We Found Love

Chapter 5

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“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Anthony said blankly - I knew what he meant by that quote. I couldn’t do it though. I couldn’t be faced with another person not believing me. Because I mean, let’s face it. If my own mother didn’t believe me, why would I expect him to?
“Fine,” I said shakily. It was an empty promise - I realize, but maybe between the time he started telling the story, and the time he finished, I could either A. Muster of the confidence to tell him, or B. Make up a good enough lie.
Anthony took my hand, walking with me through the trees. The gates for camp were pretty far away from where we were now - I guess whoever built this place wanted their prisoners to seem like they could escape. I squeezed Anthony’s hand gently, watching my feet as we passed through a large bunch of dead leaves.
We arrived at a slow moving river, the water almost crystal clear. I looked up at Anthony, our hands still tightly clasped together. He smiled at me - he’d obviously had a lot of time for exploring. Something hit me suddenly - a thought. Since when did Anthony and I get along? Since when did we hold hands? He’d hated me and thrown a fit over my entire existence on the first day of our stay here - and now... now he was holding my hand, and smiling at me.
He sat down, dropping my hand and patting the spot next to him. I nodded, dropping down and sitting where he’d ordered. He looked at me skeptically, and I realized only then how odd I was probably acting.
“Well,” I said, arching my eyebrow. He groaned, rolling his eyes sarcastically. If it was a touchy place for him, he could have said no. I made myself comfortable, crossing my legs and adjusting my shirt so my tits didn’t hang all over the place. Anthony had seen enough of them for one day.
He ran his hand through his hair, picking up a rock from the ground and skipping it across the water in front of us. I watched it, hypnotized by the ripples it created. It took me a good minute to realize he was talking now. I turned my head to face him - though his face was still watching the water.
“I lived with my parents till I was eleven - they died in a car accident. That left my sister and I to live with my Aunt. The one who murdered my sister, yeah? That’s a story I don’t tell. But after the authorities found out about her,” He paused, his body shaking a bit. I wrapped my arm around his waist, moving closer to him and kissing his cheek. A smile formed on his lips, making me smile as well.
I didn’t know what Anthony and I were - friends, friends with benefits... more. I like to think we were more - that we were something nobody had been before, that nobody could be again. I like to believe that we were special. But in reality, we were teenagers - two, insane teenagers.
“They sent me to live with an Uncle on my mom’s side. He was a good man - but, I guess you could say he let me get out of control. I drank, I did drugs - I cut. I never tried to kill myself, but I guess he wanted to stop me before it happened,” He paused again, turning his head and kissing the top of my head.
“Do you think...” I started, looking up into his eyes - his beautiful blue eyes, “Anything could have stopped you....had you tried?” I finally asked, my eyes moistening from the seriousness of the conversation. Anthony was the only boy I had a connection with - the only boy I could feel.
Now sure, I’d had plenty of boyfriends before - and sad to say, I was not a virgin. But - I never loved any of them. I thought I had, once. But after I gave up the only thing I had, the boy left me just as everyone else did. That may have been another reason I’d shattered so quickly - but he wasn’t THE reason. He wasn’t important to me at all, now that I think back on it.
“The first time I tried to kill myself,” I said, looking up at him once more, a tear rolling down my cheek at the memory, “I was in a rough place - not nearly as rough as the second time, but rough enough. It really wasn’t even me trying to kill myself,” I shrugged, letting out a light giggle.
“I just cut to deep,” I finally finished, biting my lip. I wasn’t weak. I’m not weak. I would not cry. I didn’t cry - not at the memories. I’d bottled them up a long time ago, and I was not about to let the feelings come poring back into my head - into my heart.
Anthony leaned into me, rubbing the tears from my cheeks and kissing me. He kissed me in between sobs - in between rubbing the tears from my face with his jacket. I smiled, laughing at myself as the tears continued to roll down my cheeks. I wasn’t laughing because I’d forgotten - I was laughing because I was letting go. Anthony was letting me let go.
“I can’t tell you about my story just yet,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder as the sun began to go down. We both reluctantly stood, our hands meeting as if they were pulled together by gravity.
“When can you tell me?” He asked, looking down at me with eyes that told so many stories - that begged for stories in response. I hoped my eyes would respond to him, I hoped that my body language would explain why I couldn’t tell him - because I couldn’t begin to explain it. I couldn’t lose Anthony just as I’d gotten him. I would tell him one day, but for right now, I wanted it to be us - him and me - Anthony and Annabelle - a couple.
