. Admit it.”
She leans even closer and speaks slowly. “Think whatever you want, but the truth is, I feel nothing for you.” Her grip tightens. Suddenly the lights in her eyes turn off and there’s nothing there anymore. No life inside. No emotion. No Gemma. Maybe I’ve jumped to conclusions. Perhaps I’ve been wrong. Maybe she doesn’t care about me like I’ve thought she does. And if so, I’m not sure what to do about it now that I’ve realized how much I care about her. There’s no reversing that. She owns me now.
It feels like I should fight back, but I don’t. I have no idea whether it’s because I’m confused or if I’m simply so dizzy that my strength is gone. I start to fall. Sink into darkness. I think I’m dying and Gemma is the one doing it—killing me. I can’t breathe and the buzzing of the sparks is fizzling. I need to fight, yet I feel nothing…
“I think I might love you,” Gemma whispers in my ear as she holds onto me. “But I’m confused.”
“About what?” I ask, trying not to smile as I kiss her neck, my eyes shut, the cool air brushing across my skin as I breathe in her scent; lavender and vanilla. “About love?”
“Yes,” she says softly. “I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is that. Love or something else… can you tell me?”
I tense, my eyes remaining shut. “Tell you what?”
“What love is?” she whispers with a desperate plea in her voice, begging me to explain it to her, begging me to understand it.
I open my mouth to say something, but no noise comes out. I want to tell her everything—exactly what I feel—but I hesitate. Confused. Terrified. If I say it aloud, then everything changes. I’ll no longer be what I am. I’ll be weak. Vulnerable. She’ll have the power to break me, just like everyone else in my life has. My father. My mother.
“Gemma, I…” I trail off, pulling back to look at her, but I can’t see anything except darkness. It’s everywhere, yet I know she’s still there because I can feel the faint heat of the sparks and the touch of her breath.
“You don’t love me, do you?” she sounds on the verge of tears. “Oh, my God, I’m so stupid.”
No, you’re not, I want to say, but my lips are fastened, my voice dead. I want to shout that I do love her, however for some reason I can’t go to that place where I surrender.
And with each second that slips by, I feel her drifting away…
Chapter 5
(Alex)
I’ve only blacked out once that I can remember.
My father thought that the best way to teach me how to swim was to row me out into the middle of the lake and make me get into the water. After that, he left me there, saying the fear would force my swimming instincts to kick in because up until that point I had seemed to lack them. I was around ten years old, and although I had a good grasp on my emotions by then, I was still scared shitless as I struggled to stay afloat in the cold water while my father rowed away toward the shore. I gave a good fight, though; fought until the very end. I kept my eyes on the castle in the distance, hoping that if I stared at it, that somehow it’d come closer to me or I to it. Eventually it began to disappear; to slip out of my sight. I couldn’t hold myself up above the water anymore, so I started to sink. Water filled my lungs. My heart struggled to keep beating. I ended up blacking out. I thought I would die— thought that I’d never see the sky, the land, the castle again—and the scariest part of that was that there was very little fear in that thought.
I did wake up again, though; on the shore, coughing up water with the sky above me. I thought it was my father who’d saved me, that he’d seen that I wasn’t going to be able to swim and had come back to rescue me; that he cared enough about me that he didn’t want me to die. But it wasn’t. Aislin had been the one who swam out and saved me.
My father had been enraged. At me for giving up. At Aislin for helping me. He’d said we were useless. That we’d never amount to anything. That he wished I’d died instead of giving up. I should have been angry at him, but instead, I felt ashamed. I spent the next week in the lake, sinking and nearly drowning until, finally, I was able to swim.
I’ve tried not to rely on anyone ever since; tried to never be weakened by human emotion.
***
“Can you hear me?” someone says through the haziness in my head. “Nod your head if you can?”