Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Two
Page 35
“Great,” Preppy said, blowing out a breath.
“And when he leaves we need to talk,” I said, trying not to sound affected by him.
“About what?” Preppy asked. The doorbell rang.
I adjusted my hair and right before I opened the door to let in the realtor and his clients I turned back to Preppy and swallowed hard.
“Our divorce.”
DRE
We never did have a conversation about a divorce although we needed to have it at some point. Or maybe an annulment instead, but I was pretty sure if there were time restrictions on those type of things that we’d long surpassed it. We didn’t talk about what happened to him either.
Or much of anything else for that matter.
It had been a little over a week since Preppy moved in. He rarely came out of Mirna’s old room and I noticed when he did it was only at night. If he ever was up and about during the day the first thing he would do was shut the blinds and put his sunglasses on. I knew he was having trouble with light and I saw at the party what happened to him when the volume of life around him got too loud.
There were flashes of the old Preppy from time to time. A snide remark. Innuendo about my short skirts. The burning glare of desire in his sad eyes that made my knees weak and my heart want to burst inside my chest.
Several times a night he’d scream through his nightmares and when I tried to go in to help him I couldn’t. The door was always locked. I’d sit in the hallway with my back on the other side of the door and listen to him battle whatever demons he fought off in his dreams until the screams subsided.
When I couldn’t sleep I’d fire up my laptop and research conditions of people who’d gone through traumatic situations. Counseling and medication were the two recommendations although Preppy would NEVER agree to counseling and self medicating was more his thing.
I sighed and bookmarked the page, clicking over to the Logan’s Beach realty site to see if anything else had recently sold in the area and I was surprised that several homes in need of more repair and priced much higher had recently sold. I made a note to call East if there was something wrong with our listing, especially since the potential buyers the realtor showed the house to never came back with an offer and there hadn’t been a single interested buyer since then. Although part of me was relieved it hadn’t sold yet, part of me was frantic to make it happen. With the auction date approaching time was running out for my dad. I had to think of another creative way to either sell the house or make a substantial amount of money and FAST.
“Dad?” I asked when my phone rang. “Dad is everything okay? It’s late.”
“Everything’s fine here. I was just checking to make sure everything is okay there. Brandon told me what happened with that boy and I was concerned that...” He paused and I heard his guilt dripping into the phone.
“You wanted to know if I was using again.”
“Yes,” my dad answered honestly.
“No, dad. I’m not. I haven’t thought about it,” I said, and with that statement I was proud. “Although I had two glasses of wine with a friend the other night and guess what happened...” I said.
“What?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I whispered. “Except maybe a lot of laughter and me falling asleep before eight pm.”
My dad laughed softly. “I’m so proud of you, Andrea.”
I stood up and walked out into the backyard. The cool night air felt like heaven against my damp skin. After I slid the door shut I turned around and jumped back against the door, dropping my phone.
“Hello?” I heard my dad saying. I leaned down and picked up the phone. “Hey dad. Everything is fine, but I have to go. I’ll call you back in the morning.” I clicked the phone shut and slowly descended the steps. My eyes focused on Preppy who was sitting in the backyard under the light of the moon with his face tilted up toward the sky, moaning and rocking from side to side as if he were in pain.
Naked.
Very VERY naked.
The brutal red and white scars slashing through his once beautiful tattoos made me want to run my hands over them as if I could heal him. I wanted to weep for him and kill the fucker who did this to him.
I stepped around him and crouched down so we were at eye level. His eyes shot open. His bloodshot and unfocused gaze met mine.
“Help me.”
****
“How do you want me to help you?” I whispered. I didn’t know what kind of episode he was having. Fuck, I didn’t even know if he was awake so I didn’t want to scare him by talking too loud.
He reached out and pushed the string of my tank top off my shoulder. His touch made my body shudder. He pushed off the other strap and then tugged at the hem of my shirt. “Please,” he begged softly, but there was nothing sexual about what he was asking. There was no desire in his eyes. Only pain.
I slowly undressed, pulling down my panties and stepping out of them before kneeling down before him. “Come here,” he whispered, tugging me by the shoulders until I was straddling him. He was partially hard, just feeling him against me made me want to throw caution to the wind and put him inside of my body but this wasn’t about me.
I wasn’t even really sure what it was really about but whatever it was, he needed it so I was going to do my best to give it to him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his head against my naked chest. He breathed in and out slowly like he was trying to steady himself and then I realized he was trying not to cry. A few moments later his shoulders shook.
“Let go,” I whispered, holding him tighter against me. “Let it all go,”
Preppy’s shoulders shook harder and I felt his warm tears against my skin. I felt my own tears start and once they did I couldn’t stop them.
So there we sat. In the backyard. Naked. Wrapped in each other’s arms until the sun came up.
I woke up in the grass, covered by a blanket.
Preppy was gone.
I trudged back up to the house and thought back to when I first met Preppy. I was vulnerable. Weak. Everyone in my life had tried to tip-toe around me while they worked their asses off to save me.
Not Preppy.
It pained me that I had to leave Logan’s Beach when the house sold. It broke my heart that Preppy and I could never have a shot at anything real, not once he learned about the secret I was keeping from him. But I smiled to myself anyway, because when I was weak Preppy saved me by giving me his strength.
