Brightly Burning Bridges by Ivy Wild
Past
I’d waitedthe better part of two hours for Skyler to finish teaching me the useless skill of how to use an integral to calculate the area under a curve until I could ask her today’s question. I’d kept them relatively benign at first. I wanted her comfortable. I wanted her feeling like we’d developed a routine before I delved a little deeper.
Because I wanted to delve deeper.
I wanted to know what made this girl tick.
I hadn’t lied when I told her she was a beautiful contradiction.
She hated being noticed but all she wanted in the world was to be seen.
She had the sunniest disposition and a bleak outlook on life.
She was cold and distant while somehow being warm and caring.
She frustrated and intrigued me all at the same time and I still couldn’t tell if I liked her, hated her or just wanted to fuck her out of my system.
So I bided my time as I tried to figure her out. I’d learned boring facts about her like her favorite color was green, her favorite time of day was the golden hour before the sun set and that she was a crazy environmentalist that cared a shit ton about animals and trees, especially weeping willows because apparently those were her favorites. She never ceased to shock me, though. Sometimes even the simplest of questions gave me glimpses of just who she was, deep down.
Like when I’d asked her why she didn’t eat meat, she gave me an answer that would have brought tears to even the staunchest of protein fanatics.
“It was back when mom and I were living in upper Maryland. She had an old pickup at the time and we were running a few errands. We were on the highway and it was late. Those rural roads don’t have street lamps like they do around here. It was dark and a deer dashed out onto the road in front of us.
“It made it past us fine, but when it made it to the median, there were cars on the other side and it turned and ran back. Someone behind us hit its flank and I saw it hobble off.”
She stopped to shake her head, looking down at the floor sadly.
“I’ll never forget what I saw that night. It was so close to me, I could see its eyes clearly as it ran in front of the truck. It was afraid, Silas. Afraid for its life. Fear, panic, dread, every so-called human emotion, I saw it in its eyes that night. I cried when I watched it get hit. Did it live? Did it hurt? Did it have a family?”
She sighed heavily, wiping away a bit of moisture in her eyes.
“It made me realize that my life isn’t more or less important than any other life. We all have souls and we’re all equal. I could never live with myself knowing I’d caused another creature that pain, especially for something as trivial as dinner.”
I had a feeling I was the only one she’d ever shared that story with and I fucking drank that shit down. I wanted all of her firsts—all of them.
And today, I wanted even more from her.
And I wanted to see if she would give it to me.
“I guess that’s it for today,” she said in that small voice of hers as she closed the calculus book. “How do you feel about Monday’s test?”
“Fine,” I said nonchalantly. I made my way over to the sitting area and groaned as I stretched out on the couch. She knew the pattern by now. We finished studying, I laid down and hit her with a question as she curled in on herself on the opposite sofa, trying to take up as little room in the universe as possible.
It was a fool’s errand. Her attitude was the size of a star and twice as hot. It just needed the right prodding to really get going.
She looked at me apprehensively and I fixed her with my go-to smile.
“Don’t do that,” she said, before I could ask my question.
“Do what?” I asked with furrowed brows.
“That fake smile thing you do with everyone else. Don’t do it with me. I hate it.”
“What fake smile.”
“That fake smile,” she said waving her hands in my face.
“You hate my smile?” I asked.
“No,” she said bitingly. “I don’t hate your smile. I hate your fake smile. The one you plaster on to convince the world you’re happy.”
“Oo, when did you become a therapist?” I mocked. “Can you show me those ink pictures next? Spoiler, they’re all vaginas.”
“Silas!” she huffed.
“Fine. Vulvas. They’re all vulvas.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So was I,” I muttered. “Those pictures always give me a semi.”
“You’re impossible,” she sighed with a shake of her head.
I turned onto my side and tucked my arm beneath my head. “You know when I don’t smile?”
She gave me a look that told me she knew I was going to say something dirty. I guess she knew me by now.
“I don’t smile when I—”
“When you fuck, right? That’s what you’re going to say, hm?” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up into the air.
I widened my eyes in feigned shock. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” I teased. “No—I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say I don’t smile when I shower. And if you’d like proof, you’re more than welcome to join me. But I’m glad to know where your mind is. Do the ink pictures look like cocks to you?”
The blush that rose up on her pale skin was vibrant and I laughed at how uncomfortable she was.
“Just, nevermind,” she sighed in defeat. “Just ask me your question for the day.”
