How He Broke My Heart

Chapter 11

(Why Do You Feel So Down, by Declan McKenna)

I quiver as I pass through the shop doors, hoping that he is busy with customers, but he's not. A young guy walks past me with a bag in his hand, on his way out. My eyes follow the guy then look forward to find Brandon behind the counter, his hands against the tabletop as he leans forward. Our eyes connect immediately, and I contemplate turning around and running out. Before I can even take a good breath, Brandon starts.

"Emma," Oh God, please don't say my name, "why did you run away?"

Suddenly I feel as if I've forgotten English. My lips part, but no words come out. Brandon notices my struggle and moves from behind the counter, nearing me. With every step he takes, the panic inside of me intensifies. "Look, I know you've got this whole 'nobody come near me' thing going on, but I don't buy it. Stop pushing everyone away. Some people are getting together tonight—join us. Have some fun."

Just as I realize he's coming too close, I shoot my hand out and create a barrier between us. This only amuses him, though. And I suddenly want to feel more of him. I can feel his chest rise and fall underneath my palm before his hands take mine off of him, but he doesn't let go of me. Brandon reels me in and brushes my hair from my face, all while I'm frozen. I could say anything. I could even kiss him again, but instead, the only thing that leaves me is, "It's your turn for break."

"Do you really want me to leave?"

Yes. Yes, I really do. No. No, I actually don't, but you'll never know that. "You know what I'm going to say."

He shakes his head. "No, I don't. You're very unpredictable, so much so that I just can't figure you out. I would ask you to be honest with me, but I feel like you can't be honest with yourself either."

I yank my hand from his. "Fine. I want you to leave. I want you to leave me alone for the rest of the summer."

"I don't think the girl in the back room wants that."

It doesn't matter what she wants! "Well, you're never going to see her again so it doesn't matter."

Brandon looks at me as if I'm betting him. He's hearing: make her come out. Knowing what's coming, I manage, "Bran—" before he snatches me again and presses his lips to mine. His hands push into my back, making me wish the fabric of my shirt wasn't there. I want to feel his skin against my skin, his warmth, his liveliness. I want to steal it from him.

It's slowly changing from structured to desperate, and I just can't move away. I can't help but kiss him back and follow him wherever he goes. Suddenly I feel the counter behind me, fearing that I'll be sitting on it any second. While I can, I sneak my hands up the back of his shirt, remembering the look of him as he lays on the sand. Golden, smooth, muscled, my hands drink him up. My toes curl against my sandals and a pressure grows within me, making me ashamed, making my hands leave his back and touch his chest, ready to push him away. I lose focus. I turn my head to the side and drift off as Brandon's fingers trickle up my legs, ready to lift me up. "Emma," he breathes against my cheek, making my legs yearn to squeeze together, making my head spin with a ruthless dizziness.

His kisses pour down my jaw and tickle my neck, and suddenly I find the power to push him away. His eyes are hungry, but I'm not going to be devoured by him, not ever. My chest rises and falls and his does the same, the gentle movements so different from what we were just doing. "I have to go," I mutter, clutching my bag against me, making my move for the doors. Brandon lets me pass him, but when I hurriedly push through the doors my heart skips a beat. "Sally," I blurt, nearly running into her.

"Hey, I had to come in to—"

I interrupt her without a second thought. "I quit. I'm sorry, but I just have to leave." She calls for me as I rush down the sidewalk, but I don't look back, the guilt is already numbing my fingers.