Page 87 of Rules of Association

“What?” I asked. “You don’t think you did good?

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

“No, I did fine,” she said in a tone that implied‘obviously’and I barely restrained my scoff. “But Con, did you…”

Stopping, she frowned even more as she tightened her arms around herself. She looked like she was going to forgo her question altogether until I ducked my head to catch her eye. Quietly I probed, “Cee, I’m listening.”

“Did you bring me here because you think I did something wrong that night?”

My head jerked as I stared at her. Sharp air sliced through my throat and into my lungs. I tried to swallow it down but it didn’t work against the raw feeling that her truth was giving me.

All at once, I started to understand. I understood her withdrawing, her jumpy behavior, her staring off into space with angry eyes. I think in that moment I saw straight into her mind. Straight into the depth of the fear and doubt she had been battling with, and I didn’t fucking like it.

“Come here,” I said.

She did, without hesitation and I found that satisfied some frazzled part of my subconscious that was afraid she might be mad at me or blaming me for the way she was feeling. Really, what I found as I looked into her downtrodden face, was that she was looking to me for support. For reassurance. For strength.

“Look at me,” I said to the top of her head as she suddenly found her fingernails so interesting.

This time she didn’t obey so easily. She peeked upward just a little before biting her lip and rolling her eyes away, like this was stupid. My hands itched to spank her sassy ass like I had outside my house. But my need for her to be alright urged me to do something else.

Stepping into her space, I slid both my hands behind her neck, fingertips pushing slightly into her hair. Her ponytail had loosened over the course of the class, so my hands slipped through the fiery strands easily. Her head was warm and a little damp with sweat and soft to the touch. I tugged on her hair just a little so that she would look up at me. And when she did, the cradle of her head flopped into the support of my grip.

She looked at me then, her eyes glaring slightly but her focus successfully mine. I massaged her gently in thanks.

Humming, she closed her eyes, and I wondered what else I had to do to keep her purring like this for me. Finally, when she opened those eyes again, she was waiting for me to explain myself.

“Do you remember when Tiney was in the hospital?”

Stiffness overtook her muscles and I circled my fingers slightly, trying to alleviate it. I appreciated her caring when it came to my sister. When she’d fallen ill enough that there was a chance she wouldn’t make it, my brothers and I hadn’t been the only ones terrified. The Fernandez’s were right there with us. Stressing, worrying, crying. Ceci most of all.

That was a time where I couldn’t tell my up from my down. When someone could have told me the sky was red and I would’ve believed them. I remembered being so crowded by fear and pain and regret and shame and every horrible immobilizing emotion imaginable. I didn’t have to recount it for her. Ceci had been there. We almost broke the secret of our friendship way back then, as she held onto me in the middle of the hospital and borderline growled at me as she told me to keep it together. Her attempts at a pep talk.

All these memories were clear and vibrant as they danced along Ceci’s eyes. She nodded.

“Remember how scared I was?”

She nodded again.

“Remember what you said to me?”

Her head shook.

Leaning down, I lowered my voice. “You told me that if I wanted to close my eyes, I could, and you would let me know when it was safe to open them again.”

“Poetic,” she drawled sarcastically.

“Yeah I know, you’ve got a gift,” I drawled right back. She wrinkled her nose fighting a smile. “But you do remember that don’t you?

“Yeah, so?”

“So, you were my lifeline then. More than my brothers or my parents or any of my other friends.You.

“The other night is the only time I’ve ever seen you scared. It made me realize that I’ve never actually seen you struggle with anything, Cee. When you do, you’re either trying to cover it up or you hide from me. But I’m not going to let you struggle through something like this alone.

“You did nothing wrong. But I can tell you’re struggling to let yourself believe that, so I want to help you through it. And I don’t care whether it's me, or your new friends or this place that becomes your lifeline. Whatever it is, I want to help you find it. You were there for me. I want to be here for you.Let me be here for you.”

I’m pretty sure I was whispering, or just talking really softly. Although the class had cleared out for the most part, there were still some people hanging around talking or exchanging contact information or just stretching. They weren’t important. I wished they weren’t there, especially since this was a subject Ceci was sensitive about, but if I had to go another minute with her thinking I was disappointed in anything she did… I just couldn’t.

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