Lie with Me

RAINEY

^2013^

~“Rainey! Ice cream’s here!”~

~I’d been holed up in my room all day, not playing with my toys, just staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my walls.~

~I was young, and I thought that maybe my dolls were the reason Greg did what he did. I was scared that if I kept playing with them, he’d keep hurting me.~

~My once beloved toys became objects of fear, and I started to destroy my dolls, cutting them up with scissors.~

~But my love for ice cream was still strong, and my mom’s call was the only thing that could lure me out of my room.~

~My rubber slippers slapped against the wooden floor as I ran down the stairs, but the sight of who was in my living room stopped me in my tracks.~

~“Rain, your favorite uncle’s here.” My mom smiled as she came out of the kitchen. “And he brought you ice cream.”~

~Greg leaned over, and in that moment he looked like a monster, the kind I’d seen in cartoons and kids’ movies. The bad guy. “Hey, princess. Guess what I got you.”~

~I started to shake, and I backed up a few steps, my eyes wide with fear. My mom looked at me, puzzled, and Jeff tried to silence me with his eyes.~

~Greg made a sad face. “Aren’t you happy to see me? I’m hurt, Rainey.”~

~I hid behind my mom, who looked down at me, confused. “What’s wrong with you?”~

~“I don’t want to see him,” I whispered, clutching her shirt in my hands. “Make him go away.”~

~“Stop acting like a spoiled brat,” she scolded. “He bought you ice cream. Go say thank you. Have some manners, child.”~

~Tears filled my eyes, and my lips trembled. Seeing this, Jeff quickly reached out his arm. “Hey, don’t force her, babe. She’s probably not in the mood for ice cream.”~

~Greg smirked, standing up straight. “Come here, Rainey.”~

~“Go to him.” My mom grabbed my skinny arm, trying to push me towards him, but I wriggled out of her grip and ran back up the stairs.~

~She watched me run away, her head tilted to the side. “What on earth is wrong with her?”~

~Greg laughed. “She’s probably still mad.”~

~My mom narrowed her eyes, looking at Greg. “About what?”~

~Jeff glanced at him, and he shrugged. “Yesterday she said she wanted chocolate ice cream, and I got her mint chocolate chip instead. She cried all day.”~

~He chuckled, shaking his head. “Kids. They sure know how to hold a grudge.”~

~My mom knew something was off about that story.~

~She knew that mint chocolate chip was my favorite flavor—and still is—so there was no way I would have gotten mad if someone bought that for me.~

~But as usual, she chose to ignore it, to pretend it wasn’t suspicious, to pretend his words weren’t untrustworthy.~

~“Oh…well, she needs to learn to be grateful for what she gets. I need to go discipline her.” She started towards the stairs, and Jeff tried to stop her.~

~“Babe, just let her be. Kids her age are just trying to find themselves. She’s at that molding stage.”~

~“Which means I should instill some respect in her before she gets older and it’s too late.”~

~She rushed up the stairs and stormed into my room, where I was sitting on the floor with my knees pulled up to my chest. She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.~

~“What is wrong with you, child?”~

~“I don’t want Greg to come back here,” I said softly. “Please don’t let him come back here. I’m scared of him.”~

~“Why? Greg has always been nice to you. Why are you—?” She stopped when she saw the destroyed dolls, and her eyes widened in shock as she picked up a torn limb from the floor.~

~“Good heavens. Did you do this to your toys?”~

~Fresh tears filled my eyes. I was such a weak kid, so naive and delicate.~

~My mom pushed her hair back, her face red with anger. I could see the veins standing out in her neck.~

~“Rainey Slate, do you know how much money I spent on these damn toys? Do you?!”~

~I sniffled. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to play with them anymore.”~

~“Do you think you’re all grown up? You’re ten. Just ten! You’re a child. You’re becoming so ungrateful at such a young age!~

~“Greg got you ice cream and you didn’t even thank him. Now you’ve destroyed all the toys I gave you, saying you don’t want to play with them anymore. How old do you think you are?!”~

~I buried my face in my arm and started to cry, which only made her angrier. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she yanked me up off the floor.~

~“You won’t get any ice cream until you learn to appreciate what you have!” she yelled, pointing her finger in my face.~

~“You will learn to be more grateful for what others give to you! I will teach you a damn lesson!”~

***

^PRESENT DAY^

“Rainey…” Ansel waves his hand in front of my face, and I snap out of my thoughts, turning to look at him.

His expression softens as he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve been calling your name for a while now. You seemed lost.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “Thanks for bringing me up.”

