Reclaiming the Sand
Page 47
“Because you know me, Flynn. No one else pays attention to my feelings like you do,” I admitted.
Flynn chewed on his bottom lip and looked at me. He never once met my eyes but he stared at me intently all the same.
“I like making you smile. It makes me smile,” he said, his lips stretching into a beautiful grin.
I hesitantly reached out and took his hand, the same way I had done when we were teenagers. I linked our fingers together, pressing my palm against his.
The first time I had done this many years ago, he had pulled away. It had taken a while until he was comfortable enough for me to touch him. And I wasn’t sure we were at that stage now. So much time had passed since I had last touched him.
But seeing him happy, knowing how in tuned he was to me, I couldn’t help myself.
I shied from physical affection as much as Flynn did. That was one of the many reasons I had felt so connected to him in the early days of our friendship. Neither one of us could handle the implications of touch. Both of us were so isolated.
But then we had somehow found each other.
And here we were again. We were still those same disconnected people that we had been years ago, only now a little older and a little more damaged.
Once again I found myself reaching out to the only person I had ever felt safe with.
Flynn Hendrick.
The freak with Asperger’s. The boy whose life I had made miserable before I had made him happy. And then I had destroyed him before I could enjoy the changes he exacted in my life.
Or maybe I hadn’t destroyed him.
Maybe I had only succeeded in destroying myself.
Because Flynn didn’t seem ruined.
He seemed healthier than he had ever been before. His confidence, while still beleaguered, had grown by leaps and bounds.
This wasn’t a man who had been beaten down by circumstances. This was someone who embraced life the only way he could. The only way he allowed himself.
I pressed my hand into his and gave him a slight squeeze. I felt him stiffen and then pull away. His fingers escaping, recoiling.
Flynn clasped his hands together in front of him and started that incessant rubbing that I recognized all too well.
I curled my fingers into my palm and clenched them tightly. I felt his rejection acutely. I knew it wasn’t his fault. I knew his physical limitations. I felt them as well. But I had hoped…
That was the problem. I had hoped.
It would be so easy for me to get angry. To reject Flynn as surely as he had just rejected me. To call him names. To turn my back and walk away.
But I didn’t.
I dug my nails into my palm and gave Flynn a smile like he hadn’t just hurt me.
He had no idea what he had done.
“Where are you going now? Can I walk with you?” Flynn asked me. He was still rubbing his hands and I wished he’d stop. His anxiety was catching.
“I have a meeting with my advisor to talk about classes for next semester. I’m not sure I’m going to go though,” I said, telling him the thing I hadn’t quite admitted to myself yet.
Flynn stopped rubbing his hands and tucked them into the pocket of his pants. “Why wouldn’t you go? You have to pick out classes. That’s important,” he said, as if it were that easy.
“Did you go to college, Flynn?”
Flynn nodded. “Yes, I went to Guildford College. I graduated last year before Mom died. I majored in fine arts.” I wasn’t surprised. Flynn was smart. He was talented. Even at fifteen I had known he was destined for greater things than Wellsburg, West Virginia.
“I never went to school,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. The pair of us must look ridiculous, standing there, neither looking at the other.
“You’re at school now,” Flynn said, sounding confused.
My shoulders rose and fell in an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know if I can keep it up. It’s a lot,” I said, giving voice to fears that I had tamped down with a lot of effort.
“I don’t understand.” I could hear the frown in Flynn’s voice.
“I just don’t know if it’s right for me,” I replied almost belligerently. I could tell him that a sad, little kid, raised in the system didn’t have a chance for happy, shiny futures. That I had accepted that I would my days in Wellsburg, living with Dania, hanging out with Stu, Shane and Reggie. Getting wasted on the weekends and barely paying my bills.
It may not be the life I had hoped for, but it was the one I was given.
“You should do it. I liked college. You will too,” Flynn’s reassurance washed over me.
I startled when he took my hand in his. He twined his fingers through mine, just as I had done a few minutes before. My head shot up and I met his eyes. His intensity made me shiver.
His fingers trembled in mine but he didn’t pull away. Our hands were joined together, his arm stretched out in front of him. He didn’t move any closer. We did nothing to close the distance between us but his palm pressed against mine was more intimate than if he had been holding me.
“You should do what makes you happy. You are smart. You are beautiful. You can do anything. You don’t belong here. You belong out there,” he said. I was struck speechless. I never expected something so poignant from Flynn. He surprised me.
He pushed me just when I needed it. Despite his social awkwardness, he had given me the words that I needed.
His hand clung to mine and I never wanted him to let go.
