Ugly Love
Ugly Love(11)
Author: Colleen Hoover
Go pee, Corbin says with agitation as he puts the car in park.
I wish I were in high school again so I could call him a butthole. Adults dont call their brothers buttholes, though.
I get out of the car and feel a little more like I can breathe again, until Miles opens his door and steps out of the car and into the world. Now Miles seems even bigger, and my lungs seem smaller. We walk together into the gas station, but we dont speak.
Its funny how that works. Sometimes not speaking says more than all the words in the world. Sometimes my silence is saying, I dont know how to speak to you. I dont know what youre thinking. Talk to me. Tell me everything youve ever said. All the words. Starting from your very first one.
I wonder what his silence is saying.
Once were inside, he spots the sign for the bathrooms first, so he nods his head and steps in front of me. He leads. I let him. Because hes a solid and Im a liquid, and right now, Im just his wake.
When we reach the bathrooms, he walks into the mens restroom without pause. He doesnt turn and look at me. He doesnt wait for me to walk into the womens first. I push the door open, but I dont need to use the restroom. I just wanted to breathe, but hes not letting me. Hes invading. I dont think he means to. Hes just invading my thoughts and my stomach and my lungs and my world.
Thats his superpower. Invasion.
The Invader and the Infiltrator. They pretty much have the same meaning, so I guess we make one screwed-up team.
I wash my hands and waste enough time to make it seem like I actually needed Corbin to stop here. I open the door to the bathroom, and hes invading again. Hes in my way, standing in front of the doorway that Im trying to exit.
He doesnt move, even though hes invading. I dont really want him to, though, so I let him stay.
You want something to drink? he asks.
I shake my head. I have water in the car.
Hungry?
I tell him Im not. He seems slightly disappointed that I dont want anything. Maybe he doesnt want to go back to the car yet.
I might want some candy, though, I say.
One of his rare and treasured smiles slowly appears. Ill buy you some candy, then.
He turns and walks toward the candy aisle. I stop next to him and look at my options. We stare at the candy for way too long. I dont even really want any, but we both stare at it anyway and pretend we do.
This is weird, I whisper.
Whats weird? he asks. Picking out candy or having to pretend we dont both want to be in the backseat right now?
Wow. I feel like I really did infiltrate his thoughts somehow. Only they were words that he willingly spoke. Words that made me feel really good.
Both, I say steadily. I turn to face him. Do you smoke?
He gives me the look again. The look that tells me Im weird.
I dont care.
Nope, he replies casually.
Remember those candy cigarettes they sold when we were kids?
Yeah, he says. Kind of morbid, if you think about it.
I nod. Corbin and I used to get those all the time. Theres no way in hell Id let my child buy those things.
I doubt they make them anymore, Miles says.
We face the candy again.
Do you? he asks.
Do I what?
Smoke.
I shake my head. Nope.
Good, he says. We stare at the candy a little bit longer. He turns to face me, and I glance up at him. Do you even want any candy, Tate?
Nope.
He laughs. Then I guess we should get back to the car.
I agree with him, but neither of us moves.
He reaches down to my hand and touches it so softly its as if hes aware hes made of lava and Im not. He grips two of my fingers, not even coming close to holding my entire hand, and gives them a soft tug.
Wait, I say to him, tugging back on his hand. He glances at me over his shoulder and then turns to face me completely. What did you say to my father this morning? Before we left?
His fingers tighten around mine, and his expression doesnt deviate from the poignant look hes perfected. I apologized to him.
He turns toward the door once again, and I follow him this time. He doesnt release my hand until were close to the exit. When he finally does let my hand fall, I evaporate again.
I follow him toward the car and hope I dont really believe Im capable of infiltration. I remind myself hes made of armor. Hes impenetrable.
I dont know if I can do this, Miles. I dont know if I can follow rule number two, because I suddenly want to climb into your future more than I want to climb into the backseat with you.
Long line, Miles says to Corbin once were both inside the car. Corbin puts the car in drive and changes the radio station. He doesnt care how long the line was. He wasnt suspicious, or he would have said something. Besides, theres nothing to be suspicious of yet.
We drive for a good fifteen minutes before I realize Im not thinking about Miles anymore. For the last fifteen minutes of the drive, my thoughts have just been memories.
Remember when we were kids and we wished our superpower could be to fly?
Yeah, I remember, Corbin says.
You have your superpower now. You can fly.
Corbin smiles at me in the rearview mirror. Yeah, he says. I guess that makes me a superhero.
I lean back in the seat and stare out the window, a little envious of both of them. Envious of the things theyve seen. The places theyve traveled. Whats it like, watching the sunrise from up in the air?
Corbin shrugs. I dont really look at it, he says. Im too busy working when Im up there.
This makes me sad. Dont take it for granted, Corbin.
I look, Miles says. Hes staring out his window, and his voice is so quiet I almost dont hear it. Every time Im up there, I watch it.
He doesnt say what its like, though. His voice is distant, like he wants to keep that feeling to himself. I let him.
You bend the laws of the universe when you fly, I say. Its impressive. Defying gravity? Watching sunrises and sunsets from places Mother Nature didnt intend for you to watch them from? You really are superheroes, if you think about it.
Corbin glances at me in the rearview mirror and laughs. Dont take it for granted, Corbin. Miles isnt laughing, though. Hes still staring out his window.
You save lives, Miles says to me. Thats way more impressive.
