Beautiful Boy(48)

Nineteen





The sun shining through the window woke me the following morning. It  took me a moment to realize where I was, and then a grin instantly  tugged at the corners of my lips. I'd slept in Nolan's bed all night,  and that thought alone filled me with more hope and happiness than  anything else.

When I rolled over, I noticed the other side of the bed empty, and my  smile faded from my lips. I wished he'd stayed long enough for me to see  his face first thing in the morning, but I couldn't let it bother me. I  couldn't let it take away the high I got from sleeping next to Nolan  all night.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" Nolan asked as soon as I made it to the  kitchen, where I found him making coffee and buttering a few pieces of  toast.

I stood against the counter and watched him, unable to speak. The sight  of him stole the words from my tongue. He'd put his leg back on and wore  a pair of sweatpants, hung low on his hips. The way his muscles moved  made it seem as though he were exercising instead of spreading butter,  and it nearly hypnotized me.

My silence must've piqued his curiosity, because he glanced over his shoulder, and then he completely stopped everything.

"How do you do it? How do you look even more beautiful than you did yesterday, or the day before?"

I waved my hand at him in dismissal. "I just woke up, Nolan. No one looks good first thing in the morning."

He shook his head and turned his body to face me. Leaning against the  counter behind him, he said, "I happen to think you look your best first  thing in the morning."

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Nolan had always said he preferred  me without makeup, but I thought he'd said it to flatter me. However,  the way he regarded me, the way his gaze softened and filled with  something I'd never seen in another pair of eyes before-especially a  pair staring back at me-I couldn't help but believe him.

My hair was thrown up in some kind of messy knot since I didn't have a  brush to get the tangles out. I had not one ounce of concealer on my  face to hide the few blemishes on my cheek, which never seemed to go  away, and my lips felt dry and cracked. In no way would anyone look at  me and call me beautiful-no one except Nolan.

"How did you sleep?" I asked, changing the subject with the hope it would alleviate the burning in my cheeks.

"Not very well."

I glanced away, unable to hide the expression that had instantly taken  over my face. I had no idea what to say to him. How do you respond to  someone who admitted sleeping next to you had kept them up all night? So  instead of asking why or probing for more information, I stared at the  floor and counted each step he took in my direction.

One … two … three … and then his arms were around me.

"I couldn't stop watching you," he whispered into my ear. The warmth of  his breath heated my skin, but it was his words that ignited a fire  inside. "I couldn't believe I finally had you next to me, and not once  did I experience the need to push you away. I wanted to hold you closer,  feel your body against mine."

My arms instinctually wrapped around his waist, and I buried my face  into his bare chest. "You've come so far, Nolan. I'm so proud of you."

"Listen." He pulled back, but he never broke our embrace, only loosened  it. "I can't promise I won't have moments of hesitation, or I won't  fight against things. But I learned something yesterday, and again last  night with you."

"Oh, yeah?" I couldn't fight the muscles in my face from pulling my lips into a giddy smirk. "What did you learn?"

"You give one hell of a blowjob."

I belted out a laugh that came from deep within. It felt so good, this  moment with Nolan. But then his mood turned somber as he continued his  explanation.         

     



 

"When I developed your roll of film and realized when the pictures had  been taken, it made me relive that day all over again-just that day … not  the ones after. But for the first time, I got to see it through your  eyes. It was like you were showing me your memories of it instead of me  seeing my own."

"Why are your memories of it so bad?"

"My dad took it all away. I have nothing to look back on to remember any  of it except what's in here." He tapped his finger against his temple,  not once taking his eyes off mine. "It's like watching a movie you've  already seen. You can't enjoy a really good scene because you know what  happens next. It becomes tainted in a way. For years, I haven't been  able to think of that day without the pain of what followed."

"And seeing my pictures changed that?"

"You told me how your life changed after that, but I never witnessed it.  So, I guess it was like watching a different movie." He huffed, and I  could see his frustration in the way he closed his eyes and shook his  head. "This isn't making any sense."

"Yes it is. Go on."

"I was just a kid. I may have been eighteen, but everyone knows an eighteen-year-old boy is far from being an adult."

I held his face and gently ran my thumbs beneath his eyes. "Do you still think I blame you for everything? Nolan … "

"No." The trembles in his voice had vanished, and his hands gripped my  hips so hard his fingers pinched my skin against the bones. "I know you  don't. We've moved past that. However, I realized yesterday I still  condemned myself. And I think that's worse than you blaming me."

"Why?" Confusion turned my question into an airy breath, one without the sound of my voice to back it up.

"All these years, I kept telling myself I should've known better. I  should have been better. I wanted you so much, and when I finally had  time with you outside the walls of school, away from my friends and the  immaturity of the kids around us, I stopped thinking straight. I  disrespected you by what I did. I should've asked for your number, taken  you out on a date, let you know how I really felt about you. But  instead, I allowed my hormones to lead the way."

"You can't take all the blame, Nolan. I allowed you to do what you did. I  could've stopped you. It's not fair for you to take all the  responsibility."

He shook his head, dismissing my claim. "I still should've known better.  You were naïve, and I took advantage without even knowing it. And this  whole time, ever since then, I've blamed myself. But seeing your  pictures changed something in me.

"When you think back to your younger self, the image is distorted. You  see you … but through your own eyes, through your own memories and  experiences. It's hard to gain perspective that way. But your pictures  allowed me to see myself through your lens, and it gave me the chance to  see something I'd never been able to on my own. I was just a kid."

"You never realized that before?"

"No. Everyone at that age thinks they're wise and mature enough to be an  adult. They think they know everything … and I was no different. So in my  head, I was a young adult, but an adult nonetheless. I've never been  able to give myself slack for being age appropriate."

"But now you do?"

He nodded, and it seemed as though some of his tension had vanished from  his shoulders. "I'm not saying I shouldn't have known better, or that  what I did was right, because it wasn't. In hindsight, I never should've  touched you or let it go as far as it did. But I am finally able to  look back on that version of myself and, without condemning him,  acknowledge how he made a mistake."

"So this whole time you've hated yourself because of what you did  fifteen years ago? Nolan, we all make mistakes and do things we wish we  could take back. But we can't let those regrets hold us captive. All we  can do is take it at face value, learn from it, and move on-hopefully as  better people."

"I know that now. Your pictures gave that to me. Like I said, my  memories were a movie I've already seen; I already knew the outcome. In  my screenplay, the main character became ostracized for his actions, and  his penance was losing his leg, losing years of his life … losing  himself. Whereas your movie had a different main character, a different  feel. It was about this amazing girl who had caught the eye of a  hopeless boy. She saw something in him he couldn't even see in himself.  But what I really got out of it was he was a boy. And for one brief  moment, he made her happy. It didn't show the destruction his actions  had caused or the lives his choices had altered. It was nothing but a  story of two teenagers spending an amazing afternoon together."         

     



 

"That's what you saw in my pictures?" I was baffled, completely in awe over his depiction of my lost photos.

He nodded and the slightest grin revealed itself on his lips. "And it  offered me a peace I've never experienced before. You've saved me more  times than I can count."

"No, Nolan. You've saved yourself. I know you think just because I've  popped up in your thoughts or inadvertently gave you something strong  enough to pull yourself through, it somehow means I saved you. But you  couldn't be further from the truth. If you truly wanted to  self-destruct, you would have by now. It wasn't me saving you in those  moments … it was all you. You're stronger than you give yourself credit  for."