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“Why would I write a note and then sign it ‘Tate’?” I ask. “You looked at it, you would’ve seen what it said,” I argue. I’m losing my will to endure this fight – it seems so fruitless and I feel as though I can’t trust my mind. What is happening to me?
His tone changes so that it’s low and soothing as he rubs his thumbs up my jaw. “Baby, I didn’t read it. I told you – I said something like ‘if you want to say something to me,sayit’because I didn’t want to read a note. I glanced at it and I couldn’t-”
He immediately stops and then glances around the car as if he’s searching for the rest of his sentence.Why wouldn’t he have read it?He changes paths completely.
“I thought that you were mad at me for leaving or you wanted someone else, and that’s why you were so angry. I thought that you didn’t want to, like, long-distance with me because we were crazy-young. And I got that – I didn’t agree with it, but I understood it. I was going to stay with my mom and my step-dad until I could move into this house with my dad, and then Iwas going to transfer back to school. When you didn’t want us to be a thing anymore I still moved here because I didn’t want to be at home with my step-dad and…” He shakes his head. “My dad let me do online schooling until I graduated. It was easier. It helped with… certain things.” He sighs and dips his forehead to mine. My eyes have grown wide but he’s so lost in his past that he hasn’t noticed.
He lifts his head and his eyes are on my mouth. He presses his lips against mine and another soft anguished sound comes out of him. He shifts in his seat and grips his hands on me tighter, one lacing its way up into my hair and the other rubbing its way down around my throat. I’m too startled to react. My eyes are open as he parts my lips and gently slides his tongue against mine. I feel it deep in my stomach and I stir at the heat that’s sliding down my belly.
Tate pulls back and looks into my eyes, understanding that something that night went seriously amiss, and now he wants answers too.
I’m desperate for clarity – I need to be one hundred percent sure – and Tate can tell. A pained look crosses his face, as if he didn’t want it to come to this, and he presses his forehead against my shoulder. I hear him inhale deeply and his broad shoulders swell. I run my hands across his muscles and squeeze them in my palms.
It takes him a few moments to gather himself and then he lifts his determined face to mine. “Baby, the reason why I typed you a message that time instead of writing it… the reason why I didn’t want to read the note that day…” He looks away from me briefly, wincing slightly, and then draws his eyes back to mine. “I’m dyslexic,” he says. “I have dyslexia. It’s not a big deal but when I was in school it was… hard. Some people handle it better and with good tutorage they can improve, but I was kind of stubborn back then so I just threw myself into sports, and biking, and thestuff with my dad instead. Don’t get me wrong, I can read, but at that time – especially with handwritten text – it was… it would take me just alotlonger than the typical kid to read something really fucking basic. That’s why I was so angry and, to be honest, embarrassed when you showed me that note. I didn’t want you to see me like that, especially since I thought you were breaking up with me.” His brow is contorted as he studies me for a reaction. “I’m really sorry River.”
My heart hitches in my chest as the pieces of the puzzle slowly fall into place.
Tate never wrote me a note.
Tate never wrote me a note.
Tate’s dyslexia… it’s in everything. Everything he’s said or done that I didn’t quite understand at the time. It’s been right in front of my face and I didn’t even see it.
Tate never wrote that note, and Tate has no idea.
He’s waiting for me to respond so I do the only thing that I can think of to convey all of the emotions that I’m feeling right now. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss himso freaking hard. He groans as I crush myself against him and I feel the relief from his lungs pour inside of me. His chest is heaving. I run my hands all over him – around his throat, up his jaw, into his hair – and I part my lips so that he can slide inside.
Why on earth did he apologise to me just now? I hate that he felt like he should say that. I have never been so relieved in my life.
I pull away from him so that I can slip off my glasses and I place them down on the dash before I move over to settle in his lap. His pants are still unzipped, exposing the cotton of his boxer briefs, and the pressure from my groin makes his head fall back in pleasure. He spreads his thighs wider, stretching my knees out until I gasp, and then he slides down in his seat so that his face is closer to mine. He uses the hand around the back of myneck to bring me to him so that he can kiss me again, and his other hand slides between us. He deftly rips my jeans open from simply pulling the denim alone and he slips his fingers down the front of my underwear, grunting in pleasure as he feels how soft I am. When I try to do the same to him he eases me back.
“Wait, baby, we need to-” He restrains my wrists in his hands and I struggle pettily against his hold. “You need to finish this. You need to tell me what happened.”
I roll my eyes and sigh exasperatedly.Seriously?“I don’t want to. It’s over now.”
He shakes his head. “Uh-uh. You needto tell me what caused you to feel like this for so long.”
I stare at him with narrowed aggravated eyes and he strokes my wrists consolingly, coaxing me with princess treatment. I huff and throw my head back. He grabs it in his palm before I can do any more damage, like smashing it into the windshield.
“You’re not gonna like it,” I warn. God knows I definitely fucking didn’t.
He nods. “I know. If this is anywhere near half as bad as what I’m thinking, I’m about to get arrested.”
A little flame of delight licks up my sternum. In the dark of the car with only the neighbours’ Christmas decorations to light up his face, Tate glitters down at me like an angel. I press a chaste kiss to the pad of his bottom lip and his chest enlarges protectively.
“Tell me,” he says finally.
So I do.
Chapter 26
Three Years Ago
It’s weird. The building that houses the Gym looks completely deserted, evidently because all of the other students are leaving by the entrance in the front foyer, ushered by teachers saying their goodbyes as we leave for winter break. Maybe that’s why Tate wanted us to meet up at the changing rooms – because there would be no-one else here – but that kind of makes me confused because he has been so openly affectionate with me these past few weeks. I look around the empty yard once more, and then I pull open the doors to enter the Gym.
The entryway is freezing cold and the smell of rubber equipment and aerosol spray lingers in the air. Plus, Tate isn’t standing in the main entrance, which confounds me even further. Naturally upon seeing no-one my eyes subsequently move to the two doors directly in front of me - the girls’ changing room on the left and the boys’ changing room on the right. I glance around at my surroundings again, the building so chilled that my breath mists opaquely in front of my face, and I feel really uneasy now. Why would Tate bring me here?
Tate definitely wouldn’t go into the girls’ changing room, that much Iamsure, so I hesitantly take a step closer to the boys’ changing room instead. I haven’t ever been inside of the boys’ locker room. Obviously no-one is going to be in there except for Tate so it should be fine, but I can’t help the uneasy sloshingfeeling gurgling around in my gut. I take a long, slow breath of the sharp December air and then I pull open the door to the boys’ room.