“And when he leaves we need to talk,” I said, trying not to sound affected by him.
“About what?” Preppy asked. The doorbell rang.
I adjusted my hair and right before I opened the door to let in the realtor and his clients I turned back to Preppy and swallowed hard.
“Our divorce.”
DRE
We never did have a conversation about a divorce although we needed to have it at some point. Or maybe an annulment instead, but I was pretty sure if there were time restrictions on those type of things that we’d long surpassed it. We didn’t talk about what happened to him either.
Or much of anything else for that matter.
It had been a little over a week since Preppy moved in. He rarely came out of Mirna’s old room and I noticed when he did it was only at night. If he ever was up and about during the day the first thing he would do was shut the blinds and put his sunglasses on. I knew he was having trouble with light and I saw at the party what happened to him when the volume of life around him got too loud.
There were flashes of the old Preppy from time to time. A snide remark. Innuendo about my short skirts. The burning glare of desire in his sad eyes that made my knees weak and my heart want to burst inside my chest.
Several times a night he’d scream through his nightmares and when I tried to go in to help him I couldn’t. The door was always locked. I’d sit in the hallway with my back on the other side of the door and listen to him battle whatever demons he fought off in his dreams until the screams subsided.
When I couldn’t sleep I’d fire up my laptop and research conditions of people who’d gone through traumatic situations. Counseling and medication were the two recommendations although Preppy would NEVER agree to counseling and self medicating was more his thing.
I sighed and bookmarked the page, clicking over to the Logan’s Beach realty site to see if anything else had recently sold in the area and I was surprised that several homes in need of more repair and priced much higher had recently sold. I made a note to call East if there was something wrong with our listing, especially since the potential buyers the realtor showed the house to never came back with an offer and there hadn’t been a single interested buyer since then. Although part of me was relieved it hadn’t sold yet, part of me was frantic to make it happen. With the auction date approaching time was running out for my dad. I had to think of another creative way to either sell the house or make a substantial amount of money and FAST.
“Dad?” I asked when my phone rang. “Dad is everything okay? It’s late.”
“Everything’s fine here. I was just checking to make sure everything is okay there. Brandon told me what happened with that boy and I was concerned that...” He paused and I heard his guilt dripping into the phone.
“You wanted to know if I was using again.”
“Yes,” my dad answered honestly.
“No, dad. I’m not. I haven’t thought about it,” I said, and with that statement I was proud. “Although I had two glasses of wine with a friend the other night and guess what happened...” I said.
“What?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I whispered. “Except maybe a lot of laughter and me falling asleep before eight pm.”
My dad laughed softly. “I’m so proud of you, Andrea.”
I stood up and walked out into the backyard. The cool night air felt like heaven against my damp skin. After I slid the door shut I turned around and jumped back against the door, dropping my phone.
“Hello?” I heard my dad saying. I leaned down and picked up the phone. “Hey dad. Everything is fine, but I have to go. I’ll call you back in the morning.” I clicked the phone shut and slowly descended the steps. My eyes focused on Preppy who was sitting in the backyard under the light of the moon with his face tilted up toward the sky, moaning and rocking from side to side as if he were in pain.
Naked.
Very VERY naked.
The brutal red and white scars slashing through his once beautiful tattoos made me want to run my hands over them as if I could heal him. I wanted to weep for him and kill the fucker who did this to him.
I stepped around him and crouched down so we were at eye level. His eyes shot open. His bloodshot and unfocused gaze met mine.
“Help me.”
****
“How do you want me to help you?” I whispered. I didn’t know what kind of episode he was having. Fuck, I didn’t even know if he was awake so I didn’t want to scare him by talking too loud.
He reached out and pushed the string of my tank top off my shoulder. His touch made my body shudder. He pushed off the other strap and then tugged at the hem of my shirt. “Please,” he begged softly, but there was nothing sexual about what he was asking. There was no desire in his eyes. Only pain.
I slowly undressed, pulling down my panties and stepping out of them before kneeling down before him. “Come here,” he whispered, tugging me by the shoulders until I was straddling him. He was partially hard, just feeling him against me made me want to throw caution to the wind and put him inside of my body but this wasn’t about me.
I wasn’t even really sure what it was really about but whatever it was, he needed it so I was going to do my best to give it to him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his head against my naked chest. He breathed in and out slowly like he was trying to steady himself and then I realized he was trying not to cry. A few moments later his shoulders shook.
“Let go,” I whispered, holding him tighter against me. “Let it all go,”
Preppy’s shoulders shook harder and I felt his warm tears against my skin. I felt my own tears start and once they did I couldn’t stop them.
So there we sat. In the backyard. Naked. Wrapped in each other’s arms until the sun came up.
I woke up in the grass, covered by a blanket.
Preppy was gone.
I trudged back up to the house and thought back to when I first met Preppy. I was vulnerable. Weak. Everyone in my life had tried to tip-toe around me while they worked their asses off to save me.
Not Preppy.
It pained me that I had to leave Logan’s Beach when the house sold. It broke my heart that Preppy and I could never have a shot at anything real, not once he learned about the secret I was keeping from him. But I smiled to myself anyway, because when I was weak Preppy saved me by giving me his strength.
