''Tell me how it feels,'' he whispers.
"Good," I gasp, my entire body trembling. Deeper. Harder. Perfect -- like we've been doing this for years.
His hand finds my jaw, fingers firm as he tilts my head up, making me look at him. And that's it.
Wav...
"Then I'll find the smartest doctors in the world. They'll make you better."
"What if they can't?"
"Then I'll be a doctor when I get big and I'll make you better."
"Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
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ᖴO᙭
The sun bleeds out over the horizon, a last gasp of gold fading into discoloured purples and grays, and the rain keeps falling.
Veins stand out against my skin, pulsing like live wires. The tire groans under my grip, my fingers slipping against the slick rubber. My palms burn. My arms tremble. Every muscle in my body screams for me to stop because it's brutal.
I don't know how long I've been here. But it was morning when my brother left, and it's evening now. A beautiful evening washed clean.
This isn't me hiding. This isn't me sulking. I'm mending, remembering, healing. Every flip of the tire is a piece of myself I'm trying to put back together.
I don't hear the Bronco until it's right on me, tires screeching against gravel. Headlights cut through the rain, blinding me for a moment before the engine dies. A door slams, and then there's feet on wet ground.
"Freckles!"
Oh, here we go.
I shove my hands under the tire and lift again. Flip. Crash.
"What?! No!"
"I don't want you here," I pant. Flip.
She ties her wet curls back with a sharp jerk as she stalks over, and before I can tell her to fuck off, she grabs the edge of the tire. Her muscles strain, her face twisting with effort, but she fucking does it. It crashes down at my feet, and she straightens, breathing hard.
"Faro called, dropped an address, and said to get you. There was a big accident downtown so he told me to tell you he's busy. What the fuck is going on?"
"You can go," I say grabbing the tire.
Flip. Crash.
"No," she snaps, stepping back up to the tire. She grabs it again, gritting her teeth as she struggles. Her legs tremble, the rain streaking down her face, but she gets it up and over. It lands with a wet slap, spraying us both with mud. "You looked fucked. You're shaking, covered in mud, and I was given a job. Come on."
"Cam, you don't get it. I don't need you here for this."
She grits her teeth and flips it again, gaining on me. Her legs almost buckle, her grip slips, but she doesn't stop. Stubborn. She's so goddamn stubborn. She's always been like this.
