Cut Wide Open
Page 4
Your nostrils flare, I’ve seen that look before.
“Mouse, go to my bike.” I look at you, not wanting you to do anything drastic. The guys in the jeep jump out. There are three more of them. I look at the guys and then to you. “Mouse, now!”
I move to your bike. You’re quick to throw a punch and then another. They try to hit you, but you’re fast and they are weak.
One screams, “My nose.”
Another, “Let’s go.”
You stalk towards me. There’s a power about you that’s unmistakable. The look on your face is raw. Primal. “Get on!” you order, then take my books from me and throw them in a side bag.
I’ve never been on your bike, but I’ve never seen you with anyone else on it either. I get on. Your hands reach behind you and you pull my arms around your waist. “Hang on,” you tell me and the bike roars to life.
Adrenaline pumps through me as you go faster and faster. I don’t feel invisible. I feel like I’m part of the wind, part of the road. My sole purpose is to move, and I’m moving holding on to YOU. I feel alive in a way I’ve been missing.
You pull into your driveway and I’m disappointed with how quickly the ride is over. You help me down and then ask me to come in. I’ve never been in your house before. I’m nervous.
It’s simple in decor inside. It’s clean, but feels empty. There is a nice, newer couch and a large TV. There are no pictures on the walls. The warmth that I’ve imagined through the window isn’t here. Maybe it once was, but not anymore.
You take me by the hand and guide me to your room. I follow you without hesitation. Your room is simple. A nice dresser against a wall. A window with black curtains. A bed, large with black blankets. A large T.V. mounted across from that with a gaming system on the floor. You close the door after you. We’re close. You get closer.
“That shit happen to you a lot, Mouse?” you ask with anger in your voice. I don’t know why you’re mad, but your nose is still flaring. I look down and see your knuckles are split open.
You don't like when I look away from you, so as my eyes turn down, you grab my chin to make sure my eyes meet yours. “Answer me.”
“I guess so. Last week it was outside of the girl’s locker room. Different guy. It happens. It’s not a big deal. I don't talk to them, and they eventually go away.”
“It’s a big fucking deal, Mouse. Nobody gets to talk to you like that. No one.” I shrug because it’s not really a big deal. I wish they didn't see me, and I wonder if that’s why he’s mad.
“It’s a big fucking deal. You’re young and innocent and have already been dealt a shitty blow. You don't deal with any more blows. Not now. Not ever. One day Mouse, I swear to God, I’m taking you out of here.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest.
I look up at you and bat my lashes. It’s not intentional. You make me feel vulnerable. You’re making promises to me, and I want to believe you. I have a bravery that I only feel when I’m with you, so in an uncharacteristic move, I grab your hand.
“Why would it bother you if boys start to notice me?” I gulp wanting the answer and being afraid of it all at once.
“You want that, Mouse? Boys in your space? Their eyes on you? Their hands on you?” You step closer to me. I should shy away, but I don’t. I look you in the eyes, loving the amber, browns and greens.
“I don't want boys in my space.” My eyes say what my mouth doesn't. Only yours.
“Then yeah, it bothers me. You been looking at me with those fucking doe eyes for far too fucking long. Been waiting for you to be okay enough in your skin that when I touch you, you won't shrivel from me.”
“You’re the only person that makes me feel safe, Gunner.”
You stalk to me. It’s predatory. I think you do it on purpose to see if I’ll flinch. You cup my face and pull me close. That’s when my world shifts.
Lips brush against my own. Gently at first. You test me. I’ve never been kissed before, you know this. You give me soft kisses, parting my lips and letting your tongue skim along the seam. For the first time, I feel right in my own skin. I feel bolder than I ever have. I dart my tongue out meeting yours. It’s soft, fleshy, sweet, a hint of tobacco. My boldness spurs you on. You take my mouth fully, twining your tongue alongside mine, then nipping at my lip. You tug my hair back and I moan into the kiss. It’s intoxicating. Raw. Everything I never knew I wanted.
You push me up against the bed and you lay down next to me. You never break the kiss. We kiss for hours.
Sixteen years old
4 months later
You’ve been busy lately, but you always make time for me. You were kicked out of school, but you try to be around as much as possible. You wait outside the school gates and pick me up from time to time. This makes me happy. I love when you surprise me.
We ride and then stop to make out. You’re careful not to go too far. You’ve slipped your fingers inside of me and I’ve used my hands on you. I love the way you make me feel. When we’re together, I come alive, maybe that’s what it’s been like watching you; a glimpse at living.
The boys at school stay clear of me. I often wonder if you’ve scared them all away and I secretly am thrilled with the idea that you have.
Today is different. Today, you're in a mood when you pick me up and I notice blood on your knuckles. We drive for a while, on a trek I’m familiar with. You pull the bike up to an abandoned junkyard. We’ve been here before. You like finding things you can use to build bikes. It’s something you’re good at. I tell you this and you shrug off my compliments, but I think you like that I love what you can build.
You hop off the bike and pace. I’m not sure what’s going on, but you seem like you need to collect yourself. I give you a minute, then another.
“Gunner?” I finally say.
You look at me. “Fuck, I got charges for assault. Hades says he’ll pull some strings if I join the club, or I’m facing time.”
Okay, I’m a bit confused at your reaction to this. “Assault? I ask looking at your hand. “Are you okay?”
You shake your hand and stretch out your fingers like you’re just now noticing they’re bloody. “This is nothing. I’m pissed because both of those options will mean less time with you.”