He gives a nod, his hand reaching out to check my temperature. I shut my eyes, feeling the softness of his palm against my forehead.

His cheeks puff out, worry etched all over his face. When he looks at me like that, I can’t help but wonder if I’m on death’s doorstep or something.

“You’ve got a high fever. How long have you been feeling like this?”

I moisten my lips, letting out a heavy sigh. “Since I woke up this morning.”

My throat feels like a desert, and I’m pretty sure I look like a hot mess right now. My hair is a disaster, and I’m not even wearing a bra under my tank top.

With Ansel sitting just a foot away, his intense eyes taking in every little detail about me, I can’t shake off this feeling of insecurity.

“I’m going to try to bring your fever down, okay? Where can I find a towel?” he asks.

“In the bathroom,” I mumble, shutting my eyes. I feel freezing cold, to the point that I’m shivering, yet my forehead is slick with sweat.

Ansel rises and heads to the bathroom, then comes back in no time with a damp towel. He takes a seat on the chair beside my bed, leaning in close.

My eyes flutter open to meet his as he gently wipes my forehead.

He attempts a smile, but his eyes are filled with worry. “You’ll be okay soon. I won’t leave you. Have you eaten anything?”

My eyes drift shut again, and I take a deep breath. “No… I’m not hungry.”

“I’m going to get you some medicine from Crossview Pharmacy, but you’ll need to eat something before you can take it.

“I’ll make you some chicken soup when I get back. Promise me you’ll eat it.”

I sigh. “You really don’t have to, Ansel. You should go home.”

“I’m not leaving you, Rain,” he insists. “Does your mom have chicken and stuff like that?”

I shake my head. “She only has beer and ham. She only eats take-out.”

“Oh. I’ll leave this towel on your forehead. Don’t take it off, okay?”

He rises from his chair, and I lift my head to watch him. Even though I told him earlier that he could go, fear washes over me at the thought of him actually leaving.

“Wh-where are you going?”

My voice comes out sounding desperate, and Ansel halts in his tracks, turning his head to look at me. The lamp in the room makes his eyes sparkle as his lips curve into a smile.

“To the pharmacy.”

“Oh.” I lower my gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He chuckles lightly, his perfect dimples on display as he comes back to my side. “Did you think I was going to leave you?”

He pulls the duvet up to my chest, and I shake my head in denial. “No.” I look away, focusing on the mat by the bathroom door, but out of the corner of my eye, I can still see his warm smile.

“I’m not leaving you, Rain, so don’t worry. I’ll be right back, okay?”

I nod as he turns and leaves the room. Feeling content, I close my eyes and immediately drift off to sleep.

***

A few minutes later, the sound of the door slamming shut downstairs jolts me awake.

I hear footsteps on the staircase and instantly recognize them as Ansel’s. I could pick out his footsteps from a mile away. They’re always soft and purposeful.

He walks into the room carrying a clear bag of groceries. His dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows and unbuttoned, revealing his white tank top, which is soaked with sweat.

He takes a seat, flashing me a smile.

“I got some medicine. The pharmacist said these are the best for a fever.” The bag rustles as he pulls out a packet of pills and flips it over to read the instructions on the back.

“It says here…two capsules after a meal.”

He looks up at me, a smirk on his face. “So I guess you’ll have to eat something.”

My eyes land on the groceries he bought, and I press my lips together. “I’m sorry for all the trouble, Ansel. I’ll pay you back for those.”

He sighs, pushing his damp hair back. “No, you don’t need to pay me back, Rain. Doing this for you isn’t a bother for me. So please don’t think it is.”

I manage a weak smile. “Thank you.”

He nods, a half-smile on his face. “I’ll go make you some soup so you can take your medicine. I’ll be right back.” He rises from his chair and quickly leaves the room again.

Someone once said: stay close to what makes you happy. For me, that’s Ansel.

Whenever I’m with him, everything feels okay. And even though it’s not healthy to become too dependent on someone else, there are just some things you can’t control.

Before long, the delicious smell of Ansel’s chicken soup wafts over to my bed, and my stomach growls, despite my lack of appetite.

The weather has now turned into a pitch-black night with a light drizzle hitting the roof.

Unfortunately, the chilly weather isn’t helping my condition, but making it worse.

Goosebumps cover my skin as I try to warm up under the duvet. The door opens to reveal Ansel. He’s carefully carrying a tray with chicken soup and a glass of water.

The cold air seeping in through the small cracks in my window spreads the delicious scent all around my room.

I pray I can muster up the appetite to eat it. I don’t want to seem ungrateful after all his hard work.

I try to sit up while Ansel takes a seat, setting the tray on my lap. His gaze drops to my arm, and I self-consciously stare at him.

