Tied

“That’s not true. You can be with people just fine. You’re just a little overwhelmed.”

He didn’t say goodbye. He just waved me away like an annoying bug. “He bought me this amazing blanket because he had one at his house that I loved. He actually went to a store and bought it for me, and I can’t believe he did that, just for me.”

Her eyebrows rise. “And that’s amazing why?”

His hand shook when he handed me the bag with the blankets. It was a big step for him…and for us.

“Because he doesn’t go out in public. Because of his scars. So for him, it’s a big deal. We went for a walk in the woods, to sit by the river and listen to music and talk. And somehow we got to talking about his father, about how they had a fight the night he died, and he thinks it’s his fault.”

“Is it?”

“No!” I shout. “How could you ask such a thing?”

“Well he thinks it, why can’t I?”

“He had a heart attack. I think it was just a horrible coincidence. Can a fight actually kill someone?”

“Only if one of the people actually does something to kill the other, Holly. Like stab them, shoot them, slam their head on something. Strangle them.”

That last comment was unnecessary, and I’m starting to question why I’m even talking to her, because she’s not making me feel any better. Maybe I should have just put in a call to my therapist instead of having this conversation with my roommate.

“I tried to tell him that he’s a good guy. He saved me and Poppy, right? And then he said something like maybe he’s not good and he just likes to collect messed up stuff.”

Feather slams her hand down on the couch. “Oh hell no. Who the hell does he think he is? He’s the messed-up fucked-up one, riding around with masks on and shit!”

“Can you please stop?” I yell back, an ache growing in my stomach. “You don’t know him. He’s… special. He’s thoughtful and caring. He’s just had a rough time.”

“So have you! And so have I! I’m trying to believe he’s a nice guy, but I don’t like him hurting your feelings.”

“He didn’t do it on purpose. Anyway, suddenly he just kissed me. Like a movie kiss, with his whole mouth and his hand on the back of my neck, and he licked my lips, and I couldn’t stop shivering. I felt like he was going to swallow me, and I had no idea what to do with my own mouth or my hands and I just…froze.” I chew my lip nervously. “It was horrible.”

My friend stares at me, unblinking, with a smile on her face that seems very misplaced at the moment.

“Feather? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Steve kisses me that way,” she says dreamily.”Those are the best kisses. Trust me. That’s some passion right there.”

It wasn’t horrible at all. I was horrible. I look down at my hands, embarrassed at what I have to tell her. “I’ve never been kissed before,” I admit.

She sucks in a breath. “Oh, Holly…I had no idea. The guy who kidnapped you never…”

I shake my head. “No! Not ever. Why would he? And I would never want him to. That’s disgusting.”

“You’re right,” she agrees quickly. “Ty probably didn’t know either, though. He might have just assumed…”

Acid rises to the back of my throat. Why would anyone assume that monster would kiss me? Kissing is for dating and loving. “I don’t want to think or talk about that.”

“We don’t have to. But I think Tyler didn’t realize it was your first kiss. And seriously a kiss like he laid on you would be scary for anyone’s first kiss. Most first kisses are by thirteen-year-old boys who just peck at your lips and try to grope your tits.”

If things had been different, I should have had my first kiss six years ago. And if I had, I wouldn’t have been terrified when the man I’m falling in love with finally kissed me.

I’ve missed everything I should have experienced growing up—every one of my firsts, every awkward and exciting moment that should have happened, shouldn’t be happening now. The bad man didn’t just take me—he took all the little parts of my life that were supposed to help me grow into the me I’m supposed to be today.

Feather’s eyes are on me expectantly, waiting for me to react.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I say.

“It’s not. Tell me what happened after he kissed you?”

I escaped to my safe place, back to the pages of my storybooks, away from everything scary. I chew on my tattered fingernail. “I just…froze. I think I did the play dead thing. Like I used to.”

