The boy and his ribbon

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

REN

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2016-2017

FOR TWO MONTHS, our packed backpacks rested by the door ready to grab at a moment’s notice. I’d never opened a bank account as I had no identification to appease the paper pushers, and the cash I’d diligently saved was hidden in a small box under the rickety floorboard beneath the couch—ready to be snatched and taken.

I’d wanted to run the day we got home from the principal, but Della had picked a fight and we’d argued well into the night. Her reasons for staying were she didn’t want to move schools when she was so close to finishing, that she’d fixed it so the rumour would fade and the teachers would chalk it up to stupid teenage drama, and that I was too flighty.

I’d roared at that one.

Flighty?

How about fucking wary that even though Della was more adult than kid these days, she could still be taken away from me. Excuse me for not caring about anything other than her. Ru

But even in the wake of my temper, she’d won in the end—just like she always did.

I bowed to her pleas to stay, just for a little while, and gamble with time to see who was right. If Tom kept his mouth shut, we would be free to stay. But if he didn’t, it might be too late to run next time.

I hated it.

I hated that I didn’t just grab her and leave rather than listen to her debate and bow to her conclusions. But something else made me agree and not just her excellent arguing skills.

I agreed because of the rumour that’d called me in to the principal in the first place. The rumour that Della was in love with me.

My heart had stopped and hadn’t beaten correctly since. It was just a silly rumour, but I agreed with Ms. Sapture: truth lived in rumour, and if such a thing was said…

Could it be true?

Who had started it?

And how could they screw up my mind by making me fear that my love for Della wasn’t pure, after all. That it was tainted and no longer black and white.

I withdrew even more from her.

I stopped using her nickname.

Whatever physical contact still existed between us, ceased all together.

She obeyed me and stripped the blue from her hair but that was about all she obeyed me in.

We became strangers living in the same apartment, and I couldn’t stop it because every time I looked at her…I wondered.

I wondered what she felt for me.

I wondered what she kept hidden.

I wondered about so many things I shouldn’t wonder about.

For eight long weeks, I ignored her when she was home, yet made her text me after each class. Just a quick I’m fine to let me know she hadn’t been taken by CPS. It was the only way I could focus on my work and not get trampled by the  cows. And ignoring her at home was the only way I could be civil and not tear into her, demanding answers to the sick questions inside my head.

Was she in love with me?

And if she was…where the fuck did that leave us?

The incident should’ve ended up with us homeless and ru

All of it, from the threat of Social Services to the rumour of Della’s affection for me, was never mentioned again.

It made me nervous.

It made a ticking clock hover over my head, speeding up time and somehow slowing it down.

Christmas and New Year’s came and went.

We didn’t celebrate it.

Spring arrived, and as snow left the world a more habitable place, Della withdrew from me as I’d withdrawn from her, causing an even worse strain between us.

God, I missed her, but I had no idea how to fix something I didn’t understand.

Then, two weeks before our joint birthday, I broke my wrist.

The pain of being kicked by a cow while trying to hook it up the milking machine was a price I’d happily pay all over again because it gave Della back to me. If only for a little while.

She swooped toward me after I’d driven home one-handed, turned off my bike, then stomped up the stairs and into our tiny apartment.

Her eyes widened with worry, taking in my swollen ugly wrist, instantly losing her wariness around me and fussing as kindly and as sweetly as she had with the splinter.

She bustled around, fear and affection thick in her voice as she charged to the mostly-empty freezer to find something cold for the swelling.

With jerky speed, she flew back to me, skidding to a stop and falling to her knees before me. Her focus entirely on making me better and no other mess from before.

Having her close.

Having her care.

Fuck.

I couldn’t help myself.

I reached out to cup her cheek as she rested a bag of frozen peas on my skin, so grateful to have my Della back.

The moment I touched her, she flinched and melted at the same time.

The nastiness of pushing each other away vanished, and with a bone-deep sigh, she rested her cheek in my palm.

It was all I could do to stay touching her i

The sensation of holding her was one of coming home after being lost for so long, and I ached.

I ached with a need so hungry, so raw, I couldn’t think.

All I wanted to do was slip off the dining chair and pull her against me. Words and apologies filled my mouth with bitter regret. Why had I been so cruel to her? How had I forgotten how much I cared for this girl?

We stayed like that for far too long, me bent over her with my hand on her cheek and her curled on the floor with a heart-stealing wish in her eyes.

My lips tingled. My fingers fluttered. And Della arched up on her knees.

My attention fell to her mouth.

Her blonde hair—no longer blue or fantastical—hung over her shoulder, tickling my knuckles, and I wanted something I’d never wanted before.

I wanted things to be different. I wanted things to be i

She licked her lips, breaking the spell, inviting me to do something I desperately wanted. I needed to kiss her. But I needed it to be right. I’d had enough wrongness between us to risk losing her again.

I sat taller in my chair to kiss her forehead. To kiss her like I was allowed.

The moment my mouth touched her skin, she inhaled sharply, swallowing a quick moan. She bowed into me, pressing herself against my legs.

My thighs bunched as my body hardened against my will, and lust that I had no right to feel became excruciating.

With clenched teeth, I dropped my touch, removed my kiss, and tore my gaze away.

Standing with a wobble born from everything she made me feel, I stepped around her still hunched on the kitchen floor. Breathing for the first time since I’d kissed her, I headed to the dresser where my clothes waited, grabbed a cleaner pair of jeans and t-shirt, then walked down the corridor to change in the bathroom away from her heated eyes.

It took me twice as long, awkward and painful with only one working hand.

If things were simple between us, I would’ve asked for Della’s help. I would’ve chuckled as she wrangled me from my t-shirt and teased her as she unzipped my jeans.