Hurricane

June 2005

When I woke up, Pete was carrying me. As soon as I realized it, my hands were gripping Pete’s shoulders, afraid that I was going to fall.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, and I felt his breath on my forehead.

“What are you doing?” I asked as we headed for the front door, to go outside.

“Your mom is here,” he said. When we were standing by the door, he leaned down slightly till my feet were just slightly above the floor. I slid out of Pete’s arms, standing up carefully. I could feel the slight pressure of Pete’s hand on the middle of my back, making sure I didn’t fall.

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?” I asked. I opened the door slightly.

“I thought you’d prefer to keep sleeping,” he said, smiling at me. I smiled back.

“Thanks,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for—but I thanked him anyways. I opened the door more and stepped outside.

“Bye,” I heard Pete say before I closed the door. I walked over to my mom’s car and got in.

“How was your day?” she asked as she backed out of the driveway.

“Fine,” I said. I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye.

“I have to go to work early tomorrow,” my mom said. “Will you be fine for a few hours before Pete picks you up?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You promise you won’t do anything?” she said. I felt my eyes sting. My own mother didn’t even trust me, no matter how many times I reassured her that I wouldn’t do anything.

“Yes,” I said. “I won’t do anything.”

It was silent for a few minutes before my mom spoke up again.

“I want to have Pete over for dinner tomorrow, as well,” she said. “I haven’t really gotten a chance to meet him.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Let him know and then he can drive you home,” she said. I nodded my head.

--------------------------------------------------

I woke up at the same time I do every morning. My mom normally left for work around 8:30, which is when Pete would pick me up. I woke up at 7. I took my usual shower before getting dressed and heading to the living room to sit and wait for Pete, like usual. Except now it was silent. Normally my mother could be heard in kitchen, doing a few things before she had to leave.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was 8:15. I usually didn’t get to the living room until 8:25. I sighed, knowing that these 15 minutes were going to pass by slowly. After a minute, I got up and went into the kitchen, deciding to get something to eat. I grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter. I ate it quickly. I hadn’t realized how hungry I had been. I didn’t normally eat breakfast. When I looked at the clock it was 8:27. Pete would be here any moment. And as if he could hear my thoughts, there was a knock on the door. I hurried over and pulled the door open.

I couldn’t help but see a worried look on Pete’s face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. He scanned my face quickly.

“Where’s your mom?” he asked.

“She left for work early,” I said.

“So you’ve been alone?” Pete asked. I nodded my head. I don’t think I liked where this was going. He looked me over again. “Did you do anything?”

“What?” I asked, hurt starting to creep into my voice. I knew what he was insinuating… I just couldn’t believe that he would assume that.

“Did you do anything?” Pete asked again, putting emphasis on his words. My vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears. Why couldn’t someone, anyone, just trust me for once? I shook my head quickly before turning around, pressing my hands to my eyes to try and stop the tears from escaping. It didn’t help. I let out a strangled sob, and I heard Pete let out a breath. “Molly.”

I felt his hand touch my back gently and I jerked away. I wiped at my eyes frantically, trying to stop the tears, but I couldn’t.

I felt Pete’s hand again, lightly at first, but when I didn’t move away he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. His other arm wrapped around the middle of my back as he hugged me. He started to rub my back as I continued to cry into my hands which were pressed between my face and his chest.

“I’m really sorry, Molly,” Pete said quietly a few minutes later. I had also stopped crying. I pushed myself away from him and he dropped his arms.

“It’s okay,” I said. Rubbing my eyes slightly.

“No, it’s not,” Pete said, sighing. “I should have just trusted you, for Christ’s sake.”

He ran a hand over his face.

“I’m really sorry,” Pete said again. “You think me of all people would understand that trust is a big thing for us. I remember when they first brought me home—”

“Pete,” I said, cutting him off. His eyes met mine and I gave him an apologetic look. “It’s just…I’m not ready.”

“Yeah,” Pete said. “It’s fine.”

We were quiet again.

“Are you ready to go?” Pete asked quietly after a moment.

“Yeah,” I said. He smiled at me. I tried to smile back, but I just didn’t feel like it.