Summer 17 (Ch. 4 not done)

~Chapter 4~

His green eyes were so agitated; I thought I was going to laugh. I couldn’t believe the twist of his now forced smile or the bend of his eyebrow. His voice had been so soft, his smile so quite; but I had managed to make him hate me. I imagined us as the cowboys in the old westerns mom loves, hands cocked readily over shining pistols, eyes testing the others. Except, he was going to rip my hair out and I would smash his shins out with my un-covered feet on his way over.
He was so expressionless, but his face shone plainly that he was both angry and afraid of me. Only moments before I had broken down, crumpled even closer to the ground then before in despair. I couldn’t stop, and it poured down my face, mixing with blood and running over my parted lips. My hair stuck to my confused face, twisting into my eyes. The headlights beamed unforgiving, but I couldn’t see out beyond me. I was alone in the world, and not even Jake could reach in and pull me out. I had dug myself a hole, so deep in the ground…
Suddenly the lights faded, and my searing stained eyes relaxed. Although I couldn’t see through the tears lolling in my eyes, I looked up peaceably into his face. His dark green eyes were amused and afraid, his head cocked to the side. His mouth was a firm line now, not taking any crap I might blow at him next. He crouched beside me, careful not to come too close, and looked in my eyes. I didn’t look away, nor could I bring myself to. I wanted to hate him so badly, to make him go away. But I couldn’t let him go. There was something in his eyes, his light little mouth, like the faintest smile. There was something different and so familiar in his careful eyes, like an old relative you haven’t seen for years. Did he not hate me? I looked further into his eyes, imagined peering into his brain. He wasn’t like my scowling friends. He sat near me and let me cry, he didn’t order me to suck it and shut up.
The tears stopped their flood, and the trickled out into my hair and cheeks. I opened my mouth hoarsely, not sure how to react to the random act of kindness I didn’t want or expect. There was so much understanding in his face, a grim smile tried to poke the sides of my lips. But then, how could he?
I realized my body had quit trembling; my eyes were wide staring back into the stranger’s, who knelt beside me, knuckles knitted together and at his lips as he thoughtfully chewed his lip. We both sat against the bumper of his truck, and he’d switched the high beams off for the sake my red eyes.
“What,” I choked at him. His eyes slid in my direction tentatively. “Do you want something?”
White teeth flashed as his startled expression turned to me, “What?”
“You heard me!” my teeth grinded, “What? You want something? I don’t have anything! See?” I motioned to my car. I knew I sounded dumb, but then again what was I doing? What did I want to do? I couldn’t imagine what was happening suddenly. I panicked again. His face went blank.
“N-no, I don’t want anything,” he nodded at my head, “it looked like you needed help.”
“I don’t,” I lied, “I know what I’m doing, don’t treat me like a baby!” I screeched, trying to raise myself off the ground. He was already up, eyes carefully waiting for me to fall. But I didn’t; I struggled to my feet with a glare. “See, I’m fine, you perv.” I spat. Then I gasped. What did I say?
His head swiveled around angrily. Eyebrows were cocked, but his mouth was quite a grin. My stomach sank. “What am I?” He laughed. “What am I now?”
“You heard it. Get on and out of here!” I swung my arms, nearly falling. “Why else would you stop on the road late at night? It’s not even a bad crash!” I pointed a finger at him that would have been considered offensive when I was sane. “You saw I was a girl, didn’t you?”
“Well, I’m glad we have that mystery figured out,” he mumbled. “But you don’t understand. There was a call for a tow truck, you didn’t make it?”
My eyes became unnaturally wide, and I began to fear they might fall out. I remembered, quite vividly now, my fingers on the air bag, and the rear of the car in the road. In and out, in and out, my consciousness went. My head rolled and temples throbbed, the theme song for my mother’s TV show in my head. Then two faces popped in my brain, one tan, and the other very white. They peered in at me from the other side of the cracked glass. At first they met my glance, disturbed. Then I opened my mouth, attempting to beg for help. The faces crinkled in laughter, the pale one stuck his finger in the window, pointing to me like Jake did to the TV when he watched the Simpsons.
“No… I didn’t,” I stammered. I had sunk in against the hood again, a hand to my throat and the other steadying myself on the headlights. He was again at my side, eyes stern and authoritative, studying my head wound.
“You don’t need help, then?” he said flatly. I met his acid gaze full on. He didn’t flinch.
“N-o,” I forced the words out. A steady current flared between us. It was tension. He broke it by turning.
“’K, get to a hospital,” he waved from behind, not looking back.
“Wait!” I cried, limping up. “You’re… leaving me here?”
“That’s what you wanted, right? I’m the… perv… right?”
