Reclaiming the Sand(88)

“Mom, go get Marty!” I yelled but she kept saying she couldn’t.

The firemen came and started spraying stuff at my house. I yelled at them to get my dog. I was getting really angry that no one was listening to me.

“Where’s my dog?” I screamed and Mom tried to hug me again. I pushed her and she fell.

One of the firemen tried to pull me back and I tried to hit him.

“You need to calm down, young man. And don’t hit your mother,” he said. He was scary with his helmet on.

“He has Asperger’s. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing,” my mom said to the firefighter. He looked at me. I didn’t want him to look at me.

I knew what I was doing. I was mad. I wanted to hit them for not getting my dog.

Mom was crying, telling me it would be okay.

I just wanted my dog.

Someone told Mom that it looked like the fire had been set on purpose. Mom started crying harder.

No one ever got my dog.

Mom said he had gone to heaven with my dad. That they’d play together now.

I didn’t want my dad to have Marty in heaven! I wanted him here!

I yelled and got angry but I didn’t hit her. I didn’t want the fireman to yell at me again.

Marty was dead.

My house had been burned down.

I cried all night until Mom took me to a hotel.





-Ellie-



We weren’t touching anymore. But I could still feel the heat of Flynn’s skin on mine. I was staring at the ceiling while Flynn slept beside me. We had kept the door to the balcony open a crack and I could still hear the thundering waves. A chilly fall breeze filtered into the room, making me cold.

I shivered and pulled the blanket up around my shoulders. Murphy’s light snores echoed in tune with Flynn’s heavy breathing.

My mind and heart were reeling and I couldn’t sleep. Making love to Flynn had been incredible. Afterwards Flynn didn’t know what to do. The aftermath was a lot more awkward than the actual act had been. He had been shy and uncomfortable, not meeting my eyes.

“Did you like it?” he asked, chewing on his bottom lip. I had pulled the sheet up to cover my naked breasts and Flynn fidgeted, his arm still wrapped around me but his fingers were flexing in and out as though he wanted to pull away.

“Of course I did. Did you?” I asked him, feeling suddenly insecure. Oh god, what if it sucked? What if I sucked? And I knew, without a doubt, that Flynn would tell me. If he announced that I was a lousy lay, I think I’d lose it.

Flynn had peeked up at me through the strands of dark hair that had fallen in his face. “I want to do it again,” he said softly, smiling. The sickening sense of dread evaporated in an instant and I laughed. A happy and contented sound.

We hadn’t had sex again but there was lots more kissing and touching. Flynn was particularly fond of my stomach and of course my breasts. He spent a lot of time and attention to those areas. And I for one wasn’t complaining.

“Don’t do this with anyone else. Ever,” he said as he kissed the mole on my hipbone. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down at the top of his head. His breath was warm on my skin and I felt the wet slide of his tongue.

“What do you mean?” I asked huskily, already losing myself to him again.

Flynn stopped and looked up at me, his green eyes blazing into mine. “I want you to only do that with me. Okay?” he posed it as a question but it was spoken as a command.

“You don’t want me with anyone else?” I asked, grinning.

Flynn shook his head vehemently. “No! People that love each other don’t do that with anyone else.”

I almost choked.

Flynn Hendrick had just told me that he loved me.

Flynn loved me!

“Then will you come with me if I go away to school?” I asked gently, wanting to smack myself for bringing up such a contentious subject when we were both feeling languid and peaceful.

But Flynn didn’t get upset this time. He came back up the bed to rest his head on the pillow by my side. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. It makes me mad. You get sad. It doesn’t feel good. I want to feel good with you. Not angry.” He frowned at me, as if to scold me for my inconsideration.

His refusal to answer me bugged me but I tried to ignore it. We had resumed our touching and kissing and loving each other. And I pushed aside the nagging voice in my head that warned this would all disappear.

Afterwards Flynn had gotten dressed again and settled beneath the sheets, promptly falling asleep. Leaving me to my racing thoughts and pounding heart.

Flynn loved me.

That simple yet profound statement bounced around in my overly crowded head.

The realization that my feelings were reciprocated filled me with such a bright, shiny happiness that it blinded me.

But there was a darkness that hovered at the edges of my joy and the more I tried to pretend it wasn’t there, the larger it grew. Until it had eclipsed the sun of Flynn’s love.

Because there it was. My old friend…guilt and shame.

Flynn loved me. But would he still love me if I told him the truth? Would he still want to touch me once I was honest with him about what I had done all those years ago?

I felt sick and my head ached.

I had to tell him.

I couldn’t let another day pass without him knowing.