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The Space Between Us(11)

By:Anie Michaels


I felt him lean in closer to me, then I felt the small breeze of his whisper move past my skin.

"Will you dance with me, Bit?"

Every nerve in my body screamed no. No way. If I didn't step all over  his feet, surely I would throw up on his shoes. My mind wasn't ready for  all of this to be happening. Just hours ago we were just friends, and  now we were floating around on this confusing cloud of something more  and all I felt was confused. Yet, even though my mind screamed no, my  body said yes. A small nod was all Asher needed to lead me onto the  dance floor, still holding my hand.

We walked into the middle of the crowd of teenagers swaying to the music  and Asher stopped and turned towards me, a small smile playing across  his face. He unclasped my hand and brought his palms to my waist,  resting them on the bell curve just above my hips. I tried to stifle the  sharp breath I sucked in when I felt his hands on me, but I wasn't sure  he didn't hear.

I wore high heels, so I was taller than usual, and my head came just up  to his chin. I reached up and, with butterflies the size of swallows  fluttering around my stomach, I clasped my hands around his neck, trying  desperately to avoid his gaze. I was afraid of what I would see in his  eyes or what he would see in mine. I felt him touch me just below my  chin and brought my face around to look at him.

"Charlie, relax. This is just you and me. It's us, Bit. Don't be  nervous." A shaky breath escaped me as his finger trailed up from my  chin and moved over my cheek to my ear where he tucked away a lock that  had gone astray. His fingers moved down and sifted through my long  tresses, fingering the strands until he'd touched the entirety of their  length. I couldn't take his gaze anymore so I moved my cheek to rest it  against his chest, sighing into him, trying to let my nerves leave my  body with my breath.

We swayed back and forth, moving to the slow melodic tune of a song sung  by a woman with a low alto voice. I tried to focus on the lyrics, but I  was too distracted by keeping meticulous track of every point of  contact between our bodies. My front was pressed to his chest, and the  longer we danced the closer I pressed in, eliminating the space between  us. His hands eventually moved to wrap around my waist, resting on the  small of my back, his fingers splayed out, claiming so much of me. I  never imagined what it would be like to have Asher's hands on me, but I  knew at this moment I would never want anyone else's.

"You're so small, Charlie," he whispered to me. I pulled back slightly  to look up at him, puzzled by his comment. "All these years, I've seen  you, I've hugged you even. But right now, as I'm holding onto you, I am  amazed that something so important to me and so vital to my life can be  wrapped up in such a small package." His arms tightened around me and I  heard a small gasp leave my lungs. He lifted me up so my feet left the  ground and our faces were level. I held on around his neck and he had me  firmly around my middle. He rested his forehead against mine and I felt  my eyes drift closed.

"You mean everything to me, Charlie. I'm not sure I even understand what  that means fully right now, but every day it becomes clearer to me. You  are my everything."

His words zipped through me, electrifying my pulse and racing through my  veins. We were two friends, standing on a dance floor, still nearly  children, dressed up as adults, and we were at a crossroads. Our  foreheads still touching, our ragged breaths intermingling, our paths  intertwining at this very moment.

It was all too much for me.

I twisted away from him and slowly slid down from his grasp. My hand was  still on his chest when I looked up at his face, twisted in concern and  confusion. My fingers gripped his shirt, not wanting to let go, but I  knew I had to. This was more than I had bargained for. I took a deep  breath and broke our contact, heading towards the doors that would lead  me outside.                       
       
           



       

Once I was out the doors, I took in deep breaths like I'd been  underwater for hours. I couldn't seem to get enough air. I found a wall  to lean against and tried my best to calm my lungs. After a few minutes  Reeve came out and found me trying to breathe normally again.

"Charlie, what happened? Asher told me you were upset and to come find you." Of course Asher sent her.

"I just want to go home," I said, sounding small.

"First tell me what happened." She sounded concerned, but also  demanding. I looked down at my hands, trying to find a way to relieve  the anxiety that was building within me.

"I think," I started, but lost my nerve, bringing my hands to my face.  My head was starting to pound and I just wanted to lie down.

"Charlie, just tell me. You'll feel better."

I let out a large breath, again just trying to regulate a normal  breathing pattern. I felt like if I could master breathing at the  moment, I could master anything. Finally, I felt like I could finish a  sentence.

"I think things between Asher and me are changing." I cringed with the  words coming from my mouth. Admitting it was giving it life. Saying it  was making it true. At least, that's what it felt like to me. My eyes  shot open in surprise with the sound of Reeve's laughter ringing through  the air. She held her stomach, laughing big belly laughs, and after a  few moments a few tears started to make their way down her cheeks.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked, horrified.

She took a few minutes to compose herself, but could only stop laughing long enough to sputter a sentence at me.

"Things have been changing since school started, Charlie." Her statement  shocked me, but made sense at the same time. All year, even as early as  the very first day when Asher defended me against the foul-mouthed boy,  things were slowly morphing. But what happened tonight seemed like a  warped-speed metamorphosis. Everything had been magnified. Illuminated.

"What am I going to do, Reeve?" I sounded just as panicked as I felt.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. What's supposed to happen now?" Reeve looked at me like I was crazy.

"Do you like Asher?" She asked that question so effortlessly, so  callously, I was almost angry at her for asking such an important  question with such little concern.

"Of course I like Asher." I stated, dumbfounded, confused and a little angry.

"No, I mean, like, do you want him?"

"Want him?" I felt permanent frown lines forming on my forehead and I could feel my pulse pounding in my temple.

"You know, do you want him to kiss you? Hold your hand? Be your boyfriend?"

"Be my boyfriend?" Too much. This was all too much. "I just want to go  home." I heard her exhale, then I heard her heels click on the pavement  as she made her way towards me.

"Ok, Charlie. Let's go wait for your dad. But be aware that just because  you're running away from this right now doesn't mean it won't be  waiting for you in the morning. I don't think Asher is going to let up  any time soon. And honestly, he was really upset when you ran out on  him." That tidbit of information piqued my interest.

"He was upset?"

"Well, yeah. He was worried about you." That tugged at my heart. I didn't want him to worry about me.

"Could you just go back in there and tell him that I am fine, that I am  just going to go home. Tell him I will talk to him later." Reeve gave me  a long and lingering stare.

"Ok, I will go and tell him, but you are going to have to talk to him about all this at some point."

"Not tonight." I was exhausted. I watched Reeve walk back towards the  building and I stumbled around the corner to head towards where my dad  would pick us up. The heels I wore turned out to be a big mistake and my  feet were rebelling against them. I leaned up against the wall, waiting  for my dad to show up, trying to forget, for just a moment, that things  between Asher and I would likely never be the same.



The next afternoon I was in my room doing what I always did when I was  upset  –  I drew. My mother always encouraged my art and it was something  we shared up until her death. My mother was a painter, but I enjoyed  drawing. At the moment I used charcoal and was fiddling around when I  realized I had drawn two hands holding each other. I tried hard not to  think about why my mind had gone there, but I knew why. I knew I would  have to talk to Asher eventually. I just wasn't sure what I would say.

I didn't have long to think about it though. I heard a soft knock on my  door and turned to see him leaning against the door frame. He looked  worried and that, in turn, worried me.

"Is everything ok?" I asked immediately concerned.