Unspoken

Chapter Nineteen: Aubrey

I flinch as my mom's cold hands rest on my shoulders. Her sweet minty scent fills my nose as I try to relax my body into her touch, but it's impossible, my body has been on alert since I got home from Blake's party days ago.

It's Monday morning, but we don't have school today for Labor Day, so I've decided to hide away at Tina's for the entire day while my parents go off to work, telling her every single detail of the kiss I shared that night just to ignore how I feel about it.

I would run a marathon across the continent to avoid thinking about the way I feel about it because really, what good would come of that?

I'm sure he only thinks of it as another kiss with another girl because that's who he is, he thinks of us all as objects on a checklist he needs checks next to, and unfortunately, I let him check my name off.

Feeling anything about the kiss aside from the obvious guilt would be foolish. Feeling any kind of attachment to the thought of it all playing out in an opaque sheen, any kind of love for the way my tongue drags along my lips trying to remember the way he tasted, would be stupid and immature. Yet my tongue leaves a wet line on the skin there, my tastebuds running over every taste, over every individual crack in the lines of my lips just to soak up anything it can get. Any sign he was there.

I think about it all, relishing in the foolishness. Stupidity mocking me with teeth of pleasure.

"Aubrey, how was the party?" she asks as she lets her hands drop from my shoulders, sensing my tensity.

She walks around the large island to grab her cup and places it under her fancy white coffee maker, presses a few buttons, and hot steamy liquid starts to fall into the cup. It fills the room with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans.

I hesitate, letting my lips fall open. I know I should tell her what happened, I know I should tell her that the pain got so bad that I considered ending my life just to get the memories away from me forever. I should tell her how the bruises around my arm suddenly came back and that they faded as Ryan's hands slid around them to hold me closer to his body while I sobbed into his chest. I should tell her how my lips still tremble from the intensity in which I pushed them into his. I should tell her all about the delicacy when he first touched his lips to mine, how I wanted so much more than that gentleness in that moment. I should tell her that the sound of our mouths opening and closing around one another made me want to give him everything I have just to make the sound last a little longer.

But I shut my mouth and nod slowly, "It was fine. Still, I don't think parties are really my thing,"

My heart swells as I think about it again. The hundredth time I've replayed it in my head and it still gets to me all the same as it did when it was actually happening.

"Well, I'm glad you went. Dr. Frogg says you need social exposure, you know?"

"Yeah," You're the reason I went to the party, not the doctor.

She mixes cream and sugar into her mug and then sips it while her perfectly manicured hands rest on the shiny surface of the granite. I can tell she's thinking about something because her eyes aren't as focused as usual and they fall to rest on my face, studying me like my doctors.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asks after a moment.

I knew she could sense something was different. But right now, all I can think about is the taste of blood and tears and whiskey and somehow I can't bring myself away from that memory long enough to tell her about it. "Yes, I'm just tired. I haven't been getting the best sleep recently for some reason, but it's nothing to worry about, I'm sure. I'll try to fall asleep earlier tonight,"