Blindness(75)

“I’m fine, it’s okay. Just going to get a cab,” I say, not wanting him to see my red face, my anger, and how much I let Kyla get to me.

“Stop it, Charlie. I’ll take you home. It’s freezing out here, and you’re all wet…just get in the truck,” he says, his voice growing a little more frustrated.

“No!” I yell, picking up a step in my walk and turning around a corner. I hear his truck brake, and I hear his door slam shut behind him.

“Damn it, Charlie…get in the goddamned truck!” He’s standing at the rear of his truck when I turn around, his black button-down soaked through instantly, and his hair flat in his face. His jeans are suctioned to his legs from the heavy downpour. I can’t even imagine what I look like, and I can’t bear the thought of him getting close enough to see. So I start to run.

“Fuck this,” he says, and I hear his steps gaining ground on me. I’m not very fast to begin with, but in heels, I’m maybe the speed of a camel. Cody’s arm is around my midsection in seconds, and I try to free myself, reaching down for my shoes to pull them from my feet so I can push away from him. But he has a firm grasp, reaching around with his other arm and locking them both together.

“Damn it! What the f*ck is wrong with you?” he’s yelling, trying to hold my arms down and keep me in place. I reach up with my hand, shoes still in it, and I hit him in the face, and he backs away immediately. “Fuck! That really f*cking hurt! What the hell?!”

“I’m sorry. I…” I drop my shoes and cover my mouth. I start crying as soon as I look at him. He’s holding his hand over his eye and his shirt is pulled from his jeans, torn a little from where I pulled on it.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” he says, rubbing the side of his face a little more. “But do you want to tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

I can barely breathe, and I don’t know where to begin. I’ve made so many mistakes that I feel like I’ve buried myself in this life that I no longer want—but the thought of freeing myself, however tempting, feels much too dangerous.

“Charlie…talk to me!” Cody says, his arms pleading with me at his sides.

“Why are you with her?” I ask, almost too quickly. It’s the one question—the only question—that’s been on my mind since the day I found out Cody and Kyla were back together.

“I don’t want to talk about Kyla, Charlie; this is about you,” he starts, but I interrupt him.

“No. No it’s not, Cody! This is about Kyla! Why are you with her? How can you touch her like that? Kiss her like that? After what she did to you?” I’m crying again, but I keep my voice strong.

Cody rubs his hands through his hair, moving it from his eyes, but the water keeps dripping down his face. “Charlie, I don’t want to talk about Kyla…” he tries again.

“Why are you with her!” I yell again, this time pounding a fist on his chest. He takes a step back when I do, which only makes me do it again. “Why, Cody? Why are you with her? Why do you kiss her…in front of me? How could you?”

He grabs my wrists in both of his hands and holds me tightly. “Because I can’t have you!” His voice echoes in the alleyway behind us. “Damn it, Charlie! Because of you! Because I can’t stand seeing you with Trevor, and every time I do, it f*cking kills me! Because I needed a goddamned distraction, and she was there. Because my brother is finally talking to me, and he’s actually a decent guy, and he’s helping me save my dad’s shop. And you’re his! He won—he saw you first, and it f*cking kills me, Charlie!”

My lips are quivering, and all I want to do is dig my hands into Cody’s arms, run my cheek along the stubble of his chin, and kiss him.

“Is that what this is about? You want to hear everything that’s going on inside my head every time I’m near you? All the shit I can’t say—the shit that makes me bite my tongue every time I see you?” He’s almost out of breath, but he’s still holding my wrists, still staring right into me. His voice is hoarse from the cold, and from yelling at me through the traffic and the rain.

“I f*cking love you, Charlie,” he says, the words almost a cry. “And I know I’ve never been in love before, because I would have remembered what this felt like. I love you, and I think I have since the moment I saw you. And when I see you with Trevor it feels like a goddamned knife is digging into my back. I hate myself for not going to the Dean’s party that night. And this is my punishment. I get to love you, but I can’t f*cking have you,” Cody says, delivering more honesty than I could have hoped for, more than I was prepared for.

His eyes are red and watering, and his grip on my arms is loosening. I free my hand and reach up to dash his tears away, and he leans his face to the side so his lips graze my arm as it passes. I can feel him tremble—he’s fighting against himself, just like I have been.

“I love you, too,” I say, my voice soft and scared. He stops breathing when I speak, and we both stare at one another, motionless.

“You can’t love me, Charlie,” he says as new tears fill his eyes and his mouth forms a tight line. He’s fighting it, refusing to hear me.

“But I do,” I say, biting my lip. I’m not able to stop the soft smile that creeps in on my lips from saying the words. I feel a sense of freedom from uttering them out loud, from saying them—from confessing.