Page 89 of Collision
“I didn’t go that fast,” he claims, chuckling under his breath.
“If that wasn’t that fast for you, I dare not imagine what fast would be,” I answer, fixing my tangled hair.
He moves closer to me, shaking his head and moving a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ve got no reason to worry when you’re with me,” he whispers. As if hypnotized, my gaze falls involuntarily on his full lips. Strange and dangerous thoughts sprout within me. I wonder if it’s all from the adrenaline I can feel in my body or if there is very simply a wild and seductive charm about Thomas that will never cease to put me on my back foot. “Come on, let’s go this way.” He takes me by the hand and I, stunned at the skin-to-skin contact, follow him.
We walk down a path through the trees and bushes, which Thomaspushes aside to clear my way. The sky above our heads, incredibly clear for a late October day, is crisscrossed by birds. The ground beneath our feet is covered with red and orange leaves. We hear them rustling with every step.
“Where are we?” I ask curiously, looking around as we enter the dense forest.
“Outside the city, beyond the edge of Chip Ross Park, isolated from the outside world,” he tells me distractedly, leading me who knows where.
“Wait a minute.” I pull my hand from his grasp and stop. “What are we doing in a remote forest outside of town?” I ask suspiciously.
He scrutinizes me seriously for a few seconds before saying, “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” I shake my head. He takes a few slow steps toward me, watching me predatorily. “I brought you here because I intend to fuck you in every corner of this forest until you regret ever following me.”
I look at him in horror, my heart hammering in my chest. “Wh…What?”
Seeing my disturbed expression he bursts into shoulder-shaking laughter. “I’m just fucking with you.”
“That’s funny to you?”
“Your face certainly is.” He shakes his head, then resumes walking with his back to me.
“Well, one never knows what’s going on in your head,” I reply testily.
“What’s the matter, Ness, don’t you trust me?” he asks mildly, looking around for something.
“Of course not. I’d be crazy to trust someone like you!” I blurt out immediately. Thomas turns sharply with an anguished expression on his face. He stares at me and with one stride closes the distance between us. He seems disheartened by my words.
He gently touches my cheek, and I have to resist the urge to grab his hand and squeeze it. “I’m not the best person you’ll ever meet, butyou shouldn’t be afraid when I’m around. I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head,” he tells me seriously, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Okay,” I breathe apologetically. We move further into the woods, passing centuries-old shrubs and trees. “Do you come out here often?” I ask after a few minutes of silent walking.
He nods thoughtfully.
“Why?” We advance a few yards until the vegetation thins out a bit and we come to a small wooden bridge. I rush to lean over the edge, watching the river flow by below. It is beautiful, with the play of light and the reflection of the trees on clear water.
“It frees my mind,” he says, joining me at the railing.
“Frees your mind?” I ask, turning around to look at him. This is new to me.
“Yeah, I stop thinking.” He rests his forearms on the rail and watches the river.
“You stop thinking?” I ask, even more skeptically.
“Stop repeating what I say,” he snaps impatiently.
“Sorry! It’s just that, usually, people isolate themselves precisely because they want to think. You, on the other hand, do it to not think… You’re a walking contradiction, Thomas.” I shake my head, stifling a laugh.
“Do you think it’s weird?” he asks, turning to me. “That our brain does nothing but process thoughts. We think all the time, all day long. Isn’t it a pain in the ass sometimes?” I slowly shake my head.
“For me it is. Sometimes, all I want to do is stop thinking. There are people who cut themselves to do it, some people fuck, some people get drunk, some people do drugs…” He stares blankly, looking at some empty point in space. “When I get that feeling, I come here.”
In a way, I think I understand it. This place is for him what books have always been for me: a refuge from reality.
“Why do you feel the need to stop thinking?”
He gives a troubled sigh. “Because when I do, I feel free.”
