Impulsive
Human beings are impulsive. For the most part, we are able to control our actions. We are taught early and often to keep our impulses at bay. We have a built-in filter, a little voice in our head that warns us when we are about to do something stupid. The key is to listen.
BREEZE
I SPENT THE morning of my sixteenth birthday with Viv at the Registries office, getting my permit. After months of driving, I could finally do it legally, which felt different.
It was hard to believe I had lived with Shame for nearly three years. It went by too fast. I wished I could slow time, because I knew the next two years would go by even faster, and then I would have to live without him.
I plopped down on my bed and opened my geology textbook right as Shame entered my room.
“Come downstairs with me,” he said in an enthusiastic voice all wrong for him. “I have a surprise for you and I want to show you before everyone gets here.”
I dreaded and loved we were having a party for my sixteenth birthday. Every girl dreamed of a sweet sixteen, but the two people I wanted to be there to celebrate with me had all but abandoned me. I missed my dad and my best friend. Recently I had begun praying for both of them. It was Mrs. Higgins suggestion, but I figured they needed it. It had worked for me. I used to pray for rescue from my horrible childhood. Then God sent Shame, or someone did.
“Come on,” he said again, practically jumping up and down.
“All right, jeesh.”
He grabbed my hand and led me to the garage. His skin was so warm, charged with the ever-present attraction we shared. He seemed too excited about my surprise to notice, which delighted me because he didn’t pull away.
“Close your eyes,” he said, stopping at the side entrance of the garage.
I squeezed my eyes shut. The door squealed as it opened, sharp and grating. I had been meaning to hit it with some WD-40. The sound made my spine hurt. I shook as Shame led me through the door.
“Open.”
I popped my eyes open and my mouth followed. A brand new, and of course, green, car sat in the middle of the garage adorned with an enormous white bow.
He bought me a freaking car.
I knew arguing with him how I couldn’t take it was futile. If I learned anything in my three years with Shame, it was if he gave you something, you accepted.
“Happy birthday, Breeze.”
“A Subaru?” I chuckled as I walked to my new car.
“You like it?” he asked, both nervous and excited.
“I love it, but I was kinda hoping to get the Camaro,” I joked.
He appeared mildly amused. “It’s a good car.”
I stared at him sideways. “You mean it’s a safe car.”
“You need safe, especially in the winter, but Kegger souped it up a little.” He flashed a grin. “It’s fast.”
“It’s perfect.”
“No racing though, without me at least.”
“Thank you.”
“You earned it. Keep working hard and before you know it you’ll be out of here.”
I swallowed painfully at his reminding me he wanted to get rid of me. I ignored my thoughts and said, “It sucks I have to wait six months to drive it by myself.”
“I’ll let you drive it to school and back.”
“Are you suggesting I break the law, again?”
“You’re a Bastard.” Shame chuckled. “It kind of goes with the territory.”
“Thank you. You’ve been so good to me.”
“That’s because I care about you, Dimples.”
Maybe it was the way he said it, or how he looked at me with frenzied passion that made me lean in close to him, until our lips nearly touched. Whatever the reason, the usual stress I saw in his eyes when I was near him was nowhere to be found as I whispered, “I care about you, too.”
He let out a strangled sigh as the sides of his fingers grazed my cheek. “You have the most beautiful smile.”
I lifted up onto my toes until I felt his lips. “I’m going to kiss you,” I whispered against his mouth and then gave him a moment to protest, but he held my gaze waiting. His beard tickled my skin before his lips parted, welcoming me to kiss him. As my tongue slid into his mouth, I felt him tense. Afraid he would run, I gripped the sides of his face and kissed him harder with more hunger than I had ever kissed Lance. His arms never left his sides and when he let out a painful and haunting groan, I ended the kiss.
“I’m sorry,” I uttered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“We can’t,” he whispered. “We just can’t.”
His stare was full of conflict. I crossed the line he had drawn clearly, and he struggled with anger and satisfaction.
“I know. I got caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again,” I reassured him.
I knew I was in love with Shame. I also knew even if he felt the same for me, he would never knowingly reciprocate my feelings. Even if I had the body and mind of an adult, I was still a kid, a charity case he used to work out the issues he had with his father. He would never love me and I needed to let him go. I had my entire life ahead of me. Not to mention I had a wonderful and legal relationship with Lance. I acted impulsively and the feeling of disappointment crippled me.
I felt tears falling from my eyes as I turned toward the side door of the garage to leave. Through the glass, I saw Lance. I didn’t question how much he saw, because the hurt showed all over his face. I ran through the door and chased him up the street. No matter how loudly I yelled, Lance didn’t stop. I followed him all the way to his grandma’s house before he spun around and acknowledged me.
“How could you do this?” he yelled.
“I’m sorry. It didn’t mean anything.”
My hands were shaking because this was so hard; knowing this was it. My curtain had lowered and Lance saw the truth, how I would never fully give myself to him, and how he would always be second in my heart.
“Tell me the truth for once, Breeze. Are you in love with him?”
My head fell because I was afraid to answer. I couldn’t watch his expression crumple again. I didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know.”
“Do you love me?” he asked, his voice broken and laced with sadness.
I lifted my head, but I still couldn’t look Lance in the eyes. “I don’t know.”
“What do you know?” His tone surged with anger.
The rise in his voice made me want to break down and cry. I knew I didn’t want to love anyone. When I loved people they abandoned me. I knew I didn’t want to hurt Lance. And I knew Shame would never love me. That hurt like hell.
“I’m confused.”
“I’m not,” Lance whispered, slipping his hand under the collar of my shirt. He pulled out the necklace Shame gave me, the one I proudly wore all the time. I swallowed, my eyes filling with tears. “You wear this necklace every day. I never said anything, but every time I see it, I’m reminded you’ll never truly love me.”
“That’s not true. It’s complicated. It’s not you.” I paused and took a breath. This was too hard. I hated being responsible for the agony on his face. “I’m afraid to love anyone.”
“Except him,” Lance sighed. “Because I think you can easily love Shame. I’m in love with you, but I can’t do this. I’m done competing with him. This is over.”
Lance was right—I easily loved Shame.
“Lance.” I called out to him only once because a part of me knew letting him go was the right thing to do. He deserved a girl who would give him all of her love.
Every once in a while, we lose the ability to hear the quiet voice of warning. We carelessly act without forethought. We do something so impulsive it feels like we will never recover. We will. And we will again act on impulse.