couch. Without saying a word, she handed me a cup of coffee.
"I'm sorry about last night," she said after I'd taken a few sips.
"You don't have to apologize."
She stared down at her hands. "I shouldn't have gone to Bruce's house. I shouldn't have forced myself on you like that. I don't know what I was thinking."
"It's not your fault."
We fell into silence. The sun peeked through the yellow curtains of her living room. I needed to get home soon, before Father realized I was gone.
"Let me see your hand," she said when I'd finished my coffee. Her voice was barely a whisper, as if she was trying to hold back an onslaught of tears. At first I wondered why she wanted my hand, but then I remembered that I'd punched through a glass window the night before. My hand was swollen and encrusted with dried blood. She took some tweezers and tried to get out all the remnants of glass before she cleaned the cuts and scrapes. I just stared at her the entire time. There she was, taking care of me again. I was glad I had been there for her last night when she needed me. It was nice to return the favor, for once.
"I couldn't get it all. You may want to get some stitches or take some medicine so it won't get infected," she said as she wrapped my fist with gauze and kissed it. I caressed her face with my other hand, just relishing the opportunity to touch her, to spend time with her. She closed her eyes tightly and leaned into my touch. "I can't take this anymore."
I dropped my hand and turned away. I knew what she meant. Seeing each other nearly every day and not being able to be together was slowly killing us.
"I'm going back to New York."
I took a deep breath. "When?" I couldn't fight her. I couldn't beg her to stay. I just had to accept it.
She shrugged. "Today, I guess. Nothing is keeping me here. I have no reason to stay."
"Where will you live?"
She sighed. "A girl from the art school said I could stay with her for a while." Ruthie stood up and hugged herself. "I've been thinking about it for a few weeks, actually. I'll live with Marie; maybe get a job as a waitress or something while I try to sell some of my work."
I nodded. It was as good a plan as any. "Can I give you some money?" I asked, looking toward the window again. "I've been saving since..." I couldn't finish the sentence. I'd been saving money ever since our first kiss by the lake.
"No, I'm okay. Grandma Esther had some money saved."
The silence crashed upon us. I stood and slipped my feet into my sneakers. After throwing on my coat, I headed for the door. "Do you need anything?" I asked, my hand resting on the doorknob. Part of me wanted her to say she needed me . But what good would that have done? We needed to end this torment. Putting a few states between us was probably the most logical thing to do.
"Just a ride to the bus station," she said.
I nodded. "I'll pick you up in two hours?"
"Okay."
Chapter 22
"So, Ruthie moved back to New York and you stayed in Virginia?" Lt. Drake asked
I nodded.
Lt. Drake looked at his watch. "It's almost five a.m. Why don't I get us some caffeine?"
I nodded again then started rubbing the soreness out of my neck muscles as Lt. Drake left the room in search of drinks. I was beyond exhausted. Ruthie and I hadn't slept much during the four days we were on the run. And sitting in the same place all night, rehashing my turbulent life, added to my emotional fatigue.
Lt. Drake returned and placed a bottle of soda and a stale donut in front of me.
"Thanks," I said, before biting into it. I was so hungry I would've eaten anything. I wondered if Ruthie had been given more in the way of sustenance than me.
"Is Ruthie okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's asleep in a holding cell."
"She's in a cell?" I nearly choked on a crumb of donut. They were treating her like a criminal.
"Relax; she's not under arrest or anything. She's just using the bed to get some sleep."
I sighed in relief. I was glad she
"I'm sorry about last night," she said after I'd taken a few sips.
"You don't have to apologize."
She stared down at her hands. "I shouldn't have gone to Bruce's house. I shouldn't have forced myself on you like that. I don't know what I was thinking."
"It's not your fault."
We fell into silence. The sun peeked through the yellow curtains of her living room. I needed to get home soon, before Father realized I was gone.
"Let me see your hand," she said when I'd finished my coffee. Her voice was barely a whisper, as if she was trying to hold back an onslaught of tears. At first I wondered why she wanted my hand, but then I remembered that I'd punched through a glass window the night before. My hand was swollen and encrusted with dried blood. She took some tweezers and tried to get out all the remnants of glass before she cleaned the cuts and scrapes. I just stared at her the entire time. There she was, taking care of me again. I was glad I had been there for her last night when she needed me. It was nice to return the favor, for once.
"I couldn't get it all. You may want to get some stitches or take some medicine so it won't get infected," she said as she wrapped my fist with gauze and kissed it. I caressed her face with my other hand, just relishing the opportunity to touch her, to spend time with her. She closed her eyes tightly and leaned into my touch. "I can't take this anymore."
I dropped my hand and turned away. I knew what she meant. Seeing each other nearly every day and not being able to be together was slowly killing us.
"I'm going back to New York."
I took a deep breath. "When?" I couldn't fight her. I couldn't beg her to stay. I just had to accept it.
She shrugged. "Today, I guess. Nothing is keeping me here. I have no reason to stay."
"Where will you live?"
She sighed. "A girl from the art school said I could stay with her for a while." Ruthie stood up and hugged herself. "I've been thinking about it for a few weeks, actually. I'll live with Marie; maybe get a job as a waitress or something while I try to sell some of my work."
I nodded. It was as good a plan as any. "Can I give you some money?" I asked, looking toward the window again. "I've been saving since..." I couldn't finish the sentence. I'd been saving money ever since our first kiss by the lake.
"No, I'm okay. Grandma Esther had some money saved."
The silence crashed upon us. I stood and slipped my feet into my sneakers. After throwing on my coat, I headed for the door. "Do you need anything?" I asked, my hand resting on the doorknob. Part of me wanted her to say she needed me . But what good would that have done? We needed to end this torment. Putting a few states between us was probably the most logical thing to do.
"Just a ride to the bus station," she said.
I nodded. "I'll pick you up in two hours?"
"Okay."
Chapter 22
"So, Ruthie moved back to New York and you stayed in Virginia?" Lt. Drake asked
I nodded.
Lt. Drake looked at his watch. "It's almost five a.m. Why don't I get us some caffeine?"
I nodded again then started rubbing the soreness out of my neck muscles as Lt. Drake left the room in search of drinks. I was beyond exhausted. Ruthie and I hadn't slept much during the four days we were on the run. And sitting in the same place all night, rehashing my turbulent life, added to my emotional fatigue.
Lt. Drake returned and placed a bottle of soda and a stale donut in front of me.
"Thanks," I said, before biting into it. I was so hungry I would've eaten anything. I wondered if Ruthie had been given more in the way of sustenance than me.
"Is Ruthie okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's asleep in a holding cell."
"She's in a cell?" I nearly choked on a crumb of donut. They were treating her like a criminal.
"Relax; she's not under arrest or anything. She's just using the bed to get some sleep."
I sighed in relief. I was glad she
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