Waiting for Superman

Chapter 8: In His Arms

Waiting for Superman to pick her up, in his arms

Andy’s P.O.V.

I lay there on the ground, unmoving. I can’t even attempt to move. It hurts too much. I can feel blood on my leg.

Why would Beau do this to me? He promised, he promised that he wouldn’t hurt me anymore. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that he’d actually keep his promise.

I manage to pull myself up, wincing as I put weight on my left leg. I glance down at it and gasp when I see the long cut on my leg.  I must have cut it when I fell. I bring a hand to my head once the world sways, and I hear a noise. I stop and look around, but I don’t see anything. I decide that it was because that Beau hit me in the head that I’m imagining things. Simply hallucinating. It’s completely normal.

I throw that theory out the window when I hear a door slam from the end of the alley. My head whips around but I don’t see anyone. I glance around, trying to see a car light or anything. To my left, a garbage can tips over. I jump and turn to face it. I can’t see anything.

My heart thumps in my chest. What could have possibly made that noise? Someone’s here. Someone’s watching me. I can feel their eyes on me. I back up and jump once my back collides with something solid. I turn quickly and breathe a sigh of relief when it’s only the wall.

Behind me, something clangs. I spin around and I don’t see anything. Desperately I look up and down the alley, but I still don’t see anything. I can feel something watching me. Something else is in this alley with me.

I turn around in circles, trying to see into the shadows behind the garbage cans. I feel something brush against my leg and I scream, brushing at my leg and jumping away. I collide with the wall and take several deep breaths, trying to control my fear.

“Nothing’s here,” I tell myself firmly. “It’s nothing; you’re just a little drunk.”

Something wet brushes against me leg and I stifle a scream and glance down. It’s only a cat. A little, sopping wet, black kitten with bright yellow eyes.

“Aww,” I coo and pick it up, ignoring the wet fur. “Where’s your owner?”

I look around as the cat meows. I don’t see anyone and the cat is skinny. I can feel her ribs.

“Hallo, Katze,” I murmur, petting it.

The cat seems to enjoy my German, so I keep speaking it. “Wie heisst du? Wie alt bist du?”

The cat meows again and snuggles against my dress. I hug it to my chest. Suddenly, the door to the club bangs open and I leap back, scared that Beau is coming back for me. The person stumbles forward until it hits the opposite wall. Beau must be really drunk. I hold the cat to my chest is fear and huddle against the wall.

“Who are you?” I call out.

The person turns around and comes closer. I shrink against the wall until I recognize them.

“Louis?” I ask incredulously.

The person, Louis, nods. “Hey Andy. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I shrug. “Needed some fresh air.”

The cat meows and Louis’ eyes fix on it. He glances up at me. “And you brought your cat to a club?”

 I shake my head. “No, this cat isn’t mine. I found it out here. Or rather, it found me.”

“Your English is very proper,” Louis notes. “Why’s that?”

I blink. I’d always prided myself on my English and no one had ever told me that it was proper. “It’s not my first language,” I answer.

“That’s interesting,” Louis says, coming closer. “What was your first language?”

“German,” I say.

“Speak some for me?” Louis asks. When I give him a look, he continues. “I’ve never really heard German before.”

I take a deep breath. “Hallo, ich bin Andy. Ich bin einundzwanzing Jarhe alt. Ich komme aus Deutschland.”

“Cool!” Louis smiles. “What did you say?”

 “I said “hello my name is Andy, I’m twenty one years old and I come from Germany,’” I translate.

“I’m twenty one too!” Louis smiles.

I smile back, and suddenly the alley swims. I groan and clutch my head. Louis’ smile falls off his face and he looks closely at my head.

“Andy, you’ve got a huge bump on your head!” he exclaims.

He insists on taking me to the club bathroom to fix me up. When he ushers me into the men’s room, some guys grin and flash him a thumbs up. All Louis does is blush. I sit on the counter, as I’m much shorter than Louis and he takes a wad of toilet paper and dabs at my head.

Then, he notices my leg. “Andy, where did you get these?”

“I fell,” I lie. “I’m not very good at walking in heels,” my sheepish smile seems to convince him.

Louis ties some paper around my leg to stop the bleeding.

“There you go,” he says, dusting his hands off. “All better.”

“Thank you,” I say, examining my leg. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“I have four sisters,” he replies. “And I’m the oldest. I learned some first aid.”

“I have two brothers,” I say. It’s the first time I’ve mentioned them in years. “I used to think that was bad.”

Louis smiles at that, and suddenly I notice how close we are.  I take a deep breath, unsure of what is happening. Louis’ eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips, and I see him swallow. I can feel his breath on my face and I can smell his cologne, and he smells so good. His blue eyes are so mesmerizing; I can’t pull myself away.

All of a sudden, Louis captures my lips in the gentlest kiss. His hand cups my chin, holding him closer to me. I close my eyes and loose myself in his kiss. His touch is soft and gentle and I don’t want to move from his arms.

Suddenly, he pulls away from me and I am left on the counter, shocked that he pulled away. Was it something that I did? Am I not a good enough kisser? Why did he pull away?

“Sorry,” Louis mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

He leaves the bathroom, leaving me sitting there gaping after him. I don’t want him to leave. His kiss made me feel something. I don’t know what it was, but it made me feel alive.