Page 3 of Losing a Piece of Me

With more bad news

We left a scar

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Two and a half hours later, I see my exit. The volume on my radio automatically lowers as I exit the interstate and slow the car down.

“Don’t get quiet on me now, I need you more than ever,” I say, turning the dial back up.

Hanging a right off of the ramp, I cruise as slowly as possible without appearing suspicious until I pass the sign on the side of the road that proclaims “Welcome to Cumming”. The sign fills me with memories.

Striker is sitting on the ground smoking a cigarette while I make adjustments to our town sign.

“How’s it look from back there?” I ask him.

“It looks like a giant dick,” he answers.

I turn and look over my shoulder at him before laughing at the stupid grin on his face.

He has his hood pulled up, shadowing all but his lips.

“Okay, I think I’m done.” I take a few steps back to admire my handiwork.

The sign that previously said “Welcome to Cumming” now reads “Thanks for Cumming”. Below these words, a massive spray-painted dick is ejaculating onto the state bird.

He walks up behind me and my back presses into his strong chest. The contact automatically stirs up all the feelings that I’ve been trying to hold back.

“I knew that fucked-up head of yours could come up with something.” The amusement in his voice is clear.

I turn and look up at him. His green eyes light up and remain locked on mine. I love his eyes. They remind me of laying in the shaded grass on a hot summer day. I don’t want to pull my eyes away from his, but instead end up watching as he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and releases it. My eyes are transfixed on his moist lips.

“Lex, I’m going to kiss you now.” His eyes watch me intently.

Heat creeps up into my cheeks. “Okay.” I nod, watching his jaw twitch.

He moves so slowly that I wonder if he’s changed his mind. He places his hands on either side of my face, maintaining his intense gaze. I moisten my lips in preparation for the kiss, and close my eyes. After a pause that feels like forever, his soft lips finally touch against mine.

It’s like an electric shock to my body. They move slowly with my own lips, and all I want to do is devour him. I have dreamt about this kiss for years. Why is he finally giving into me now?

I lift my hands and hang onto his jacket, pulling him closer. His scent teases me. I want nothing more than for him to throw me down in the grass and show me what else that mouth is capable of.

He doesn’t, though. Instead, he pulls away. His hands are still on my face and he leans his forehead against mine. “I’ve been waiting years to do that,” he whispers into the darkness.

I’m breathless. I want to ask him why he waited so long. I want to know if this is going to change things for us. But I don’t ask him any of that. I just close my eyes, feeling his heat sink into me, and relive our passionate, utterly perfect first kiss. The kiss that makes me know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am in love with Striker Murphy.

Seeing that sign brings back everything I felt that night and everything I ran away from six years ago. I shake my head to clear the thoughts and pull out the emergency pack of cigarettes that is tucked in my purse. They have been sparsely used lately, only in times of extreme stress, but I have a feeling that I will have burnt through the entire pack by this weekend.

I light the cigarette and take a long drag, instantly feeling some of the tension leave my body. The smoke flows out of my open window, where it swirls and fades away into the trees.

The bump as my car crosses the railroad track signals that I have reached the edge of town. There is no turning back. A wave of anxiety rises in my chest and I take another long drag of my cigarette, hoping to kill the feelings.

Continuing on, I keep my eyes straight ahead and avoid looking at the houses and buildings – each of which is home to some long-forgotten, often painful memory.

“Just drive. Don’t look around, and don’t stop until you get where you are going,” I tell myself.

A siren blares behind me, followed by a flash of red and blue, and it is no longer possible to ‘just drive’.

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