Holding On To Heaven by Melyssa Winchester
*****
When he walked me back to the dorm the night before, he suggested doing something like this and I laughed it off. I’d become so accustomed to people shying away from me that spending time with people was a rarity. Let alone time alone with a guy. That was completely unheard of.
Yet here I am, sitting in the middle of the quad, a red and blue checkered blanket spread out underneath me, Ryan across from me, the only thing separating us the picnic basket he insisted on bringing to make the experience more normal.
Being here with him now, it’s just as comfortable as it had been yesterday, almost like it’s where I belong. Knowing that I’m no longer alone with my ability made things easier somehow. I didn't have to worry about how I might be perceived because if I did hear a voice, Ryan would too and he wouldn't judge me. In fact he told me flat out he would help me through it. It sure made it easier to be me. Though being here with a guy, one I found beyond the normal realm of attractive, made the ability to breathe consistently a struggle.
Well at least you know there's at least one thing about you that's normal.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, breaking through again. Something he seemed to do effortlessly.
“Not worth that much, trust me.”
“Somehow I doubt that. Try me.”
Do I dare tell him what I was thinking? Could I really open myself up that much and risk further exposure? I'd rather open up to people about my ability with the dead then admit I’m a hormonally challenged girl. That seemed far worse in comparison.
I decided to tell him, but water down the magnitude of it. “It's really nothing. I was just thinking that I've never really done anything like this before and, well, I like it.”
“Do you mean the picnic or being like this with a guy?”
“Both I guess.”
“Well, Serenity Richards, if it helps at all, you're the first girl I've done something like this with. I was afraid to do it with anyone before. Afraid they would see the freak side of me and run.”
There it is again. Every time I admit even the slightest bit of information about myself and the way my life was before now, he’s right there with his own sad story. We really are too much alike for our own good. Both living in secret, hiding away from the rest of the world. All because we were afraid they couldn't or wouldn't accept us as we are. It’s horrible, yet beautiful at the same time. We aren't alone anymore.
“Why did you want to do this anyway? It really doesn't seem like your thing.”
He laughs and my stomach as per its usual does somersaults at the sound.
“Did you just make a generalization based on my appearance?”
“Maybe,” I say, blushing. “I wasn't trying to, but that’s not even the most important thing anymore.”
“Then what pre tell is?” he asks with a smirk.
“It seems someone actually paid attention in class this morning. This is big. Like breaking news big.”
“I always pay attention in class,” he answers, rolling his eyes. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Yeah, that's right! You do pay attention. Usually it’s to Suzy Abramson though.”
“Is that jealousy I hear?”
“Eww! No. What you're hearing is me being repulsed just mentioning it.”
“Well let me tell you a little secret. You only think I'm staring at Suzy and in a way I suppose I am, but it’s not intentional.”
“Oh really, then what exactly is it that you're doing, McGregor?”
He goes silent and I swear I see red rising in his cheeks again. Blinking to make sure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me I study him. He really is blushing. What the hell does a guy like this have to blush about?
“Watching you, Richards. Happy now?”
Well shit.
I hadn't been expecting him to say something like that. Sure, I had been known to do the same thing in each of the classes we share, almost as if I’m drawn to him somehow, but I hadn't really thought a guy like him would ever do the same to me. I mean has he looked in a mirror lately? That is just crazy.
“You're such a liar.”
“In most cases, I'd agree with you, but not this time. I'm not lying about this. I’d like to be lying about it because then I wouldn't seem like such a weirdo, but I feel drawn to you. It makes focusing on much else difficult.”
Had I heard that right? Is he really experiencing the same thing I am? What are the chances?
“Okay enough. I don't know how to swim so I can't navigate through the sea of bullshit I'm hearing right now.”
“Ouch.” he said, holding a hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. “That hurt, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl.
There had been only one other person to call me that and I really didn't want to think about him now. It had been bad enough that he’d come to me the night before in some sort of connection attempt. The last thing I want to do is think about him while I’m here with Ryan. It seems wrong, unfair even.
I had done my best to overlook what happened the night before, but with Ryan's own words reminding me, it was hard not to go back and remember it in graphic detail. My analytical brain wanting nothing more than to sit here and dissect it the way I hadn't gotten to before.