I turned to look at her and did her the favor of dropping my smile. “Where is your father?”
Her pale lavender eyes widened as she looked at me. I wondered if she’d refuse to answer, but after several silent moments, she sighed. “I don’t know. It’s always just been me and my mom.” She shrugged. “She doesn’t talk much about him. I think he ran out on her when I was born.” I could tell this was a difficult subject for her to talk about. I could also tell that she blamed herself for her father’s disappearance, if not completely, at least a little.
“What a dick,” I replied, trying and failing to lighten the mood. I don’t know why I thought her answer wouldn’t be sad. Maybe I knew it would be and I just wanted someone else to feel the pain I felt about my own parents.
“Yeah,” she replied slowly. “You’re lucky to have both parents in your life, Silas. I know they seem to travel a lot, but at least you’ve got both of them.”
I shook my head. I hated talking about my parents, but for some reason, I really wanted to be honest with Sky about them. “My father’s a shitbag and my mother is dying. If that’s luck, then I hope I never win the lottery.”
I tried not to meet her gaze, but she had other ideas. She ventured over to my side of the sofa and pushed my legs aside, making room for herself. “Tell me about your mother,” she said quietly.
“She grew up in Italy and came over to the States when she married my father. Still don’t understand how that happened exactly.” Skyler listened quietly as I poured my soul out to her about my mother. “She used to have bright blonde hair and brown eyes like me. And she’s still got her accent. Confuses the words kitchen with chicken something fierce, but fuck if I don’t love her more for it.”
Her hand was on mine now. I hadn’t even realized when that had happened, but I didn’t make a move to change it. The small bit of warmth felt nice.
“She sounds lovely,” Skyler said quietly.
I nodded. “She is.”
“Why is she sick?” she ventured to ask.
“She’s got Huntington’s disease,” I explained. “It’s a genetic disorder that basically melts your brain. She has these episodes right now where she completely forgets where she is, who she is, and how to do things. They’re getting more and more frequent and she’s losing motor control, so they checked her into the hospital so they can monitor her.” I pursed my lips in disgust. “Also, so my father doesn’t have to be bothered with her when he’s home for the two days out of every month he’s not god-only-knows-where on business.”
“Can you visit her?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I try and go every day. I usually leave once we finish up.”
“Oh,” she said, pulling her hand back and stumbling to her feet. “Silas, I’m so sorry. You should go.”
I sat up and the next words tumbled out of my mouth. “Would you come with me?”
“Me?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think she’d really like you. She doesn’t think I run with a good crowd.”
“She’s right about that,” Skyler said with a small laugh.
“Maybe if I could convince her we were friends, she’d be a little less worried.”
“You shouldn’t lie to your mother, Silas,” she replied.
“Who said I’d be lying? Come on, let’s go,” I said, not giving her a chance to respond.
“She’s not havingthe best day today, Silas,” the nurse explained as we tried to sign in as visitors. “Maybe you should come back tomorrow?”
I shook my head. The woman behind the counter couldn’t understand. Good days, bad days, it didn’t matter. I had a limited number of days left with my mother, period. I couldn’t afford to be choosey. “It’s fine,” was all I said.
The nurse heaved a heavy sigh before nodding her head. “Okay. Go on back.”
Sky and I walked through the fluorescent hallways to my mother’s room. As I pressed open the door, I could hear her mumbling from her bed in Italian. The nurse had been right, today was a bad day.
“Ciao, mama,” I said, trying to ease her into the present gently. “It’s me, Silas.” I approached her and Skyler stayed a bit behind me. I beckoned for her to come closer. “I brought a friend with me.”
My mother’s tired brown eyes looked at us both and she just shook her head in confusion. I could see it on her face, she didn’t know who I was and my heart cracked a little bit more.
“Mi dispiace, ma tu chi sei?”
Skyler looked at me for translation. “She’s apologizing and asking who we are,” I explained.
I’d learned the hard way not to tell her I was her son when she was having a memory lapse. It only confused and upset her more.
“It’s your brother, Giovanni,” I replied, plastering a smile on my face. “And you remember your friend, Lucia,” I said, gesturing to Skyler. My mother gripped my fingers tight and pressed a kiss to my hand, repeating her brother’s name a few times before falling asleep.
It’d been a long time since my mother had a day this bad and my throat felt like it’d been glued shut. I tried to swallow but everything in my stomach felt like it wanted to violently expel itself. I stood there frozen, looking at the shell of a woman who’d given birth to me, who had loved me, who had been the only person who’d ever been truly there for me, become someone I didn’t recognize.