She reaches across the couch and touches my arm. “Holly, it’s all right. It was new and scary. You weren’t ready. Remember in therapy we talked about how we should make our partners aware? Steve and I talked about what happened to me for hours and hours before anything happened between us. We took things really slow. Maybe you guys should have talked about this beforehand. I didn’t realize you were more than friends.”

“Neither did I. Not until today.” Is that true? Lately, I’ve been wishing to be more than friends, and I’ve daydreamed about him holding my hand, hugging me with his beautiful arms, and—yes—even kissing me, but I had no idea kissing would feel so…intense and consuming. How was I to know it would leave me breathless and powerless—feelings I had only ever associated with pain and fear? I didn’t know those feelings could also be so deliciously good. Feather’s right, I wasn’t ready, and he didn’t know, and I ruined our first kiss.

Possibly our last kiss.

“I think I need to go call him,” I say. “We didn’t exactly end the day on a good note.”

“Are you sure you want to talk to him? Maybe you need to step away for a while, give yourself more time before you get involved with him.”

“I already am involved.” I stand and grab my backpack and my blanket. “Thank you for talking with me. I feel better now.”

“I’m here if you need to talk more.”

Once in my room, I close the door softly behind me, change into sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, and call Ty’s cell phone from mine. It rings four times and goes to his voice mail.

That’s odd. He always answers when I call him, unless he’s on the bike. I send him a text message:

Holly: Hi…I tried to call you

Tyler: I didn’t answer. I’m having trouble talking.

Holly: Why?

Tyler: Just stress shit. Don’t worry about it.

No little smiley faces accompany his words, a clear sign that he’s angry.

Holly: Can we talk on here for a few minutes?

Tyler: Ok

Holly: I’m sorry. About earlier.

Tyler: Don’t be. It’s forgotten.

My chest constricts.

Holly: Don’t say that

Tyler: You’re not the first girl to reject me. Won’t be the last, either.

I stare at the small screen with tears in my eyes. This is not my prince talking.

Holly: That’s not it at all. I was just scared. I couldn’t breathe.

Tyler: It’s all good. Let’s just forget it.

How can I possibly forget it? And how can he?

Tyler: Snuggle in your magic blanket and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be better. Going to bed now. Talk to you in a few days.

I tossed and turned all night, finally falling asleep sometime after 2:00 a.m., only to wake up with a jolt after dreaming I was wandering through the woods, alone and naked. I screamed for help, but no one came. I walked in circles, seeing the same trees and rocks over and over and over again, never finding my way out. All the while, a black bird followed me overhead, his large wings whooshing above me ominously.

I wake with tears on my cheeks and a pounding headache, and it takes me several minutes to drag my mind out of the dream and convince myself I am safe.

The scent of Ty’s cologne lingers on the blanket, and I snuggle further under it, burrowing my face in it. I let the memory of his kiss surface. I let myself relive how it made me feel. I sift through the negative feelings, push them to the side, and focus on the good that’s left, like I was taught.

The feel of his lips on mine was exhilarating.

His hand in my hair, cradling my head, made me feel wanted.

The fiery passion I saw in his eyes made me feel beautiful.

His hard body leaning into mine, his leg over mine, made me feel protected.

The way he wiped my tears away made me feel cared for.

All of it together made me jittery, lightheaded, and nervous, but I wanted more.

But, oh, God. How had I made him feel while he was giving me all these wonderful new feelings? Unwanted and rejected.

How do I undo that?

I sit up, rubbing my throbbing forehead and wondering if Feather will drive me to see my grandmother today, since Grandma has a knack for cheering me up. I kick off my blankets and check my cell phone, hoping for a text from Ty, but there aren’t any. I hold the phone, debating whether I should send him a text, but I have no idea what to even say. I put the phone back down on my nighttable, and that’s when I notice it.

My heartbeat speeds up, and I rush over to my window, where a beautiful dreamcatcher is taped to the outside of the glass with a small envelope taped next to it. When does he do this stuff?