“What?”

“You’re covered in goosebumps.” He frowns. “You must be really cold. Do you want me to get you a sweater?”

I nod. “Thank you. It’s in my second drawer.”

He nods and stands up, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through it. After a moment, he turns to me, a puzzled look on his face.

“I don’t think I’m in the right drawer,” he says, a chuckle escaping his lips.

I frown, confused, until I remember that I’d rearranged my drawers last weekend. The realization turns my cheeks a bright shade of pink. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s the first drawer.”

I try to hide my embarrassment as I realize he’s just seen my entire collection of bras and panties. I subtly cover my face with my hand.

He opens the top drawer and comes back to me, my hoodie in his hand. “Glad to see you keep this safe.”

He grins, and I take the hoodie from him, my face still flushed. “Thank you.”

I pull it on, and Ansel sits back down. I reach for the spoon, my hand shaking slightly. I flex my fingers, trying to steady them.

“Do you want me to feed you?”

I glance at him, expecting a joke, but his face is serious, filled with concern. I clear my throat and shake my head. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

I scoop up some soup and taste it. It’s delicious, and I immediately go for another spoonful.

Ansel grins at me. “Like it?”

I nod, taking another bite, then another. Ansel is a surprisingly good cook. It’s hard to believe someone can be this perfect. He’s good at everything.

The soup is just right—not too spicy, not too thick or thin. It tastes like something you’d order at a restaurant.

Before I know it, the bowl is empty. Ansel looks at me in disbelief, his mouth hanging open as he tries to smile. It’s adorable.

“And you said you weren’t hungry,” he teases. “Good girl.”

For some reason, his words make my cheeks burn, and I look away from his admiring gaze, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.

He hands me a couple of pills and a glass of water. I take them, and he takes the glass back, removing the tray from my bed.

“The medication will start working soon, and you’ll feel a lot better.”

I smile at him. “Thank you.” Despite wearing Ansel’s hoodie, I’m still cold, my teeth chattering as I rub my arms.

He notices. “Is there a heater in here?” He looks around the room.

“No. My heater broke, and my mom hasn’t fixed it yet,” I tell him.

He nods, and I pull my legs up, trying to warm up. Chills are one of the worst parts of having a fever.

I pull the duvet up to my neck and close my eyes. I hate feeling like this.

The bed dips, and I open my eyes to see Ansel climbing in next to me. I swallow hard, looking at him nervously.

“I’m going to try to warm you up. I don’t want you getting sicker,” he explains, pulling off his shirt.

I watch him, my heart pounding as I take in his muscular arms.

“You don’t have to do that,” I stammer, my throat suddenly dry.

“I want you to get better, not worse,” he says, his brow furrowed with worry.

He pulls off his tank top, revealing his toned abs. I blush and look away.

“Ansel…what are you—?”

“I read somewhere that the best way to warm someone up is skin-to-skin contact.”

I can’t look at him. My face is hot, and another look at his bare chest might set the room on fire.

“One person has to be shirtless, so the other can absorb their body heat,” he explains.

“I’m really fine, Ansel.” My voice is shaky, and I close my eyes, mentally scolding myself.

“You’re not fine. I can tell.”

I turn to look at him, avoiding his chest. “But won’t you be cold?”

“Not at all. We’ll be under the duvet.”

I bite my lip nervously, and he watches me. “Will it make you uncomfortable?”

I shake my head quickly. “No, no…it won’t.” I’ve never been the type to get flustered easily. I don’t know why I’m acting so shy. “What do we do?”

He lies down and turns to face me. “Lie down and turn your back to me,” he instructs gently.

I do as he says, my heart pounding. With my back to him and my front facing the window, I close my eyes, waiting for his next move.

I feel the bed shift as he moves closer. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me against his bare chest.

He holds me from behind, my back against his chest, my legs between his. He buries his face in my neck, and I catch my breath as I feel his lips against my skin.

“Do you feel warmer now?”

I blink, forgetting how to answer.

“Rain?”

I nod. It’s all I can do. The position is nerve-wracking, and I can’t find my voice.

He smells clean and fresh, despite his long day at school. His arms are warm and comforting. He pulls the duvet over us, holding me tighter.

“Are you cold?” I whisper.

He nuzzles his head against my neck, shaking it gently. “No. You’re warm.”

My cheeks flush even more, and he lifts his head to nestle it in my hair. “Sleep well. I’m not going anywhere.”

A soft smile graces my lips at his words, my eyes closing in pure contentment.

I’ve never known what heaven feels like. But this? This has to be pretty damn close.