“Mouse, go to my bike.” I look at you, not wanting you to do anything drastic. The guys in the jeep jump out. There are three more of them. I look at the guys and then to you. “Mouse, now!”
I move to your bike. You’re quick to throw a punch and then another. They try to hit you, but you’re fast and they are weak.
One screams, “My nose.”
Another, “Let’s go.”
You stalk towards me. There’s a power about you that’s unmistakable. The look on your face is raw. Primal. “Get on!” you order, then take my books from me and throw them in a side bag.
I’ve never been on your bike, but I’ve never seen you with anyone else on it either. I get on. Your hands reach behind you and you pull my arms around your waist. “Hang on,” you tell me and the bike roars to life.
Adrenaline pumps through me as you go faster and faster. I don’t feel invisible. I feel like I’m part of the wind, part of the road. My sole purpose is to move, and I’m moving holding on to YOU. I feel alive in a way I’ve been missing.
You pull into your driveway and I’m disappointed with how quickly the ride is over. You help me down and then ask me to come in. I’ve never been in your house before. I’m nervous.
It’s simple in decor inside. It’s clean, but feels empty. There is a nice, newer couch and a large TV. There are no pictures on the walls. The warmth that I’ve imagined through the window isn’t here. Maybe it once was, but not anymore.
You take me by the hand and guide me to your room. I follow you without hesitation. Your room is simple. A nice dresser against a wall. A window with black curtains. A bed, large with black blankets. A large T.V. mounted across from that with a gaming system on the floor. You close the door after you. We’re close. You get closer.
“That shit happen to you a lot, Mouse?” you ask with anger in your voice. I don’t know why you’re mad, but your nose is still flaring. I look down and see your knuckles are split open.
You don't like when I look away from you, so as my eyes turn down, you grab my chin to make sure my eyes meet yours. “Answer me.”
“I guess so. Last week it was outside of the girl’s locker room. Different guy. It happens. It’s not a big deal. I don't talk to them, and they eventually go away.”
“It’s a big fucking deal, Mouse. Nobody gets to talk to you like that. No one.” I shrug because it’s not really a big deal. I wish they didn't see me, and I wonder if that’s why he’s mad.
“It’s a big fucking deal. You’re young and innocent and have already been dealt a shitty blow. You don't deal with any more blows. Not now. Not ever. One day Mouse, I swear to God, I’m taking you out of here.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest.
I look up at you and bat my lashes. It’s not intentional. You make me feel vulnerable. You’re making promises to me, and I want to believe you. I have a bravery that I only feel when I’m with you, so in an uncharacteristic move, I grab your hand.
“Why would it bother you if boys start to notice me?” I gulp wanting the answer and being afraid of it all at once.
“You want that, Mouse? Boys in your space? Their eyes on you? Their hands on you?” You step closer to me. I should shy away, but I don’t. I look you in the eyes, loving the amber, browns and greens.
“I don't want boys in my space.” My eyes say what my mouth doesn't. Only yours.
“Then yeah, it bothers me. You been looking at me with those fucking doe eyes for far too fucking long. Been waiting for you to be okay enough in your skin that when I touch you, you won't shrivel from me.”
“You’re the only person that makes me feel safe, Gunner.”
You stalk to me. It’s predatory. I think you do it on purpose to see if I’ll flinch. You cup my face and pull me close. That’s when my world shifts.
Lips brush against my own. Gently at first. You test me. I’ve never been kissed before, you know this. You give me soft kisses, parting my lips and letting your tongue skim along the seam. For the first time, I feel right in my own skin. I feel bolder than I ever have. I dart my tongue out meeting yours. It’s soft, fleshy, sweet, a hint of tobacco. My boldness spurs you on. You take my mouth fully, twining your tongue alongside mine, then nipping at my lip. You tug my hair back and I moan into the kiss. It’s intoxicating. Raw. Everything I never knew I wanted.
You push me up against the bed and you lay down next to me. You never break the kiss. We kiss for hours.
Sixteen years old
4 months later
You’ve been busy lately, but you always make time for me. You were kicked out of school, but you try to be around as much as possible. You wait outside the school gates and pick me up from time to time. This makes me happy. I love when you surprise me.
We ride and then stop to make out. You’re careful not to go too far. You’ve slipped your fingers inside of me and I’ve used my hands on you. I love the way you make me feel. When we’re together, I come alive, maybe that’s what it’s been like watching you; a glimpse at living.
The boys at school stay clear of me. I often wonder if you’ve scared them all away and I secretly am thrilled with the idea that you have.
Today is different. Today, you're in a mood when you pick me up and I notice blood on your knuckles. We drive for a while, on a trek I’m familiar with. You pull the bike up to an abandoned junkyard. We’ve been here before. You like finding things you can use to build bikes. It’s something you’re good at. I tell you this and you shrug off my compliments, but I think you like that I love what you can build.
You hop off the bike and pace. I’m not sure what’s going on, but you seem like you need to collect yourself. I give you a minute, then another.
“Gunner?” I finally say.
You look at me. “Fuck, I got charges for assault. Hades says he’ll pull some strings if I join the club, or I’m facing time.”
Okay, I’m a bit confused at your reaction to this. “Assault? I ask looking at your hand. “Are you okay?”
You shake your hand and stretch out your fingers like you’re just now noticing they’re bloody. “This is nothing. I’m pissed because both of those options will mean less time with you.”
