Instead of You(49)

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes darting back and forth between Hayes and me. “I think,” she started, but stopped, looking at my mom. “I think I want to get some fresh air. Will you go for a walk with me?”

Everyone was silent. Besides doctor’s appointments for sleeping pills, Mrs. Wallace hadn’t left the house since the funeral. For her to ask to leave, to offer to go for a walk, was surprising. I was floating somewhere between being happy for the milestone and relieved she was leaving and giving my mind and body a chance to deal with the effect of her words.

Hayes and I both sat in silence while our mothers pulled on their jackets, tied their shoes, and left the house.

I had no words, so I was glad when Hayes spoke first.

“She doesn’t understand what she’s saying.” His voice was still low and raspy, like his throat was doing everything it could to hold back his screams. It was the kind of control that you knew was just seconds away from being lost, like he could snap at any moment. “She’s drowning, Kenz. In grief. She can’t understand the effect her words are having. You can’t take what she says to heart.”

I sat in my chair, mouth tightly shut, hands clasped tightly around each other in my lap, jaw tense, with emotion simply squeezing me to the point of rupture. I was trying to hold it all in, trying to let the wave of anger and sadness pass over me, to feel it crest and wane, but it just kept building until I couldn’t take it any longer.

My elbows came to the table, my face went into my hands, and I erupted in cries. It was not even two seconds before Hayes had his arms around me, holding me, his hand running soft circles on my back. And I simply cried. The very last thing I needed in that moment was for Mrs. Wallace to walk in on her other son touching me in a way that indicated anything more than friendship.

I stood up quickly, my chair scraping against the linoleum floor, and I ran to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, locked it, and didn’t even bother with the light. I didn’t particularly want to look at myself in that moment anyhow.

I was the worst kind of person.

Again, not two seconds after I’d made it into the bathroom, Hayes was on the other side of the door, pounding on it.

“Kenzie, don’t do this. Don’t push me away. We have to stick together.” His words were punctuated by thumping on the door. I could picture him on the other side, breathing hard, waiting for me to open the door, to open myself up to him again.

It was so easy to forget that what we were doing was wrong. So easy. I let the way I felt around him, the way every part of me cried out for him, overshadow the fact that there’s no way for our relationship to be right.

He was my boyfriend’s brother. The brother of my boyfriend who died thinking I loved him, thinking that I would spend the rest of my life with him. And he was my History teacher. I couldn’t think of one single other person who I could choose to start a relationship with that could cause as much destruction as Hayes and I could if anyone found out about us.

“You don’t have to mourn him the way other people think you should, Kenz. You don’t have to stay home, you don’t have to be single forever, you don’t have to act any certain way. My mom wants you to be sad without him forever, because that’s how she thinks she’s going to feel. Sad. Forever. But that’s not true. And it’s not how you have to feel either.”

I turned my back to the mirror I couldn’t see, rested my rear against the counter, and ran my fingertips under my eyes, wiping away the wetness.

“Please, baby, let me in.” Those words were whispered, and I thought I heard fear in them as well. I reached out and turned the lock. He must have heard it because the door slowly opened, light streaking into the bathroom. He opened it just far enough to get his body through, and then he closed it. When I heard the lock turn again, my breath caught in my lungs.

It was dark in the bathroom but I could still see him move to stand right in front of me, see his shadowed form come to a stop. His hand reached out and gripped my hip, my eyes closing at his touch even though I could see barely anything. I’d never experienced such conflicting emotions before. On one hand, I desperately wanted him to touch me, to soothe the ache inside of me, force me to focus on what his touch made me feel as opposed to the pain currently ripping through me. On the other hand, I knew, on some level, he shouldn’t have been touching me at all. I should push him away. I should tell him we couldn’t do whatever it was we were doing anymore.

But I simply wasn’t strong enough.

When I didn’t push away his first touch, he reached out with his other hand, both hands now on my waist. Slowly they moved toward my back, pulling me into him.

And I went.

Because I was weak.

We’d all lost so much, and losing Hayes would have been too much to bear.

When I was pressed against him, my hands wound around his waist, his hands moving into my hair, the tears didn’t stop and neither did the thoughts. So I spoke them. I let them have a voice.

“Our being together is going to hurt everyone around us, Hayes. If they ever found out, if your mom ever knew, it would break her. It’s wrong, Hayes. We’re wrong.”

“I know,” he whispered after a long pause. “But nothing has ever felt so right.”

I couldn’t argue with him.

His hands moved from my hair, down to the sides of my neck, and he leaned away from me. I opened my eyes and all I could see was the outline of his face, feel the warmth of his hands on my throat, the gentle stroking of his thumbs over my cheeks, still wet from tears. When his lips feathered over mine I didn’t try to pull away. I knew it was wrong, but that wasn’t reason enough to stop him. The way he kissed me, as if I could fall apart at any moment, as if he didn’t know whether his kiss would shatter me or hold me together, it made me love him that much more.