“He came for his bowling shoes. No big deal,” I said evasively.
“I can tell it’s not. To you.” He watched me, his green eyes dark. “I can’t imagine loving you so much and knowing you didn’t love me back.”
The guilt I had felt only minute earlier overwhelmed me.
“I’m glad,” Yoss went on.
“You’re glad about what?” I asked.
“That you never gave your heart to anyone else.”
Never.
Yoss cleared his throat and looked away, leaving me shaken. “I’m pretty tired, if it’s okay, I think I’m going to turn in.”
That was it. He dropped that bomb and then left me with the aftermath. He was so confusing.
“Oh, yeah, that’s fine. Of course. There are clean towels in the bathroom if you want a shower. Though I’m pretty sure the only shampoo I have smells like berries. Nothing manly I’m afraid.” I was blathering again.
Yoss shrugged. “Berries are fine. Thanks. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay,” I said softly as he walked back down the hall towards the guest room. He hesitated before going inside, his hand on the doorknob before going inside.
I listened to the sound of the click as he closed the door between us.
I barely slept that night.
Yoss’s familiar screams kept me from dreaming. His nightmares still plagued him. And I still could only listen helplessly while his demons devoured him one memory at a time.
I stood outside his door, my palm pressed against the wood, wishing I could go inside and hold him the way I used to. But I knew I couldn’t. Not yet.
One day I hoped he wouldn’t lock the door between us.
But time was running out and I was afraid that no matter how tightly I held on, it wasn’t enough. That he would always slip through my fingers.
Maybe after all these years I was still just that girl standing in the rain. Waiting for a boy who would never come.
He would always run from what I wanted so desperately to give him. I could scream my love, but he wouldn’t hear me.
Hopeless, my cries tangled with his in that dark, lonely night.
Fifteen years ago
“Check it out, Yoss! It’s the Kimber doll from Jem and the Holograms! I had one just like this!” I ran my finger over the smooth face of the toy.
My mother never had the money, or the inclination, to buy me new toys. Most of my favorite things as a child were leftovers from someone else. My Jem and the Holograms dolls had been given to me by some distant relative who had lost interest in them.
But to me, they were the most amazing things in the world.
The table was piled high with someone else’s junk. Broken model airplanes. Alvin and the Chipmunk glasses. It all looked like treasure to me.
On a whim, Yoss had decided we should spend the morning at a local flea market housed out of an old factory at the edge of town. The days were shorter, the air was colder and it was becoming hard to stay warm at The Pit.
More and more people seemed to be crowding within its walls. I felt claustrophobic. And afraid of the staring eyes and noisy whispers that surrounded me every morning when I woke up and every night as I fell asleep.
Last night he had left me for longer than he had ever done before. Hours went by and I couldn’t fall asleep. A man was shouting at a woman who sobbed loudly only a few feet away. I tried not to listen to their argument, but when he began to throw things, I pulled the smelly blanket over my head, terrified.
Last night wasn’t the first time I thought about leaving before Yoss had a chance to return. I had entertained the idea briefly over the last six months. It flitted in and out of my head before taking root. Because I’d never be able to leave Yoss. He was my anchor.
