She jumps up, wheels away from him, fumbles in her pocket for the razor that she always keeps there.
But just as she’s preparing to slice, to save herself, to end the nightmare visions, Guy’s hand clamps down on hers. He pulls her down on the floor again roughly.
“No.” He’s shaking his head. “Not here. Not now. Not with me around.”
“I have to.” Willow is gasping. “Just let me be. Let me do it!”
Guy sits back on his heels and regards her solemnly. “All right then,” he says finally. “You can cut yourself, but not like this, not like some cornered animal. You have to do it in front of me.”
“You . . . You want . . .” She stares at him openmouthed. She can’t imagine cutting herself in front of him. It is something so intimate that it makes their kiss seem like nothing more than shaking hands. She can’t do it. She just can’t. She just sits on the floor in front of him, the razor dangling uselessly from her hand.
But the pictures in her head won’t stop, and there is only one way she knows of ending them.
Willow doesn’t flinch as she presses the blade into her flesh. She stares at Guy, aware that although she is fully clothed, she is completely bare before him. It hurts. It hurts badly, and within seconds the pain is swirling through her like an opiate, completely crowding out everything else.
“Oh my God. Oh my God!” Now Guy is the one who is clapping a hand over his mouth. “Stop it! I can’t watch!” He grabs the razor and flings it across the room, grabs her arm and stares at the blood, grabs herand crushes her close.
Willow is so close that once again she’s sitting in his lap. She’s so close that they might as well be sharing the same breath.
“You won’t let yourself feel anything but pain?” He holds her more tightly than she would have thought possible.
Willow leans back against his chest. Now that the razor has done its work, it’s not so overwhelming to be there with him. She watches through half-closed lids as he wipes the blood on her arm with his shirttail. Now that she’s numbed herself, she’d like nothing more than to stay there with him, like this, forever.
Instead she does the next best thing. She stays there, like that, long after the lights flicker out and leave them in the darkness. She stays there long past the time that she should go home. She just stays there, like that, for as long as she possibly can.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Willow was sure that she had perfected the technique of pretending to pay attention in class when her thoughts were completely elsewhere. She knew how to make it look like she was industriously taking notes when she was doing nothing more than scribbling, she knew how to make it look like she was following along in the text even when her book was open to the wrong page, and she knew how to nod along at key moments to make it look like she was listening.
But somehow those dubious skills seem to have deserted her. Because today, Willow knows that it’s all too obvious to anyone who cares to look, that although she may physically be in French class, her mind is far from present.
She can’t stop thinking about what happened in the stacks. She can’t stop thinking about what happened with David the night before that, and she can’t stop wondering how she will behave, how she shouldbehave the next time that she sees either Guy or her brother.
At least she’d been given a small reprieve with David. When she’d finally gone home the night before, dreading the confrontation that she was sure would take place, Cathy had reminded her that David had gone to yet another conference, and wasn’t due back until much later today. As for Cathy, she hadn’t said much of anything to her about the whole mess. She’d already expressed her feelings in her note, and Willow was grateful that she clearly didn’t see the need to discuss it any further.
Willow is sure that when she sees David again, things will be very uncomfortable, but she’s nowhere near as sure of what seeing Guy will be like. There’s no reason that things shouldn’t be fine, better than fine, actually . . . except for the fact that she herself is far from fine.
Willow closes her eyes as unbidden images of their afternoon wash over her. It is impossible to think of their day together with unmixed emotions: It was wonderful to talk to him. She should never have talked to him about how she became a cutter. It was wonderful to kiss him. It was terrifyingto kiss him. It was incredibly moving to hear about his hopes and fears. She’s not strong enough to take on someone else’s pain.
Things were simple before she met him. There was the accident, and there was the razor. Life revolved around both of them. Now things are far from simple.
She sighs deeply, miserably aware that the girl next to her is looking at her strangely.