Tears leaked down my face and I flinched as a warm hand wrapped around mine. I looked down to see who it was connected to and Skyler was giving me a sympathetic look. It wasn’t pitying or sad. It was somehow knowing. “Come on. We should let her rest,” she said, tugging me gently away from my mother’s bedside.
I nodded and leaned down to press a soft kiss to my mother’s forehead and whispered “Il mio cuore é solo tuo,” before we made our way out of the hospital.
Skyler didn’t let go of my hand the entire time.
We rodein silence and it gave my mind plenty of time to wallow in my mother’s condition. I knew I was being a dick, but it was the best defense I had against feeling the overwhelming fear and sadness that were sitting in the pit of my stomach. The longer we didn’t speak, the more embarrassed I became about the entire situation. I suddenly hated the fact that Skyler had seen my mother and me in such a vulnerable place.
What if she tried to exploit it?
What if she told people about it at school?
My father didn’t want anyone knowing that my mother was sick.
“Turn right up here,” Skyler said, pointing to the road that led to our school.
“Why?”
“I want to show you something,” she replied, not giving anything away.
“I’m really not interested in going to the school right now, Skyler,” I bit back.
“We’re not going to the school,” she said, ignoring my sour attitude. “Promise.”
I groaned dramatically. “Fine.” I made the turn and she directed me to the furthest parking lot in the back. I followed her begrudgingly as she walked behind the school and into the line of trees that served as a buffer. “Where are we going?” I complained.
“I found this place during a lunch break,” she explained. “I thought you might like it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Hard pass.” It was a Friday evening and at the moment, the only thing I wanted to do was go back to my house and throw the loudest party possible.
“Please?” Her eyes were nothing but kind and I suddenly hated them.
I hated that I was going to drive her back to a home with a mother who remembered who she was. I hated that she had someone in the world that loved her and wasn’t slated to die in the next three to six months. I hated that she played the part of the victim, just because she couldn’t get a fucking sun tan.
“You know what? No. Get in the car or get left behind,” I snapped and turned on my heel to walk back to my BMW. I buckled my seatbelt and she just stood there, staring at me like I’d let her down.
I hated it.
I hated the way she looked at me.
I hated the world and everyone in it.
But at the moment, I especially hated her.
I switched my phone on and texted Garrett. “Party at my place. ASAP.”
His response pinged back almost immediately. “Bout fucking time.”
I looked up and she still hadn’t moved. I turned the car on and drove off, leaving her standing there, alone. Being alone was my everyday reality and for some reason, I wanted her to feel it.
The cold seepedup from the pavement, through the thin soles of my worn Sketchers until it found its way into my cold center, freezing me from the outside in just a little bit more. I watched as the white BMW made its way out of the school parking lot, leaving me behind in a wake of exhaust and disbelief.
I should never have gone to that first party.
I should never have agreed to this arrangement.
And I should never have opened myself up to Silas—not even a little bit.
I knew it the moment I’d looked into those deep brown eyes of his. He was the physical embodiment of my microwave dinners. Devoid of nourishment with edges that burned my tongue and frozen insides. His smile hid heartbreak and bad news all wrapped up into one.
I’d let him dig at my insides because he had me convinced he would find my pearl. I was the fool because all it’d done was left me a mess.
I wiped cold tears off my face that I hadn’t realized I’d cried and began my long walk back to our neighborhood. Maybe he thought I’d be able to call for a ride. Rich people always seemed to think everyone was as privileged as them. But I didn’t own a cell phone. Even if I did, I’d left my bag at his house because he said we’d be going back.
It was starting to get dark and the old denim jacket I had on offered little in the way of warmth or comfort. I walked in silence, my mind as numb as the rest of me.
As I turned the corner for our neighborhood, I tried to imagine what I might say to him when I went to retrieve my bag. I couldn’t ask my mother to knock on his door for me, she’d start asking all sorts of questions. Elyse would never stoop to doing me a favor and the realization that I had not one friend I could call upon stung, but I was used to that feeling by now. As I walked towards his house, I knew I’d just have to do this last errand myself.
And I promised myself that it was going to be the last thing I did that involved Silas Jenkins. A part of me understood why he was behaving this way, but the other part, the part that was shivering with borderline hypothermia just didn’t care. Life was all about disappointment. I’d learned that from a young age when my father decided to run out on my mother because I didn’t “look right.” I knew it wasn’t exactly the same, but in a way it was. I’d lost the opportunity to even know my father. At least Silas got some time with his mother in this life.