“When you can tell me the story of your sister,” I said, blinking a few times at the words that had escaped my lips. Anthony looked at me like I was crazy - but then, not. He nodded, understanding crossing his mind.
It was nice - to have somebody who understood where I was coming from. To have somebody who didn’t ask a thousand questions. I walked with Anthony back into camp - it was Friday night, and there were probably a billion parties going on all around camp. I let go of Anthony’s hand, taking off into the field like a wild animal.
“Chase me!” I screamed, running backwards for a few steps before turning back around. I wanted to cheesy - I wanted to be a movie. I could hear Anthony running behind me, and honestly, if magic powers were real, I’m sure I’d be flying now. I was about to speed up, when I hit the ground, a male voiced “oof!” sounding from my back.
I rolled over to see Anthony on top of me, laughing, “They always make it look so graceful in the movies,” he laughed. I stared at him like he was crazy for a good few minutes before busting out laughing, myself. Anthony was seriously one of the most interesting people I’d ever met.
“Anthony,” I whispered just before his lips crashed against mine. His kisses were perfect - like a piece of perfectly cut cheese cake on a hot day. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding his face down close to mine.
“Annie,” He whispered back against my lips, pulling his head up as far as he could without straining himself against the force of my arms. I loosened my arms, laughing at the face he pulled when he realized he couldn’t full break free from my grasp.
“What are we?” I asked, our eyes meeting - I don’t know if I’ve made this clear, but Anthony’s eyes are like a glimpse into heaven.
“Teenagers,” He laughed sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, sitting up and biting his neck.
“Hey!” A counselor screamed, and I rolled my eyes pushing Anthony off of me and standing up. I looked at the chunky black woman walking towards us, a determined stare on her face. I thought everybody here were angels, or whatever - who let Queen Lateefa in here?
“You kids need to back off each other,” The woman, who’s name was apparently Carol, demanded. I rolled my eyes again, turning away from her and walking off. She tried to call me back - but honestly? What was she going to do? I didn’t have a single privilege at this stupid school. Anthony followed suit, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and flashing a lovely view of his middle finger.
“I’m pretty sure that woman doesn’t even know our names,” I laughed, looking up at him. Anthony laughed again, bending down and kissing me suddenly. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the woman - er, Carol, had walked off. Probably to find some sort of higher authorities, or something outrageous like that. I didn’t care for Carol - not in the slightest.
Anthony and I started walking again, back towards my cabin. I tapped my chin, trying to think if Rose would be back tonight, when suddenly Anthony stopped out of fucking no where, causing me to trip over my feet and almost fall straight on my face.
“ANTHONY! WARN A PERSON!” I yelled, stomping my foot in frustration.
“What are we?” He asked, looking me dead in the eyes.
“Same question,” I responded before having the chance to actually think through what I said. Anthony made a disgruntled face - but it quickly turned to his usual half-grin. Have I ever told you about that beautiful half-grin facial expression he’s constantly wearing? He looks beautiful when he does - so, therefore, he looks beautiful at all times.
“Well YOU are,” He started, stressing the “You,” “The first girl I was ever scared of kissing, the first girl I ever wanted something other than sex from.... the first sober girl I’ve liked in a year,” He shrugged, naming off things about myself as he counted on his fingers. I laughed, rolling my eyes sarcastically and pulling him into my cabin. I laughed as he tripped on the steps and nearly fell on his face. Karma was sweet.
“You’re the first boy I’ve ever had real feelings for,” I shrugged, nonchalantly pulling off my sweats and searching through my drawers for shorts to wear. Anthony had seen me nearly naked, anything now was simply casual nudity.
“I have a question for you,” I said, pulling my shirt off and grabbing for a tank top I’d set on Rose’s bed. I used her bed more than she ever did, I swear.
“Shoot,” He said, laying down on her bed. We both knew she wouldn’t be back tonight, so her enormous bed was fair game. The camp had recently rid us of the horrible bunk beds they’d forced us to sleep on, and upgraded to full sized beds on either side of our cabins - which for whatever reason looked much bigger with the larger beds, than the tiny bunk beds. For whatever reason though, Rose is a special mother fucker, and got a queen bed, because our cabin is apparently the largest on the camp ground.