Maybe she just needs a little time to sort things out. Who’s to say that she’s going to see him today anyway? This is her last period, he may or may not be outside afterward, he’s never called her or anything, she’s the one . . .
Willow starts to laugh. Not really loudly, but enough for the same girl to give her another look.
This time it doesn’t bother her, though. It is absurd to her that after everything that’s happened, all she can think about is Will he call or should I call him first?It’s the sort of thing that she and Markie used to spend hours obsessing over. For a second she feels just like a regular girl again.
Class ends and she leaves the room with everyone else. She looks over her shoulder as she walks down the hall, both relieved and disappointed that he doesn’t seem to be around.
Well, you wanted some time alone to think about things, didn’t you?
There are plenty of students milling around on the pavement outside school, but again, no Guy. Willow does see Laurie and Chloe, however, and she walks over to them.
“So, whaddya think?” Laurie smiles at Willow as she pivots on one heel. Willow is confused for a moment until she realizes that Laurie is asking about her new shoes.
“Oh, they’re absolutely fabulous!” Willow says in admiration. “And I really love the color.”
“Aren’t they amazing? I couldn’t believe that they had a pair left in my size. They’re comfortable too.”
“You should have come with us,” Chloe joins in. “They had a lot of great things on sale. I got two pairs, but I’m not wearing either of them today,” she adds as Willow glances over at her feet.
“What did you get?”
“The same ones as Laurie, only I promised not to wear mine until next year when we’re at different schools.” Chloe makes a rueful face. “And then a pair that are way too fancy to wear to school, but they’re really great. Black. Superhigh. Super strappy.”
“We’re headed to the park right now,” Laurie says. “No money left to do anything else. You want to hang out with us today?”
“Sure,” Willow responds after a few seconds. This is probably exactly what she needs. No scenes with her brother, no rehearsing those scenes beforehand, no wondering about Guy and how things are going to proceed with him, just hanging out in the park and talking about nothing more emotionally demanding than shoes. Perfect.
“So, did you ever get that internship you were interviewing for?” Willow asks Laurie as they cross the street and start walking toward the park.
“Haven’t you figured out by now that it’s dangerous to ask her questions about stuff like that?” Chloe says, kicking a stone out of her path.
Willow looks at Chloe with a question in her eyes, which quickly turns to a shared grin as Laurie launches into a diatribe regarding the pros and cons of working for a recommendation versus working for cash.
“I mean, it would look so good if I had that kind of experience.” Laurie chews on her lower lip fretfully. “But I’d love to have some money right now. Especially now, since I spent practically everything I had the other day. The thing is, though, I don’t even know if I’ve gotten the internship. I’m supposed to hear this week—”
“What do you think of Andy?” Chloe interrupts suddenly.
“Who, me?” Willow asks.
“Yeah, well, I already know what Laurie thinks.”
“How is Willow is supposed to know?” Laurie protests. “She’s barely exchanged two words with him!”
“True,” Chloe concedes. “Great arms, though, huh? Rowing is the best for arms, it really develops them.”
“It sure does.” Willow doesn’t remember Andy’s arms at all, but she has to agree with Chloe. Rowing really does give people amazing arms. She turns her head away, aware that not everyone finds blushing sweet. “Are you . . . interested in him?” Willow asks after a moment.
“Let’s put it this way.” Chloe sighs. “He’s the only one who’s interested in me right now.”
“Maybe you should give him more of a chance,” Laurie interjects. “After all, we hardly know him any better than Willow does.”
“He’s not new, is he?” Willow frowns. “I mean, how come you guys don’t know him that well?”
“No, he’s not new or anything like that,” Chloe says as they enter the park. “We just never really spent any time with him before.”
“He used to go out with the most horrible girl,” Laurie adds as they all sit down on the grass. “Elizabeth something or other. She left last year, though.” She takes off her new shoes and starts rubbing her feet. “I shouldn’t have worn these two days in a row.”