The closer I got to Silas’ mansion, the louder and louder the music got, until it was pressing against my ears so hard not even my swirling emotions were able to keep it out. I looked up at the overdone borderline palace and my upper lip curled in disgust. It was just like the first party, but worse—far worse.
People I vaguely recognized from my new school were flowing in and out of the house. A couple was making out on the steps as people tried to squeeze by them. Another group of girls sported red Solo cups and no tops as they giggled wildly while two guys chased after them.
I sucked in a deep breath and immediately regretted it because the smell of marijuana and booze filled my nostrils, making me want to puke. How Silas got away with throwing these things I couldn’t quite understand. It was obvious his father was never home, but the fact that no one ever bothered to call the cops on the blatant underaged drinking, smoking and God-knows-what-else was beyond me.
I squared my shoulders and steeled my nerves and pushed my way past the PDA couple and into the house. “Ride It” by Ciara & Ludacris was blasting so loud as people grinded against one another, sloshing beer and spiked juice all over the expensive floors and furniture. I looked around, trying to see if I could spot Silas, but of course he wasn’t downstairs with the rest of the crowd.
He was too fucking good for that.
He had to pretend that he was above it all.
But really?
He was so far beneath it. He couldn’t understand that his perspective had flipped at some point in his life and he saw the world through an inverted lens.
And maybe three hours ago I thought I could be the one to help him flip it back but I was so past that now.
I saw Elyse out of the corner of my eye, trying to chat up some guy I thought might be on the football team. She made a face as I made my way over to her.
“What do you want?” she snipped at me, her eyes watching the guy she’d been talking to move towards the makeshift dance floor.
“I need to see Silas,” I said. “Have you seen him?”
“Why?” she asked, giving me an odd look before turning back to search out her hookup.
“Have you seen him?” I repeated, my attitude getting the better of me.
“No,” she replied. “But he’s usually upstairs.”
“Thanks,” I said as she muttered something about it being my funeral.
I ducked under the rope that blocked off the stairs, just like I had done a few weeks ago and tried to make my way to the second floor without anyone noticing. This evening felt like a repeat of that first night and somehow I had a feeling it was going to be ten times worse.
My suspicions were confirmed when I heard a combination of moans and grunts coming from the east-side balcony. Silas’ mansion was divided into two wings, each of which had large concrete patios that stretched out on either side. His mother’s library was in the east wing, adjacent to one of the doorways that led to the balconies.
Silas had admitted to seeing me through the window when he was out on the balcony that first night and from the sounds of it, he was out there again this evening, but he wasn’t alone. I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care what he was doing and who he was doing it with. I was just here for my bag and that was it.
It was the biggest lie I’d ever told myself though and the weight of it crushed me as I walked past the entrance to the balcony to see Silas pushing a girl wearing a metallic gold dress against the brick facing of the house. His lips were on her throat and his fingers were plunged between her tanned legs, her tits on display as she threw her head of dark brown hair back, moaning his name.
That beautiful green snake called Envy wrapped its body around me and squeezed each and every drop of air I had out of my lungs. I was frozen to the spot, watching him finger fuck this chick to completion and I both hated him and wanted to be her all at the same time.
King barked upon seeing me, startling everyone except no-name chick into reality. Silas turned and our gazes met. The glue that had been holding my feet to the floor melted and I ran into the library as fast as I could.
My feet slid across the slippery tile but I managed to catch myself before I fell. I scrambled over to where my backpack was sitting, cursing the fact that I hadn’t packed up my books and tried to shove them roughly into my bag.
I needed out of this house.
I needed out of this neighborhood.
I needed out of this fucked up reality I’d found myself trapped in.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” a deep voice slurred from somewhere near the door. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“I’m going home, Silas,” I said, fighting back the tears that were threatening to run down my face as I tried to fit too many textbooks into my backpack.
“Like fuck you are,” he said, making his way toward me.
I stood to my full height and looked at him. My heart dropped at seeing him this way. “Silas, you’re drunk.” I could smell the marijuana coming off of him in waves. “And probably high. You should call it a night.”
I didn’t know why I was trying to give him advice. I should have told him to go fuck himself and be done with it.
“I’ll call it a night if you call it one with me,” he drawled, moving in closer to me.
“Get away from me, Silas,” I said, trying to feign confidence but he just laughed.
