Read Online Schasm (Schasm Series) by Shari J. Ryan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shari J. Ryan
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me. I just want to jump into his arms and pretend like everything is real, regardless of my missing memory. All I can say is, “Alex.” I have nothing to follow it.
His face becomes serious. No more beautiful smile. “No, I haven’t been watching you like that .” He sounds offended. “It’s not like I was searching for you or seeking you out. You and I just seem to end up in the same places. That’s all.”
Now I’m more curious. “Do you always know where I’m drifting to?”
“Not always, no.” He sees my disbelief. “Look, I didn’t choose this way of life. It was a gift to me as much as it was to you.”
Suddenly, I feel cheated hearing him describe our similar conditions as a gift. I’ve always considered mine a curse. Why is he here surfing the waves, living full-time in my heaven, when I keep having to return to that cold, miserable house being held captive by my tyrannical mother? It doesn’t seem fair.
“My situation has brought me more misery and pain than happiness,” I explain. “I’m sorry if I can’t understand where you’re coming from.” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice.
He reaches his hand out and laces his fingers through mine while pulling me up to my feet. His eyes lose their anger. “I’m very sorry that your life turned out like that.” His words are soft but intense. “Do you know how much time you have here today?” he asks.
“I’m not sure. My mother assumes I’ve gone to sleep for the night, though. I would guess I have enough time to learn more about you… about us.”
I need to know more about him, and I want to believe him, but I need more information.
“I don’t know if we have that much time. My autobiography is pretty intense, and it might serve our time better another night.” He looks uneasy now.
I feel like I have some unwarranted anger building up within me. I can’t figure out why. Is it because he seems to know more about my life than I do? Or because he won’t tell me anything about himself? I feel as if he’s taunting me with a truth that he knows I can’t easily believe.
I wrap my hand around his arm, feeling the muscles bulge beneath his skin. The feeling causes me to quiver, my voice to lower and sound somewhat out of breath. “Why won’t you tell me anything? I’m not sure I believe a word of what you’re saying, and if you’re unwilling to tell me more, well…”
“Look Chloe,” he huffs. “I’m not a creep. I have no way of proving that to you, but it’s true. You and I were friends once, but I lost you, and you lost me. Now that we’ve found each other again, I would like to have that friendship back.” He pulls his arm out of my grip. “But if you want to leave, I’ll understand.” Pain pings in my chest when he says it. Why do I even care this much? I just met him.
I want to stop talking. I want to stop pushing. But I need more and he won’t give it to me. “If you can’t tell me anything else, I don’t think I can stay.”
“Wait…what?”
“I guess I’ll just see you around sometime. Or you’ll see me around, rather, since that seems to be how it happens.”
He jerks his head in my direction. “Wait," he says insistently. "I didn’t mean I wanted you to leave.”
“And why would I stay?”
He doesn’t answer. He just stares into the horizon. “Will you just keep walking with me for a few more minutes?” His plea makes my chest ache. My intension wasn't to hurt him, and that's how he looks right now.
“Alex, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” And honestly, I don’t at this point.
A football rolls into my ankle, breaking up the intensity of this moment. I find a little boy running toward us, smiling. “My ball,” he calls over. Alex grabs the ball with one hand, winks at the kid and passes it to him. I watch all of his muscles tense as his arm swings. My stomach tingles with a good twinge. I try to clear my mind of the look of him…the smell of him. The feel of him.
I
His face becomes serious. No more beautiful smile. “No, I haven’t been watching you like that .” He sounds offended. “It’s not like I was searching for you or seeking you out. You and I just seem to end up in the same places. That’s all.”
Now I’m more curious. “Do you always know where I’m drifting to?”
“Not always, no.” He sees my disbelief. “Look, I didn’t choose this way of life. It was a gift to me as much as it was to you.”
Suddenly, I feel cheated hearing him describe our similar conditions as a gift. I’ve always considered mine a curse. Why is he here surfing the waves, living full-time in my heaven, when I keep having to return to that cold, miserable house being held captive by my tyrannical mother? It doesn’t seem fair.
“My situation has brought me more misery and pain than happiness,” I explain. “I’m sorry if I can’t understand where you’re coming from.” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice.
He reaches his hand out and laces his fingers through mine while pulling me up to my feet. His eyes lose their anger. “I’m very sorry that your life turned out like that.” His words are soft but intense. “Do you know how much time you have here today?” he asks.
“I’m not sure. My mother assumes I’ve gone to sleep for the night, though. I would guess I have enough time to learn more about you… about us.”
I need to know more about him, and I want to believe him, but I need more information.
“I don’t know if we have that much time. My autobiography is pretty intense, and it might serve our time better another night.” He looks uneasy now.
I feel like I have some unwarranted anger building up within me. I can’t figure out why. Is it because he seems to know more about my life than I do? Or because he won’t tell me anything about himself? I feel as if he’s taunting me with a truth that he knows I can’t easily believe.
I wrap my hand around his arm, feeling the muscles bulge beneath his skin. The feeling causes me to quiver, my voice to lower and sound somewhat out of breath. “Why won’t you tell me anything? I’m not sure I believe a word of what you’re saying, and if you’re unwilling to tell me more, well…”
“Look Chloe,” he huffs. “I’m not a creep. I have no way of proving that to you, but it’s true. You and I were friends once, but I lost you, and you lost me. Now that we’ve found each other again, I would like to have that friendship back.” He pulls his arm out of my grip. “But if you want to leave, I’ll understand.” Pain pings in my chest when he says it. Why do I even care this much? I just met him.
I want to stop talking. I want to stop pushing. But I need more and he won’t give it to me. “If you can’t tell me anything else, I don’t think I can stay.”
“Wait…what?”
“I guess I’ll just see you around sometime. Or you’ll see me around, rather, since that seems to be how it happens.”
He jerks his head in my direction. “Wait," he says insistently. "I didn’t mean I wanted you to leave.”
“And why would I stay?”
He doesn’t answer. He just stares into the horizon. “Will you just keep walking with me for a few more minutes?” His plea makes my chest ache. My intension wasn't to hurt him, and that's how he looks right now.
“Alex, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” And honestly, I don’t at this point.
A football rolls into my ankle, breaking up the intensity of this moment. I find a little boy running toward us, smiling. “My ball,” he calls over. Alex grabs the ball with one hand, winks at the kid and passes it to him. I watch all of his muscles tense as his arm swings. My stomach tingles with a good twinge. I try to clear my mind of the look of him…the smell of him. The feel of him.
I
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