“Yeah, it’s sort of like a worrisome sign that he’s interested in me after her.” Chloe represses a shudder. “I mean, am I like Elizabeth in any way?” She looks at Laurie.
“Yeah, just like her, that’s why we’ve been best friends for three years now. God, these blisters are killing me.”
“Weren’t you just saying how comfortable they were?” Chloe raises an eyebrow.
“Comfortable for heels.”
“I have some Band-Aids,” Willow offers. She starts rooting around in her bag for the box that Guy bought her.
“You’re so well prepared,” Chloe observes.
“What do you mean?” Willow asks warily. She tosses the Band-Aids over to Laurie.
“I don’t know.” Chloe shrugs. “You just seem to have stuff that people need, like when we were here with Andy and you had those handy wipey things.”
“Oh.” Willow nods. She wonders if Chloe notices that it’s a rather odd assortment of things that she carries around with her, far more unusual than the nail polish and other paraphernalia that Chloe obviously packs. She feels exposed, guilty even, like a heroin addict who’s been caught with her works.
“Anyway, getting back to Andy—Ouch!” Laurie exclaims as she pops a particularly nasty-looking blister. “Don’t make up your mind about him yet, who knows, he may turn out to be okay. I’m sure that when Adrian shows up, he’ll be tagging along and—”
“Adrian is showing up?” Willow blurts out. She doesn’t know why that surprises her. It makes total sense, obviously he and Laurie are together but . . .
“Yeah, he had to do some stuff after school, so he said he’d meet us here.” Laurie tosses the Band-Aids back to Willow.
“Oh.” Willow wonders if Guy will be along for the ride too.
“I’m pretty sure that Guy will be coming with them,” Laurie says, as if she can read Willow’s mind. “Because I know that he was going with Adrian on whatever errand it was he had to do.”
“Whoever shows up, I hope that they brings some Diet Cokes.” Chloe yawns.
“That should be good though, right?” Laurie looks at Willow. “I mean, and don’t give me a hard time, Chloe,” she says as the other girl starts to speak. “You do like him, right? I didn’t mean to bother you the other day, but, c’mon, tell us.”
“Yes,” Willow says. “I like him.” Privately she thinks how bland and pallid the word likeis as a way to describe her feelings. But as much as she might feel for him, she hopes that he won’t show up. She was expecting some time alone to sort things out, she wasn’t counting on their first meeting after the stacks being in mixed company.
“Now he’ssomeone to have interested in you.” Chloe leans forward, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, don’t worry.” She touches Willow’s arm. “I’ve known him for three years and nothing . . .” She shrugs eloquently.
“Well, it’s not really like what you’re thinking,” Willow says. “I mean, it’s just—”
“Speak of the devil,” Laurie interrupts, looking over Willow’s shoulder.
“And no Diet Cokes.” Chloe groans. “Maybe I can get Andy to go find one of those hot dog carts. There’s usually a couple in the park, somewhere. It shouldn’t take him too long.”
Willow turns to watch the three of them approach.
Her hands tremble a little and she drops the box of Band-Aids in the grass. She curses under her breath, annoyed at herself for being so flustered. Well, at least now she doesn’t have to wonder how she’ll feel when she sees Guy.
“Ah, that brief blissful time when you can get them to do your bidding.” Laurie laughs.
“Right, like finding me a Diet Coke compares to the stuff that Adrian does for you.”
“Sssh!” Laurie elbows Chloe in the ribs. “He thinks everyone is that way. Please,it took me monthsto train him, don’t go giving him any ideas.” She stops talking as they come within hearing distance.
“Do something for me,” Chloe says as Andy drops his backpack down next to her.
“Sure,” he says easily.
Willow watches Adrian give Laurie a kiss. She feels rather than sees Guy sit down across from her. She shoves the Band-Aids back into her bag. There should be nothing awkward about this. He’s someone she really likes, and unless she’s completely mistaken, he likes her too, so what’s the big deal? There’s nothing so unusual about that.
