I was almost finished with my coffee as I listened to Debbie and my father leave, calling out a last goodbye. As I ate my breakfast, I thought about how Blake and I would be completely alone. My palms got sweaty just thinking about our past kisses, my heart beating at the anticipation and excitement that flowed through me. I harshly reminded myself that I had to be extra careful around Blake so that we couldn’t have any more slip-ups.
I flipped through tv channels, humming quietly to myself. I knew it wasn’t much of a distraction, and every second ticked by wickedly slowly, making me aware of his absence.
I had been trying so hard to avoid him, and now we were stuck alone together for the entire winter break. I had two options: I could either hide out in my room all break, or I could spend some time with him and pretend I didn’t want to kiss him every single second we were near each other. I shook my head and focused on the television. I wouldn’t let Blake ruin my vacation.
A couple hours passed by, and I started to get hungry. I headed upstairs, deciding now would be a good time to get dressed. I passed Blake’s room, and out of my peripheral vision, saw that it was open. I continued to walk past. Blake was not too far from the door, on the ground doing push-ups.
I ran to my room, putting his sculpted muscles and broad shoulders out of my mind. I stood in the middle of the room, panting as my heart picked up speed. I forced my anxious body to calm down before getting dressed. I took a few deep breaths, slid off my robe, and began to undress. I was standing only in my underwear when I heard a throat clear behind me.
Blake stood in my doorway, his eyes glued to my almost naked body. I must not have shut my door, and I panicked, covering myself. Blake mumbled, “Sorry,” and left quickly.
My face turned red from embarrassment, and I scolded myself as I slid on a pair of yoga pants and a loose, white t-shirt, not bothering with a bra. I went downstairs to the kitchen to get a sandwich, hoping Blake had returned to his room. I entered the kitchen and came face to face with him.
“Hey.” He greeted me awkwardly, shifting where he stood and eating a bowl of cereal.
“Hi,” I responded, moving around him to the fridge. I was very aware of his body, of his presence. My eyes remained on the floor. I could feel the tension crackling around me, and it felt like I was being pulled towards Blake. I distanced myself as much as possible, my fists clenched at my sides. It had only been a few hours, but I was drowning in the temptation of being alone with him. How was I going to survive the whole break?
He was quiet for a moment. All I could hear was his chewing as he ate his cereal in the silence. I had been staring into the fridge for a while, and I shut it quickly, my appetite lost. Blake moved to the sink to rinse out his bowl. I walked past him quickly, but he turned, grabbing my arm roughly, letting his bowl drop in the sink and break with a loud, smashing sound.
I looked up at him with wide eyes. “Blake!” I cried, confused and disoriented.
He stared at me with dark and brooding eyes, breathing heavily. “Talk to me, Alyssa. Don’t pretend I’m not here.”
I pulled my arm out of his grip with a nasty look, but I didn’t move away from him. Instead, I matched his intensity. “What is your problem? You broke a perfectly good bowl.” I pushed past him angrily to slowly pick up the sharp ceramic pieces.
“Stop,” he commanded, his voice harsh.
I ignored him and continued to pick up the pieces. “Someone has to clean this mess up,” I said pointedly.
Blake moved fast, his hand reaching down to wrap around my wrist. He yanked it up, spilling the pieces all over the floor, the shards making a sprinkling noise as they flew across the linoleum. I was angry and reached my other hand up, pushing him square in the chest, and he released my arm but continued to stare at me.
“What the fuck is your problem, Blake?” I screeched, hot, angry tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
“Aren’t you listening? You are my problem, Alyssa. Stop acting like this!” He was yelling, too, and veins popped from his forehead and neck. His face reddened. I had never seen him like this, and I was frozen in fear.
He was only a few inches from me. I looked away, unable to take his harsh scrutiny any longer. I was afraid to move or to say anything. I listened as his labored breathing slowed. I watched silently as his hand reached for my face, slower and gentler than his previous movements.
Blake cupped my cheek, and even though I wanted to pull away, I leaned into the comfort of his touch, having missed his skin on mine. He pulled my face up to look at him, and with wide eyes, I saw his expression fill with such pain and heartbreak that all my defenses crumbled. I looked into his eyes, which were watery with tears. My heart broke as I watched one roll slowly down his cheek.
In a soft, wounded voice he whispered, “Please, Alyssa.”
“What?” I whispered back, searching his green eyes desperately, knowing that whatever he wanted I would give him. I would have moved mountains for him if it meant I never had to see him hurting again.