“If you cut before you came here - where were they when the lady at the front desk checked you?” I asked, cocking my eyebrow suspsiciously. Anthony bent down, lowering his hands low enough so I could fully see his hips - and there, lay over a hundred white scars, some fading away into nothingness. I cringed - my wrists were bad, but for whatever reason, seeing it on another person gave me an entirely new perspective. He pulled his pants back up, and his shirt over his head - they never checked our cabins on friday nights, so if you two people wanted to fuck? well then apparently it was a welcomed engagement.
Anthony climbed into my bed next to me, wrapping his surprisingly strong arms around my waist. He was thin - but still so muscular. It hit me once again - what were we doing? Anthony and I had gone from ignoring each other, and yelling at each other - to this, to cuddling. To me desperately wanting him to tell me he loved me, and kiss me, and make me his for good.
I felt like I did when I came to terms with the fact that I was going mad in the hospital - weird. Part of me was happy that we could be here, like we were, holding each other. But the other part of me wanted to run away, to go back to who I was before this - before the hospital, even.
“You haven’t danced in a while,” Anthony said, his warm breath against my neck making my stiffen as it sent a chill down my spine. I wasn’t used to letting people get this close to me - not after what happened between me and that man - that evil man.
“I haven’t had music,” I shrugged. So okay, I was lying - music played constantly, if even just in my head. But the real reason I couldn’t bring myself to dance again, was because of the past I had with dance. It was like the past Anthony had, had with people named Anabelle. It was a scary thought - to go back to what you had, but know that it would not be the same.
Anthony rolled us out of bed, pulling me gracefully to my feet. He pulled his ipod from the pocket of his sweats, placing it in the dock Rose had set up. She played music while she studied, and I thanked the lord that we had similar music taste.
Anthony turned on “Swing life Away” by Rise Against, and began to sway me about the room. It was a weird song - and in a way, it caused a sort of De Ja Vu effect, as it sang, “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours first,” but what really hit me, was the line that came after it.
“Let’s compare scars, I’ll tell you who’s, is worse, let’s unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words.”
I looked into Anthony’s eyes as we danced around the room - it wasn’t like the night I’d been drinking. It was better, in a way. We had a connection that can not be put into words, that can not be expressed through art, or through any sense. It can only be experienced by feeling it - by seeing us. The song changed then - to one I did not know the name of. It was fast, but Anthony and I continued to slow dance, despite the beat of the song.
He leaned down into me, touching his forehead to mine as we turned and swayed, it was glorious. It a scene straight out of a movie, as the boy turns so elegantly with the girl at the school dance, and the screen fades to black and the credits roll. But this was different - we got to keep going - I got to know what happened after the credits.
After a few more songs, Anthony pulled his ipod out of the dock, and we laid back down in my bed, his arms placing themselves where they had comfortably been previously. I interlaced our fingers, falling asleep so quickly I don’t even recall laying my head down.
“Daddy?” I called out as my father hit my mother, over, and over.
“DADDY!” I screamed. That was not my daddy, that was not what he did. He turned, lifting a gun in my direction and shooting me dead.
I shot up from my dream, looking around me, and running a hand through my hair. I looked at the clock, it read 3:05. I groaned, looking down at a sleeping Anthony next to me. I laid back down, resting my head on his chest comfortably. He stirred a bit, but didn’t wake, which relieved me - I didn’t want him to wake up because of my nightmare. But at the same time, I wanted him to comfort me.
A tear rolled down my cheek, and almost immediately, he wrapped his arms around me. One hand on my head, the other on my back - I had woken him, but he didn’t speak.
“Shh,” He whispered as I sobbed into his chest. I hadn’t the slightest idea what had triggered my nightmare, but Anthony being there made it seem so simple - so nonexistent.
“I’m scared,” I whispered, running my hands down his chest, searing desperately for something to grab onto. I had nothing but his bare skin - so I did the second best thing, I wrapped my arms around his waist, for the first time in years - initiating a hug.
“I’m here,” He whispered, rubbing my back calmly, “I’m here.”
“Tell me you love me,” I whispered.
“I love you,” He breathed out calmly, causing me to smile passed my tears.
“Do you really?” I responded, a hitch in my voice from the crying.
“I have since the first day I saw you,” He laughed.
I eventually fell back to sleep in his arms - his beautifully strong arms.
When I woke up the next morning, Anthony was still next to me - still so close. I was happy to see his chest when I opened my eyes, to feel his grip on me.
“I love you,” I whispered - I loved him.

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