Except everything about their time together has been unusual.
“Get me a Diet Coke,” Chloe begs. “No, two Diet Cokes, please?”
“Hi,” Guy says to Willow. He smiles at her. Not the same way that he’s smiled at her when they’ve been alone. There’s nothing particularly intimate about it, but it is genuine.
Willow looks at him. Okay, so hedoesn’t feel uncomfortable. Shewon’t feel uncomfortable either.
“Hey, get me a Sprite while you’re at it.” Laurie fishes in her pocket for some change.
“Hell—” Willow starts to say.
“Anyone else want anything?” Andy interrupts as he moves between her and Guy. He not only cuts her off verbally, but physically as well. “What about you, Willow?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing for me.” Willow knows that he’s just trying to be nice, but still, she finds him irritating. Did he have to get in the way like that?
“Okay, be back in a second.”
Now Willow has her chance to smile at Guy, but he’s too busy looking in his backpack for something to even notice. As he shifts things around, Willow can see the blue leather corner of The Tempeststuck in there among his other books. The sight of it makes her feel better. He wouldn’t really be carrying it around unless it meant something to him, would he? Unless shemeant something to him?
He looks up suddenly, their eyes meet, and she can’t help it, she starts to blush. Willow glances away for a second, embarrassed, but then turns to him, determined to get over her awkwardness and to finally say hello. Only, as she looks at him, it is impossible not to think about everything that happened. The memory of what it was like to kiss him washes over her, blotting out the here and now. His features become fragmented, images of their time in the stacks are suddenly superimposed over his face.
Willow’s blush deepens as she remembers grabbing his hands, forcefully grabbingthem and placing them on her breasts. And then, as if that weren’t bad enough, she remembers starting to cut in front of him. She can’t think about these things right now—it would be one thing if they were alone together, but surrounded by everyone else? Willow drops her head in her hands for a second, as if by covering her eyes, she can blot out the pictures.
“Willow!” Laurie sounds alarmed. “Are you okay?”
“
Oh.” She jerks her head up.
This just isn’t working.
“I have a headache, I get the most terrible migraines,” she stammers. She avoids looking at Guy, avoids looking at any of them.
“And you don’t have any aspirin in that bag of yours?” Chloe asks.
“No, well, the thing is, it’s more that I just have so much work . . . I should get going.” Willow shakes her head regretfully. “I’ll see you all later, okay?” She gets her things together and stands up. Slowly, calmly, as if she really does wish that she could stay there with them.
Willow turns and walks out of the park, resisting the urge to run.
Well, that went well, huh?
If she was embarrassed and uncomfortable before, there simply aren’t words to describe how she feels now. She briefly considers ramming her head into the stone wall that borders the park. It would make a novel change from cutting anyway.
The thing to do now is go home, forget the last twenty minutes, erase it. Get home and . . .
She wonders if Guy will follow her, or if he’s had more than enough already.
Well, it’s not like he hasn’t already picked up on the fact that I’m a little different. . . .
If he does follow her, what will shedo? Maybe her first instincts were right, maybe she has room for only one relationship.
Too bad that relationship just happens to be with a sharp piece of metal.
Don’t think about it! Figure it out later! Get home! Open your French book! Get to work on your paper!
Willow can’t stop herself from reliving the incident throughout the entire walk home. She goes back and forth between convincing herself that nothing so very dreadful happened and being sure that she’s completely ruined everything.
Ruined what anyway?
Do I even have anything to ruin?
She’s looking forward to sitting at her desk. Maybe getting to work will prove to be the distraction that she needs. But unfortunately, as she unlocks the door she’s confronted by the sounds of Isabelle, screaming as if her lungs are fit to burst. Cathy is holding her while she paces back and forth on the phone. She looks completely overwhelmed. Willow drops her keys on the hall table and goes into the kitchen.