A song can tell you a lot about a person.
Still staring at him, I want to walk over and peek, but as I look from him to my parents, deciding what to do, I hear a strange sound. It sounds like a pop.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
A weird odor pours in around me, and then I hear screaming.
“Run!”
The place erupts into chaos. I look at where my parents are, but my mom is shaking her head, screaming at me to run.
Run? Where will I go? I move toward the bathroom, but there’s a loud explosion, and I can’t see anything. I can’t see anyone. The only person I see is that boy. He’s still standing by the jukebox, looking around.
He starts to where his dad was, and that’s when I see the man. A mean-looking man with a gun in his hands. It’s pointed at the boy. I dash toward him, pushing him out of the way, throwing my weight over his.
We both hit the ground with a thud.
The side of my body burns, but I don’t have time to worry about it. Instead, I’m looking down at the boy. He goes to speak, but I lift my head and place my fingers over his lips to silence him.
I think he said something about his dad, but now more men are shooting. It’s like a war. We need to move; I grab the older boy’s hand and use all my strength to pull him with me through the chaos. I don’t know where my parents are, but they would want me to hide, so that’s what I do. I lead us behind the jukebox to the small closet. Once inside, I close the door.
My heart pounds. There is barely any light. Only a small sliver that creeps in from the door that won’t fully shut. Hopefully, no one sees it.
My heart pounds as we wait.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
I can’t control the way my body shakes. A scream is lodged in my throat, but I don’t dare let it out. That’s when the boy turns to me. His hand reaches for mine.
“We’re going to be okay.”
I shake my head, back and forth.
He narrows his dark eyes. “Yes. We are. I promise we will be okay.”
“We are going to die . . .”
“We won’t. Because of you. You saved my life,” he whispers. “Why?”
I don’t answer his question. What can I say? I shrug, and pain cuts through my side. I wince at the movement. “Are you hurt?”
“I think so.”
He opens the door a tiny bit. More light penetrates the space but not enough that anyone can see in. It’s enough for me to see him, though. His large blue eyes stare back at me.
“We’re going to be okay,” he says, but I don’t believe him. My breath is shallow. My head spins.
“Take a deep breath.”
I can’t. I try, but I can’t. He reaches across the space and takes my hand in his. Then his finger draws a circle on the pulse of my left wrist.
“Look at me. Inhale,” I don’t know how old he is, but he’s so strong. “We are going to be okay, I promise. Now exhale.” His fingers continue the pattern as he prompts me to breathe.
As he whispers soft promises, I can’t help but become transfixed on the front of his shirt. On the design of a paper airplane.
“You’re the plane, and I’m the sky,” I say, my voice wobbling from blood loss. I don’t want him to see my pain, so I let my lips spread wide and give him a wink.
He smiles down at me, and for a moment, I forget all about the pain. “I’m the plane, and you’re the sky,” he repeats.
My head shakes back and forth. My eyes open and meet his gaze. His hand reaches out and swipes the tear away.
“You’re alive,” I whisper.
“I am.”
I don’t understand what’s happening. How this is happening. After I got out of the closet, my life changed. Everything I loved was gone. And I thought I had him, but then I—
“I was told you were dead.”
“Sometimes I wish I were,” he says as he flips my hand over and traces the little paper airplane tattoo I had placed on the same spot where he calmed me so many years ago. “You got this for me.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because you saved me.”
He leans forward, his hand leaving my wrist and lifting the side of my shirt. I feel his fingers tracing the scar that day left. I lift my own hand and place it over his heart and shake my head. “I didn’t save you. You saved me.”
“We saved each other,” Tobias answers as he moves closer. Our faces are a mere inch apart. “Why did you think I was dead?”
“He told me you were.”
“Who told you?”
“My dad—” Then I’m shaking my head. “My adoptive dad.”
Tobias’s eyes are wide, and they look deep and endless. “What exactly—?”
“Stop.”
He does.
“I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to think about him.”
“What do you want, then?” He leans in closer. So close, my chest heaves into his.
“To see you. To touch you. To understand how you are here. Are you here?” I move closer, tracing my fingers over his skin and down his jaw. I trace the lines of his face. Trace his face as if I’m remembering. And I am.
I remember the boy in the closet with me. The older boy who kept me safe. Kept me calm. He might think I saved him, and in a way, I did. I stopped him from falling to the same fate as my parents, as his dad, but he saved me. His presence has been with me since that day. He’s guided me.
I reach up and touch his cheek, feeling the stubble there. He’s so handsome with his dark hair and light eyes. I can’t stop touching him, and I don’t want to. He lets me. He lets my hands roam. My fingers remember, and then as I do, he barely breathes. He doesn’t move; he just stares, and then he’s touching me back. His hand wraps around my back and pulls me close.
“I was so mad,” he says as his lips hover over mine. “I thought you forgot me. I thought I spent my whole life looking for you, and you forgot me.” Something in his eyes makes me think he wants me to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words falling out of my mouth before I can sort them out. Tobias pulls back, his eyes wide.
“Don’t be,” he says.
“I never forgot you. You were always with me.” He lifts my wrist to his mouth. “And still are.”
He kisses my skin, pulling back to look at me. His gaze lights a blaze inside me. My heart races. It feels like a moment on pause as I wait for him to do something. His tongue moves across the tattoo, sending shivers to run over my body. Then he pulls back, removing his lips from my wrist and pressing his mouth to mine. I kiss him back. The kiss becomes heated, and soon we are both breathing hard. I am lost, and if I’m never found, that’s a fate I would take just to be in his arms.
38
Tobias
I hear the sound before I see her. Blinking my eye, she comes into focus. Skye is walking in.
Lifting my hand, I scrub at my face. What happened? The last thing I remember was kissing Skye. Now, I’m lying down in my bedroom. The shot the doctor gave me must have knocked me the fuck out.
“You’re up.” Skye smiles at me as she crosses the space and stands beside my bed.