“You don’t want that, Sky. I saw the way you looked at me. The way you looked at her. You wanted that to be you, hm?”
I didn’t think his comment warranted a response. Either that or I was too choked up to say something back. I picked up my backpack and tried to lift it onto my shoulders, but even in his inebriated state he was quick. The bag tumbled to the floor as he pushed it away and I felt my back press into the wall behind me.
“Admit it, Sky. You. Want. Me.” He was so close to me now. His lips were ghosting against my neck and his hand was pressing against my hip.
I hated this.
I hated him.
I hated the way he made me feel.
And I hated the way he smelled like someone else’s perfume.
“I can smell her on you,” I seethed at him through grit teeth.
He pulled back, lifting his face so that his eyes were even with mine. His fingers moved up, making me shiver on their ascent before pinching my chin. I grimaced as I wondered whether it was the hand that had, minutes before, been knuckle deep in another woman’s cunt.
“You wish it were you, don’t you?” he drawled.
“No,” I bit back, but I was a fucking liar. Truth was, I wanted Silas. I wanted him bad. And I wanted him all to myself. I didn’t want to share him. Not with some bimbo. Not with anyone. I loved the way him and I had developed our study routine. I loved that out of everyone in his life, except for maybe his mother, I knew him the best.
He had hot edges and a frozen center, but at least I knew all the secrets he kept hidden there were for me and me alone. But I didn’t know how to say any of this. Worse than that, I didn’t know how to admit any of this. I hated and wanted him at the same time. He said I was a contradiction but that was only because he tore me in two.
“You lie like a rug and you’re faker than my smile,” he whispered against my ear.
He smelled like booze, marijuana and sweet pea body spray wrapped in his cologne.
I closed my eyes to this reality as he moved in closer to me. His lips brushed against mine and I didn’t fight it and he could sense that. The only people that knew us better than our mothers were each other. He knew I would have fought back if I didn’t want this.
He knew it and he abused it.
His lips moved forward, pressing against mine at the same time the tears I’d been fighting back spilled down my cheeks. The saltwater mixed in as I tried desperately not to kiss him back and lost.
I hadn’t realized at the time just how much I’d lost in that moment.
Not only had I lost my first kiss to a boy who definitely didn’t deserve it, but I’d lost a piece of myself to him too. His frozen chest pressed against mine, but there was no way I was going to be able to thaw his heart. No, instead a piece of mine attached to his and when he pulled away, he ripped it from me.
I didn’t say anything as he looked at me. I knew he was waiting for my reaction.
He was waiting for me to accept him.
To tell him I forgave him for his behavior.
To want him.
But I wasn’t going to give him any of that.
I was going to give him cold concrete under worn rubber.
I was going to give him a three mile walk home at dusk.
I was going to give him everything he gave to me and more.
I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, slid out from between where his arms caged me, grabbed my backpack and left him alone in the place we were together.
The tearsthat had started when he kissed me didn’t stop. They poured down my cheeks as I walked the last few steps back to my temporary home behind the Touper residence. The moment I opened the door my mother rushed over to me.
“Mia, what happened? Where have you been?”
As a senior, I was pretty independent by now, but my routine had been to be home by dinner. Considering it was well past nine, I could understand why my mother had been worried.
I just shook my head and let the rest of the tears fall down my cheeks. My mother pulled me in tight to her chest and I stood there, letting her warmth seep into me as the water from my eyes tried to wash away the last few hours.
She asked if I’d eaten and I shook my head, letting it fall to the table as she heated up a microwave dinner for me quickly. When it was finally ready, she brought it over and sat down next to me, looking at me with nothing but love and concern.
“Tell me about it?” she asked quietly.
“It was a boy, mom,” I said.
“That boy Silas who gives you rides sometimes?”
I nodded.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
I sighed as more tears dripped down my pale cheeks. “Just my heart.”
“Oh, sweet chica. I’ve never met a man who hasn’t had the ability to hurt a woman’s heart. It seems like they’re born with the trait.”
“He kissed me, mom,” I admitted to her, feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.
“Well, that’s not so bad, right?”
I shook my head. “I know it can’t be good.”
She patted my hand and pressed a finger to my chin, lifting my head up slightly. “You are as beautiful and bright as a clear blue sky, my love. Don’t ever give someone permission to darken your horizon.”
“Thanks mom,” I said, still feeling miserable. I took a bite of my lasagna. The center burned my tongue.