I bit my lip. Why had I said that? Why? Why did I hate myself so? I watched him climb in the front seat. I waited for his eyes to meet mine again, ask if I wanted to come along. But he only slammed the door shut and started the engine. He pulled out slowly.
I bit my lip. I didn’t want to move, or chase him down. No, definitely wouldn’t chase him down. I wouldn’t lower myself to that position. The lights moved further away, casting wide shadows as he pulled out slowly. The side of the truck read Apple Mechanics & Auto. So, he was a mechanic. But why was he out here this late? And why didn’t he come with a tow truck? The old pickup turned for the road. I swallowed. I wouldn’t go with him. Where would we go? Not the hospital, definitely not. My eyes rested on the license plate; Camden, Maine Chevrolet read the black dealer sticker. I stared at the window. Slowly, the window rolled down, radio humming quietly. An arm slipped over the side, followed by two bright green eyes. He was giving me one more chance.
A radio commercial struck a familiar note in my ears. I groaned. Nicole’s voice rang cheerfully for Netflix internet videos. I knew every word.
I ran after my mother’s voice. I swear that’s why I ran.
* O O *
In the morning, I found myself buried in an overly plushy pink bed. The heavy drapes were rolled over the windows, so I couldn’t see very much, but I could tell there were tiny white flowers all over the bed spread.
More of my squinting revealed a small couch or plushy chair next to the window, which probably had a love seat, which was covered in pillows. Also a headache began to pound my temples. I thrust my head back on the pillow, rubbing the scar on my forehead. How had I gotten here? Where was I? I could remember screaming at the pickup as it began pulling into the road. The passenger side door creaked open, and I was instantly greeted by the guy’s flashing smile. So white, so nice… and sarcastic. We didn’t say anything on the way; I fell asleep before we got to the house. The what? Had he carried me into the house? I sat up quickly, but the light blasted on.
“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t know you were awake. Sorry!” chirped a girl’s voice. My hands covered my eyes, painfully trying to banish the light.
“Ow!” I hissed. My head was throbbing; my eyes watered. But there was a little hand on my arm, and the light was turned off. I looked up.
Wow. The little girl before me I placed to be about eight or nine. Her pale blue eyes smiled apologetically, freckles popped on her fair skin. A little mouth pulled back and revealed a less than perfect set of teeth.
“I can’t believe you’re awake. After you crashed, literally, on the couch last night, I thought you’d be down for longer. But here you are! Look, I made breakfast for you!” her blonde ponytails bobbed as she placed the tray down on my lap carefully. I stared at her as she stepped back to give me room. Why did she seem so, familiar?
“Well, come on! Aren’t you hungry?” she laughed, plopping onto the plushy pink chair near the bed, sending the stuffed animals bounding into the air. “It’s just some eggs and toast. Well, orange juice too. But maybe you don’t like milk. I can get you…”
“No, no, no, it’s fine,” I smiled, “But, I’m sorry, have we met?”
Her face went blank, and then her eyebrows flew up. “Oooooooh,” she laughed, as if she’d been let in on a joke that I had yet to hear, “You don’t remember last night at all, do you?” she shook her head, guessing. “Dinner?”
“Huh? Uh, no,” I choked out, “What… dinner?”
“When you and Jay came home? He thought you were drunk at first, and we didn’t want to bring you to the hospital right away, y’know, if your parents wanted to hear it first? But then we realized you were pretty much just in shock, so we had dinner. Sure, it was like, one in the morning or something, but we talked to you while you had something to eat and Jay took a shower.” She smiled, “but, you don’t remember…?”
I shook my head. Suddenly I couldn’t eat. So, Jay must be the guy who picked me up. Then who’s we? And still, where was I? What had I told them? I gasped. Maybe they had called my mother, and she was headed here now!
“Well, in that case,” the girl started, sensing some of my discomfort, “I’m Michelle. You can call me Chelle though. Michelle is waay too long.” She laughed. “And you are Keelie, right?”
I nodded. “Who’s Jay?” She was startled for a moment, then grinned.
“Oh, he’s my older brother. You probably want to thank him, but he’s at work and you need rest,” she sat me back, pointing to my chilling food, “and eat.”
I ate, letting questions swim through my brain for later as I scarfed my breakfast. The pink of the room was slightly overwhelming; pink walls, bed sheets, even the over head light. Thankfully, the purple curtains offered not only a color variation but protection from the sun as well.
The view from the window was better though. The house itself sat on a hill the overlooking the sight; ocean swept the horizon, little houses dotted the island. A white sail boat floated in the bay, close to the docks. Tourist boats launched into the water, fishermen buzzed at the harbor. This was it, the place that was like home to me: Camden.