My heart absorbs those words on impact.
Rule number two is not looking good from back here.
Chapter twelve
MILES
Six years earlier
Rule number one of no fooling around while our parents are
home has been amended.
It now consists of making out but only when were behind a
locked door.
Rule number two stands firm, unfortunately. Still no sex.
And a rule number three was recently added: no sneaking
around at night. Lisa still checks on Rachel in the middle of
the night sometimes, only because Lisa is the mother of a
teenage daughter and its the right thing to do.
But I hate that she does it.
Weve made it an entire month in the same house. We dont
talk about the fact that there are just a little more than five
months left. We dont talk about what will happen when my
father marries her mother. We dont talk about the fact that
when this happens, well be connected for much longer than
five months.
Holidays.
Weekend visits.
Reunions.
Well both have to attend every function, but well be
attending as family.
We dont talk about that, because it makes us feel like what
were doing is wrong.
We also dont talk about it because its hard. When I think
about the day she moves to Michigan and I stay in San
Francisco, I cant see beyond that. I cant see anything where
she wont be my everything.
Well be back Sunday, he says.
Youll have the house to yourself. Rachel is staying with a
friend. You should invite Ian over.
I did, I lie.
Rachel lied, too. Rachel will be here all weekend. We
dont want to give them any reason to suspect us. Its
hard enough trying to ignore her in front of them. Its
hard pretending I have nothing in common with her,
when I want to laugh at everything she says. I want to
high-five everything she does. I want to brag to my father
about her intelligence, her good grades, her kindness,
her quick-wittedness. I want to tell him I have this really
amazing girlfriend whom I want him to meet because he
would absolutely love her.
He does love her. Just not in the way I wish he loved her.
I want him to love her for me.
We tell our parents goodbye. Lisa tells Rachel to behave, but
Lisa isnt really worried. As far as Lisa knows, Rachel is good.
Rachel behaves. Rachel doesnt break rules.
Except rule number three. Rachel is definitely breaking rule
number three this weekend.
We play house.
We pretend its ours. We pretend its our kitchen, and she cooks
for me. I pretend shes mine, and I follow her around while
she cooks, holding on to her. Touching her. Kissing her neck.
Pulling her away from the tasks shes trying to complete so I
can feel her against me. She likes it, but she pretends not to.
When were finished eating, she sits with me on the couch. We
put on a movie, but it doesnt get watched at all. We cant stop
kissing. We kiss so much our lips hurt. Our hands hurt. Our
stomachs hurt, because our bodies want to break rule number
two so, so bad.
Its gonna be a long weekend.
I decide I need a shower, or Ill be begging for an amendment
to rule number two.
I take a shower in her bathroom. I like this shower. I like it
more than I liked it back when it was just my shower. I like
seeing her things in here. I like looking at her razor and
imagining what she looks like when she uses it. I like looking
at her shampoo bottles and thinking about her with her head
tilted back beneath the stream of water as she rinses it out of
her hair.
I love that my shower is her shower, too.
Miles? she says. Shes knocking, but shes already inside the
bathroom. The water is hot on my skin, but her voice just
made it even hotter. I open the shower curtain. Maybe I open
it too far because I want her to want to break rule number two.
She inhales a soft breath, but her eyes fall where I want
them to.
Rachel, I say, grinning at the embarrassed look on her face.
She looks me in the eyes.
She wants to take a shower with me. Shes just too shy to ask.
Get in, I say.
My voice is hoarse, like Ive been screaming.
My voice was fine five seconds ago.
I close the shower curtain to hide what shes doing to me but
also to give her privacy while she undresses. I havent seen her
without her clothes on. Ive felt whats underneath them.
Im suddenly nervous.
She turns the light off.
Is that fine? she asks timidly. I say it is, but I wish she were
more confident. I need to make her more confident.
She opens the shower curtain, and I see one of her legs make
its way in first. I swallow when the rest of her body follows.
Luckily, theres just enough light from the night-light to cast a
faint glow over her.
I can see her enough.
I can see her perfectly.
Her eyes lock with mine again. She steps closer to me. I
wonder if shes ever shared a shower with anyone before, but
I dont ask her. I take a step toward her this time, because she
seems scared. I dont want her to be scared.
Im scared.
I touch her shoulders and guide her so that shes standing
under the water. I dont press myself against her, even though I
need to. I keep distance between us.
I have to.
The only things that connect are our mouths. I kiss her softly,
barely touching her lips, but it hurts so bad. It hurts worse than
any other kiss weve shared. Kisses where our mouths collide.
Our teeth collide. Frantic kisses that are so rushed theyre
sloppy. Kisses that end with me biting her lip or her biting
mine.
None of those kisses hurt like this one does, and I cant tell
why this one is hurting so much.
I have to pull back. I tell her to give me a minute, and she nods,
then rests her cheek against my chest. I lean back against the
wall and pull her with me while I keep my eyes closed tightly.
The words are once again attempting to break the barrier
Ive built up around them. Every time Im with her, they want
to come out, but I work and work to cement the wall that
surrounds them. She doesnt need to hear them.
I dont need to say them.
But theyre pounding on the walls. They always pound so hard
until all our kisses end up like this. Me needing a minute and
her giving me one. They need out now worse than ever before.
They need air. Theyre demanding to be heard.
Theres only so much pounding I can take before the walls
collapse.
There are only so many times my lips can touch hers without
the words spilling over the walls, breaking through the cracks,