Page 276 of Ominous: Part 1
My pulse ricochets all over, and I wonder when my heart will get a break. If I should simply plan to take my medicine every day I spend around him.
He must feel me jump, because he says, “It’s okay, Eden.”
I suck in air, resisting the urge to push him away and barricade myself in the bathroom. What a disaster I was, just hours ago.Was it hours?The sun isn’t up, and I couldn’t have slept an entire day away, right?
I lift my head, wipe the back of my hand over my mouth, resettle against his chest, forcing myself to stay.
Stay, stay, stay.
I can hear it in his pulse.
Don’t run from me.
I close my eyes, fighting the impulse. “What time is it?”
His arms, already so heavy around me, pull me in tighter. “I don’t know. Sun isn’t up yet.”
My fingers are splayed over his chest, the sliver of a cut I made. I feel the roughness of his skin there.God, I really did that.
I brush my thumb across my bottom lip, trying to wipe away the drool completely.
I want to spiral back to sleep.
It would feel just like running away, but more polite.
I know it won’t happen, though. My mind is free of the panic, but now comes another type of anxiety. Embarrassment from a moment of weakness.
“Dominic?” I ask, my voice throaty as I try to deflect from my own actions.
“In his room.” I can’t read anything in Eli’s tone. I wonder if he regrets letting Dom touch me.
“Can you tell me what you were thinking, last night?” Eli asks, so quietly.
I don’t want to tell him because it’ll sound like a weakness. Like I’m a victim. It’ll sound like I need him to fix the problem and I don’t.
But I remember his truths in the library. So many words spun with blood, and maybe he doesn’t experience shame, but he’s intelligent enough to know he should. To understand everything he confessed—and itwasa confession—is something society bristles at. He’s dealt with the proof for so long. Doctors, psych wards, a mother walking out.
I keep my head buried against him, aware I should brush my teeth, but I know I can’t put this off for that.
“I saw someone I used to know. When I went with my mom to the beach.”
Eli doesn’t react. He doesn’t speak or move or… breathe. His chest doesn’t rise and fall beneath my lips.
I guess it is a reaction. Just the quiet kind.
“My brother’s friend.” I hope he remembers the story, so I don’t have to say it all over, out loud. He works very hard not to move a muscle. But he inhales again. Just once.
He remembers.
I want to know what he’s thinking at the same time I’d rather move on. Never speak of this again. Three words I gave him, and it feels like three words too many.
He exhales.
“Was your mom there?” If I heard him speak from the distant line of a telephone, I would assume he’s disinterested. Bored.
But I feel the tension in his body, shielding mine.
“No.”
