This chapter wasn't supposed to exist, which is why it messes up the neat and tidy "of 04" I had in my previous submissions. But even I knew how abrupt my original ending was...and some quite insightful suggestions from klaxx allowed me to realize how I might create a better sense of finality. Hence, this chapter.
As with the rest, I would suggest it be read only in the proper order, lest nothing make sense.
---
The remainder of the break passes with such swiftness that it feels positively unfair, as though time itself now conspires against us, hours spent in each other's company seeming hardly more than moments. After that one glorious morning, we don't dare too far inside the house - not with our creaky metal bedframe, and mom never gone for long. We have to steal interludes elsewhere, hidden away in the barn, or in the truck on a deserted stretch of road, or deep in the woods. Not sex - at least, not always. Just bathing in this new depth to our relationship, in love now blooming bright and verdant. Laying beside him in the snow, staring into his eyes...I'd seen couples do that kind of thing before, just stand together for long spans of time, arms entwined as they gazed at one another, and I'd never quite bought it. Never saw the appeal, thought maybe they were faking it, forcing it...pretending, to fool themselves into thinking they had some kind of fairy-tale romance. Now, suddenly, I understand. I could stare forever into those soft sapphire eyes, bask an eternity in the warmth of his embrace. If we had an eternity to spend...
But we don't. Reality calls, grey and dismal, and so after a heartfelt parting with my parents, we're driving back up to the college. Glad, at least, for the accident of logistics that requires David to take the trip twice, to bring back the truck. One more day with him. Maybe two. After that...well.
I glance over, smile softly at David in the driver's seat. Let my hand snake over to ruffle gently in golden hair kissed with pink, stroking idly at the back of his neck. The muscles there loose now, relaxed, as he looks over and grins goofily back at me. The winter sun shining brightly down on us, gleaming in off the hood of the truck. We don't need to talk. Not right now. Silence can be its own language, carry its own melody - a song of tender togetherness, laid atop the rambling guitar that plays from the truck's speakers. I've half a mind to unbuckle myself, to crawl over and squeeze into his lap...but a lurking police car we pass on the side of the highway puts the kibosh on the idea. Wouldn't want to get pulled over for something like that. Especially now that we're nearly there.
It's about seven o'clock when we finally pull into the apartment parking lot and stumble up the concrete stairway to the second floor. Dinnertime - even before I get the door open, my nose picks up the spicy scent of some choice new dish, and once I do, there's two familiar faces looking in my direction all the way over from the kitchen table.
"Well, look who made it." April speaks first, blandly amused, a glass of wine carelessly tilted in her hand. "Guess I owe you five bucks, Mare."
"Welcome back!" Marie's reaction is the stronger, rising from the table and rushing over in greeting. Apology falling into her expression when she's only halfway to me, weakly smiling as she pushes in for a friendly hug. "God, Sam, I'm sorry. You told me you were coming back today, and then when I was preparing dinner I quite forgot." She bites at her lip, looking as though she's telling me about a death in the family. "I'm afraid there isn't any left."
I have to laugh. "Don't worry about it, Mare. I mean, it smells delicious, but David and me filled up on drive-through burgers on the way over." Glancing up at April, a bit of affably disparaging humor curling my lip. "I see the place didn't burn down after all. Good."
She laughs at that, cheerfully enough - but there's a new spark of interest in her eye at the mention of my brother, and it grows only brighter as he steps into the living room after me, toting my largest piece of luggage. A familiar slink in her step as she, too, rises to her feet and joins the gathering just inside the door, her gaze on David at least as much as on me. "It was close. We have some pretty wild parties here, while you were gone." Her tone, at least, keeps to its abstracted, superior amusement, not yet dropping to the low croon of seduction.
"Oh, we did not." Marie rolls her eyes in tolerant exasperation.
"...some pretty wild parties..." April just repeats softly, enamored of her own joke. A little pause, smirking, as she eyes David and me. "How about you two? Bring back any corn for us?" She ends with a vague gesture with her free hand at the living room furniture, taking another sip from her wine. "Sit down, sit down."
It takes me a moment, settling down on the couch next to David, to decide that she's being genuinely friendly. Or at least, mostly genuine. It can be hard to tell with April, sometimes. "Afraid not. Not exactly the season for it, you know."
Her tongue clucks quietly in faux disappointment. "Too bad." A moment's pause, glancing over. "You know, I didn't realize you'd be coming back with her, David. How long are you staying this time?"
He shrugs, smiles small and wry. "Probably just tonight. My school starts up again, day after tomorrow."
April's lips push outward in a pillowy little pout. "A shame." Her gaze flits back over to me - but I'm pretty sure it isn't for my benefit that she slowly crosses her legs, her skirt lifting up above the knee. "Mind if I borrow him tonight, Sam?" Laughter still in her eyes, though her voice carries a challenge slightly slurred with alcohol. "I mean, I was all set to have a boring night in...but if he's here, I'd hate for him to go to waste."
I bristle inside, unable to immediately think how to respond, my hand clutching tight and possessive at David's - but to my relief, he answers for me. "Sorry, April." Firm and confident, with just a hint of humor. "Not gonna happen."
An exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine." Affable enough. But her eyes are curious and enterprising on the two of us, looking at how our fingers lace together, how I sit on the couch leaning comfortably on David's side. For a moment, she opens her mouth to say something more - then shuts it again, shakes her head as she grabs for the remote and flips on the TV. My heart fluttering with an ambiguity of tension and relief. A secret half-kept.
For perhaps an hour the four of us sit there, chatting lightly as we alternate between watching the big-budget drama on the television and the often more engaging antics of Marie's kitten chasing down imaginary prey. And for all the conflict I've had over the last year with April, all the awkwardness now of this secret David and I share...I feel comfortable. Calm. Cheerful, despite the appraising glances April keeps shooting in our direction. Indeed, almost mischievous, snuggling in closer against his side to watch her eyebrow lift. Teasing her with the idea, the truth she must suspect.
I guess I can't be too surprised when this eventually drives her to the breaking point. Really, she showed admirable restraint. "Okay, Sam," muting the volume as she shifts in her seat to face us directly. "I have to ask. That thing we talked about, just before you took off..." She hesitates, and I feel a certain gratitude that she's still being circumspect. Just in case it weren't true. "Did anything happen with that?" Her brown eyes sparkling, engaged and hungry.
A pause, silent. David, warm and solid and reassuring beside me; Marie, looking on in uncertain curiosity, sensing the significance of the question without knowing its implication. Even her kitten seems to be watching, waiting for my answer. I'm not sure what to say. I mean...god, I didn't plan to actually tell her. Didn't think I'd tell