“I’ve got a meeting to get to. Will you walk with me?” I whispered, scared that if I spoke any louder I’d lose my nerve.
Flynn chewed on his bottom lip and looked at me. He never once met my eyes but he stared at me intently all the same.
“I like making you smile. It makes me smile,” he said, his lips stretching into a beautiful grin.
I hesitantly reached out and took his hand, the same way I had done when we were teenagers. I linked our fingers together, pressing my palm against his.
The first time I had done this many years ago, he had pulled away. It had taken a while until he was comfortable enough for me to touch him. And I wasn’t sure we were at that stage now. So much time had passed since I had last touched him.
But seeing him happy, knowing how in tuned he was to me, I couldn’t help myself.
I shied from physical affection as much as Flynn did. That was one of the many reasons I had felt so connected to him in the early days of our friendship. Neither one of us could handle the implications of touch. Both of us were so isolated.
But then we had somehow found each other.
And here we were again. We were still those same disconnected people that we had been years ago, only now a little older and a little more damaged.
Once again I found myself reaching out to the only person I had ever felt safe with.
Flynn Hendrick.
The freak with Asperger’s. The boy whose life I had made miserable before I had made him happy. And then I had destroyed him before I could enjoy the changes he exacted in my life.
Or maybe I hadn’t destroyed him.
Maybe I had only succeeded in destroying myself.
Because Flynn didn’t seem ruined.
He seemed healthier than he had ever been before. His confidence, while still beleaguered, had grown by leaps and bounds.
This wasn’t a man who had been beaten down by circumstances. This was someone who embraced life the only way he could. The only way he allowed himself.
I pressed my hand into his and gave him a slight squeeze. I felt him stiffen and then pull away. His fingers escaping, recoiling.
Flynn clasped his hands together in front of him and started that incessant rubbing that I recognized all too well.
I curled my fingers into my palm and clenched them tightly. I felt his rejection acutely. I knew it wasn’t his fault. I knew his physical limitations. I felt them as well. But I had hoped…
That was the problem. I had hoped.
It would be so easy for me to get angry. To reject Flynn as surely as he had just rejected me. To call him names. To turn my back and walk away.
But I didn’t.
I dug my nails into my palm and gave Flynn a smile like he hadn’t just hurt me.
He had no idea what he had done.
“Where are you going now? Can I walk with you?” Flynn asked me. He was still rubbing his hands and I wished he’d stop. His anxiety was catching.
“I have a meeting with my advisor to talk about classes for next semester. I’m not sure I’m going to go though,” I said, telling him the thing I hadn’t quite admitted to myself yet.
Flynn stopped rubbing his hands and tucked them into the pocket of his pants. “Why wouldn’t you go? You have to pick out classes. That’s important,” he said, as if it were that easy.
“Did you go to college, Flynn?”
Flynn nodded. “Yes, I went to Guildford College. I graduated last year before Mom died. I majored in fine arts.” I wasn’t surprised. Flynn was smart. He was talented. Even at fifteen I had known he was destined for greater things than Wellsburg, West Virginia.
“I never went to school,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. The pair of us must look ridiculous, standing there, neither looking at the other.
“You’re at school now,” Flynn said, sounding confused.
My shoulders rose and fell in an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know if I can keep it up. It’s a lot,” I said, giving voice to fears that I had tamped down with a lot of effort.
“I don’t understand.” I could hear the frown in Flynn’s voice.
“I just don’t know if it’s right for me,” I replied almost belligerently. I could tell him that a sad, little kid, raised in the system didn’t have a chance for happy, shiny futures. That I had accepted that I would my days in Wellsburg, living with Dania, hanging out with Stu, Shane and Reggie. Getting wasted on the weekends and barely paying my bills.
It may not be the life I had hoped for, but it was the one I was given.
“You should do it. I liked college. You will too,” Flynn’s reassurance washed over me.
I startled when he took my hand in his. He twined his fingers through mine, just as I had done a few minutes before. My head shot up and I met his eyes. His intensity made me shiver.
His fingers trembled in mine but he didn’t pull away. Our hands were joined together, his arm stretched out in front of him. He didn’t move any closer. We did nothing to close the distance between us but his palm pressed against mine was more intimate than if he had been holding me.
“You should do what makes you happy. You are smart. You are beautiful. You can do anything. You don’t belong here. You belong out there,” he said. I was struck speechless. I never expected something so poignant from Flynn. He surprised me.
He pushed me just when I needed it. Despite his social awkwardness, he had given me the words that I needed.
His hand clung to mine and I never wanted him to let go.
“I’ve got a meeting to get to. Will you walk with me?” I whispered, scared that if I spoke any louder I’d lose my nerve.
