Secrets & Love

Chapter 12: Joshua

    The door closed behind me. Rage yet calmness overcomes me. My mother really had to do this early in the morning.

I walked over to my room, feeling the coolness of the air on my boiling body. Her touch made me tingle. The feeling lingered, how I wanted it again, but why? I barely knew her, how could I catch so quickly?

I placed a white t-shirt over my head, rubbing my eyes shortly after. As the sound of a knock at the door came, a gentle touch.

"Come in," I groaned, sitting on the bed. The door creaked open, though I didn't look over.

"You alright?" my fathers voice arose. Mother must have gone back with a rant. Someone had to stand up to her. Ava doesn't deserve to be treated like that. No one does. Especially Ava.

"Yea, I'm good," I looked over to him. His eyes are still sleepy, "is she mad?"

He chuckled with an eye roll, "when is she not mad?" I laughed along with him, "but yes, she is mad. Mind telling me what happened?" he came over, sitting beside me.

"I was in Ava's room, we accidentally fell asleep while talking. so I went to go to my room, but woke her up," I looked away, staring at the palms of my hands, "then mom showed up, angry as always. So I stood up to her. I didn't say anything mean, all I said was to stay out of thing.'' I sighed looking back at it. She gets under my skin. Under something new, and sensitive.

I stood up from the bed. Walking over to the closet, picking a pain of light jeans, and my regular work boots. I felt the eyes of my father behind me. Though there was no more to say.

"You like her; don't you?" his voice so sure, yet with the hint of joy.

"What?"

"Ava. You like her."

"Of course I like her, she's good, she's a nice girl, she-..'' I stopped myself from rethinking that sentence. What does she do to my brain? Though I knew that wasn't what he meant. He chuckled, his footsteps leading to the door.

"She's good indeed," he left the room with no other words. I couldn't help but breathe out a smile.

She stood in the room across from mine, who knows what she's doing. Sleeping? Reading? It's a mystery. She's a mystery. Though that's what I like. Being able to know something new everyday. Knowing every second she's near, she's more comfortable, and less afraid of me. My touch. Me.

I walked down the stairs, the slight smell of pancakes in the fumes. Mother sat at the table, a cup of coffee in one hand, while she worked on a computer in the other. She glared me down as I walked into the kitchen, but I didn't let her get in. She may be my mother, but she can't control me, nor Ava. she needed to be put in her place.

My father finished the pancakes, placing the pan off the hot burner. The pile laid beside him, though he moved it on to the island behind him.

"Hungry?" he asked with a smile.

"Starving," I laughed, walking over to the cabinet with the plates, taking a few pancakes off the pile.

"Make sure to bring for lunch," he reminds me, taking out a container, "there's plenty."

I watched as my mother shifted in her seat as I took my spot at the table with her. She sipped her coffee, keeping her eyes on her computer screen, glaring every once and a while, my father didn't approve as he came to sit down as well.

"Where's the girl?" she asked, which boiled my anger.

"She has a name," I growled, trying to keep my cool.

"She shall do as she pleases," my father put in, trying to break the conversation. "How's the breakfast?"

"Delicious as always," he couldn't help but smile at the words.

The sound of a computer closing came suddenly. Catching the eyes of my father and I. my mother with a furious face was all we saw.

"What is it?" my father calmly asked, though her eyes are pinned on me.

"Are you just going to allow your son to treat me the way he does?" she said, darting her eyes back and forth.

"Our son-" she tried to cut him off by speaking, though that only made him angry, "don't cut me off while I'm speaking." she huffed in her seat with wide eyes. "Our son is only standing up for a girl," he stopped himself, "Ava, who you're treating unfairly. She has done nothing wrong."

"She shows up here and acts like she lives here. Helping make dinner, sleeping in our daughters bed-"

"You allowed her to! The day in the hospital you said it was fine," I cut in, standing up, "she does live here, for now at least." she opened up her mouth to speak, though I walked away, taking my plate with me.

I was furious as I drove in the car. Her words race in my head. Where's the girl? Her stares, her eyes, vivid and burning into my brain. I let out a scream, hitting my steering wheel a few times, until my already bruised hand deepened in color. Cursing out a held in breath thought of calming down, stopping at a red light. She is good, my father says, you like her, he says. Do I? His words covered my mothers. Calming my rapid nerves.

She makes me happy. Somehow, some way, she makes me want her. Need her. Just the way she looks at me. From the moment she fell into my arms that night. When she found her safety in my arms. That moment. That moment I should have known. That second. That very second when she looked at me in the hospital room. In the mirror. All those moments. All those smiles. All those laughs. Her calming nerves in my arms. Her touch this morning. I know right then. I want her.

***

"You stink," she teased. I laughed, breathing heavily from the chase. As she did the same in my arms. My body lingered on the smell of sweat and dirt. Though I didn't mind, but what she thought did.

I missed her. Her laugh. Her smile. All of it. As her small body was safe in my arms, I let out a breath, putting my forehead on the top of her head, though a bun laid in my spot. A playful grunt came after a laugh when my face went into her hair. She laughed, lifting her head to face me, as I lifted mine slightly.

"Come on you two," my father called. I heard a small laugh from his direction.

"coming," I yelled back, letting go of her. Though there was a tight squeeze before she let go as well. Did she not want to let go?

A strand of hair fell from her bun, into the front of her face. She made an annoyed look, blowing on the strand with a laugh. I lifted my hand slightly, but pulled away until she nodded it was okay. I guided the strand between my fingers, slowly placing it behind her ear. Her eyes were closed, while her breath sounded like a sudden stop for a moment. I watched as her eyes fluttered open moments after pulling away my hand. She looked at me with her beautiful brown eyes that complimented her brown hair and pale skin. Losing all focus of time, feeling, thought, as her eyes hid stories that are eager to be released at some point. Every detail is something special. Even the slight bruising that has started to fade over the days. Her lips were a blush pink, natural, and full. Even with the slightly swollen cut that pierced the skin. She licked them innocently as I followed back up to her eyes. The brown eyes that I would like to call mine.

Though her hair was messy, and dressing wasn't something to wear outside the home, she made it work. In her own way of comforting herself in a place so new, she grew more comfortable by the minute. Her smile grew more and more, as her laugh became fuller. Those small things are the big ones. The most important.

"Josh?" she said, calmly, and soothing. For her voice is both those things. Even in question. Wait. How long has it been?

"Huh?" I shook my head out of thought. She laughed at the sight.

"Coming to eat?" she asked with a smile, taking a step back.

"Oh, right," I nervously placed my hand at the bottom of my scalp. Feeling the gross amount of damp hair beneath my fingers, making me cringe.

She walked backwards to the table, though turning around a few feet back. I watch for a second, taking in a breather. Oh how she makes me feel. So happy, yet nervous. The way time stops around her. It amazes me. Though I shook off these thoughts, and headed after the girl in front of me.