Page 19 of The Way We Are

Anger slicks my skin when he tightens his grip on Savannah's thighs. My first thought is to yank him away from her and finish what I started earlier tonight, but for some odd reason I can’t force my legs to move.

Not forward anyway.

Remembering Savannah's earlier request for me to give her time to find the right path, I take a retreating step. Although I've witnessed my dad hold my mom in a similar clutch many times the past ten years—shameful tears and all—I trust Savannah. She's as smart as she is beautiful, so I’m confident she’ll see through Axel’s ruse.

I’m not going far—only to the tree line sheltering Savannah’s mansion from the roadside. I’m close enough to pounce on Axel if he makes one wrong move, but not close enough to hear Savannah’s response to his repeated promise.

If the anger radiating out of her in invisible waves is anything to go by, her reaction to his ignorance is anything but pleasant. Her tiny hands are balled into fists at her side, and her plump lips are practically nonexistent, having hardened into straight lines. Irritation isn’t the only thing Savannah’s eyes are carrying, though. She's as uncomfortable with her exchange with Axel as I am. And just like me, she’s at a loss on what to do about it.

When Axel continues blubbering like an imbecile, Savannah loosens her fists so she can weave her fingers through his hair in a comforting manner. Although peeved she's offering him comfort, I suspect it’s her maternal nature coming into play.

Savannah is a nurturer; she has been since the day she took her first breath, so expecting that to change is as impossible as erasing racism with a click of my fingers. I’d love both things to be an easy fix, but that isn’t how things work.I know that better than anyone.

Another five minutes pass before Axel's groveling ceases. He stands from his begging position, dusting the gravel off his knees. With a gleam in his eyes that reveals his tears were nothing but a hoax, he bands his arms around Savannah's back and acquaints their lips. Their kiss barely goes beyond a PG 13+ rating, but anger scorches my veins like Satan is prepping them for his latest recruits.

I thought Axel's pathetic grovel would be the worst thing I'd encounter spying on their exchange like a freak in the bushes, but this tops the cake. I can't believe Savannah fell for his ruse. She's smarter than this. The girl who challenged every boy in our kindergarten class to arm wrestle her to prove girls are as strong as boys is smarter than this.

Before I can get annoyed at Savannah losing a trait I’ve always admired, Axel withdraws from their embrace. He trails his index finger over her lips, clearing away evidence of their kiss as quickly as the moisture dried on his cheeks, then raises his eyes to hers. "Tomorrow, me and you, babe, lunch at the wharf." His monotone leaves no doubt his comment isn't a suggestion. It's a demand.

Savannah replies, “I can’t. I have plans tomorrow.”

“With who?” Axel asks, his mannerism a stark contrast to the person blubbering like a baby minutes ago. He glares at Savannah like she is gum stuck on his shoe, the suspicion in his eyes volatile.

Even from a distance, I can’t miss Savannah’s quick swallow. “It’s just a get-together with family.” She musters an uneasy smile before asking, “Did you want to come?”

Axel recoils like her last question was accompanied by bucket loads of vomit. “Family? Yeah, no thanks.”

After pressing his lips to the edge of Savannah's hard-lined mouth, Axel heads to his car parked halfway down the driveway. With the poor lighting and my panic sky-high, the gleaming red paint of his sports car wasn't noticeable during my sprint down the gravel path. Like he could be any more of a douche, he jumps into his car through the open rooftop instead of using the door like a normal man would.

When Axel fires up his engine, Savannah shuts her car door, then makes her way to the front door. She has only scaled three of the many stairs leading to her mammoth residence when Axel calls her name.

He waits for Savannah to face him before cautioning, “Tonight’s incident could have been avoided if you’d heeded my warning.”

My suspicion piques when Savannah dips her chin, wordlessly agreeing with his reply.

Pleased with her likeminded response, Axel smiles a slick grin. “Good. I’ll see you on Sunday. I want tocatch upbefore we head back to school.” The greasy way he says “catch up” leaves no doubt on what he is implying.

Not deterred by the late hour, Axel revs his engine, sending its loud rumble bellowing through the dead-quiet night. The deep growl of his motor nearly drowns out his next warning, “It will be better for all involved if you stay away from Ryan.”

Assuming she will agree to his caution with the same eagerness she did the first time around, he floors the gas pedal. The smell of burning gasoline lingers when his car rockets toward the exit, his vehicle disappearing over the horizon at a record-breaking pace. I’ve barely had time to register what he said, much less respond.

Pretending I can’t feel unease brewing in my gut, I return my eyes to Savannah, anticipating she’ll go inside. She doesn’t. She's standing in the exact spot she was before Axel’s brutish departure, her chest rising and falling in the same steady rhythm as mine. Our conjoined breathing indicates she's as bothered by Axel’s last warning as I am. There's just a slight difference: she’s not overcome with anger; she’s deliberating his suggestion.

I’m not going to lie; that fucking hurts. We haven’t spoken in years, but I thought we broke through some mammoth barriers tonight. Fuck, I hope I didn’t misread her, because she didn’t just walk away from tonight with my deepest, darkest secrets resting on her hip; she walked away with the piece of my heart she stole when I was only six.

My thoughts stray from murky waters when, out of the corner of my eye, I spot Savannah spinning on her heels and climbing to the foyer of her family estate. I watch her in silence, my rapid heart rate matching her soundless steps.

The stickiness coating my skin grows when just before she enters the sizeable door, her head slings in my direction. Even with half my face shadowed by the large trees edging her property, I know she spotted me spying on her. Not only does the guilt in her dilated eyes triple the longer she stares my way, so does the energy, which is as thick and dense as it was in our treehouse earlier tonight.

A brick lodges in my throat when Savannah mutters, “Goodnight, Ryan.” Her voice is sickly-sweet, a stark contrast to the worry clouding her alluring eyes.

When she remains frozen halfway through the threshold of her front door, I scrub my hand over the stubble on my chin, contemplating whether I should blow my cover.

My pause is utterly pointless when I reply, “Goodnight, Savannah,” not even two seconds later.

Savannah is discreet, but I don’t miss the faint smile tugging at her lips before she enters her home. It's a smile that reveals she isn’t bothered by my stalking. She's pleased.

7

---