Stories from the Back of His Motorcycle

Where did we go from here? There were so many possibilities – some beautiful and some destructive but all equally as difficult. I knew there was no backing out, and I didn’t wish to, but it was still daunting just imagining the scenarios Vaughn and I would find ourselves in.

What would others think? What would those who knew say? What would those who didn’t say?

I leant my back against the doorframe; my breath almost visible in front of me as it all came rushing out. The echoing thoughts were heavy, the spiralling feelings oppressing.

I could hear Nick’s shuffling feet murmur on his floor as I waited. I pictured him, picking up strewn clothes from his floor, running a hand through his tussled hair, peering down at his guitar and remembering how it felt to be a big brother again. I hadn’t forgiven him but I had accepted him. Last night had been about more than just a long forgotten song and a few shed tears.

There was a sharp rap on the door my back was pressed against, setting the vibrations running down my spine. I frowned into oblivion. There’d been no loud exhaust giving away Vaughn’s motorcycle. In fact, the only sounds audible were Nick’s movements and my heavy breathing. Opening my front door, I almost expected it to be someone different, as if he wasn’t running late already.

I took one glance at him, though, and wondered what to make of him. There was no cigarette poised in his hand, his jacket had been replaced with a cardigan of grey so dull it could match the heaviest rain cloud. His hair was messy but no strips fell near his black eyes as if restrained. I could almost see the cage he had already built around himself – locking away all the traits that had made my Vaughn mine.

Then I saw the vehicle lying adjacent to my drive, overlapping itself into the road. For a second I assumed it was Nick’s which he’d purchased overnight or some neighbour’s who’d parked carelessly. The car was so plain, so ordinary, just like a million other cars flying along our roads.

“Hey,” he breathed. His voice was the same, the expression on his face questioning. I recognised the confusion deep set in his eyes – asking me why I wasn’t slamming the door in his face. I could only smile weakly and move forwards, into him.

“Hello.” I curled my arms around his neck and brought his body softly against mine. We meshed together. His hands wound right around my waist, making me feel as dainty and fragile as a doll. Making me pretend that Vaughn could never break me.

Resting my head carefully in the crook of his neck, I took a quiet inhale of breath, craving the smell of cigarettes and cinnamon which embodied Vaughn Hart’s unseen person. The overwhelming stench of cologne hit me instead, forcing my throat to close up and causing an acrid taste to infiltrate my mouth. Pulling sharply away, I frowned at him. Vaughn had never worn cologne before - it was so mundane. Vaughn embraced his nicotine smell. Vaughn embraced all of his dark traits regardless to what society thought. The boy in my arms was less like Vaughn than he ever had been. It was very strange.

“We’re going to be late Alice.” No sweetheart, no affectionate twinkle in his eye. The lines in my brow deepened as I stepped fully back.

“I guess...”

He turned and made his way over to the unclaimed car. My mouth fell open, watching him unlock the car door and sit himself inside. My stomach twisted as if ready to be sick, to reject the very idea that Vaughn wasn’t about to drive his motorcycle.

I had been wrong – it wasn’t very strange, it was completely alarming. Vaughn was like a stranger and I didn’t exactly take lifts from strangers.

“Out,” I ordered, brandishing my finger at the ground before me. “Get out of that car right now.”

He obeyed slowly. I watched him make his way back over to my doorstep where I still stood. My arms were wound around myself, cocooning my body in its most protective stance. I couldn’t understand why he was acting so different, if it had anything to do with his great reveal yesterday. The curtains had finally been drawn so was this just delayed stage fright?

“What are you doing Vaughn?”

“Taking you to school?” he posed it as a question.

“In a car?”

“Is that a crime?”

“But in an actual car,” I let my eyes linger on the vehicle, not a hint of rust or a scratch on its obviously new paint. “Where did you even get that thing from?” I couldn’t help but let my lip curl up in disgust.

“It’s my Dad’s,” he shrugged “he let me borrow it.”

There was a stiff silence which we fell into. I was too appalled to speak, too confused and upset. Just as I had come to accept my decision to stay with Vaughn, to accept him wholly for what he was, he had gone and changed himself. And into someone just like everybody else. Someone I didn’t much like.

“Why?” I finally managed “why would you even want to borrow it?”

“Isn’t that the normal thing to do? Lots of people drive cars to get to school Alice.”

I sighed in frustration and put a hand up to trace my wild dark hair. “But what about your motorcycle?”

“What about it? It’s time I stopped living life so recklessly – as if there really weren’t a tomorrow. Although I am sick it doesn’t mean I should treat every day as if it were my last,” his eyes were pleading and I wondered just who he was trying to fool.

“I love that motorcycle,” I almost whispered, unsure as to why I missed the thing so much.

Vaughn’s expression was unreadable. I gulped down the sudden bundle of nerves sitting deep in my stomach, unsure as to whether I had gone too far. Surely our relationship shouldn’t move any further now that both of us were just going to get hurt – surely it should sit in a state of limbo. The word ‘love’ felt especially heavy on my tongue.

“It’s dangerous,” he mumbled nonchalantly. It was then that I noticed the twitch in his right hand. The way his fingers curled over the nonexistent cigarette, the way his fingertips brushed along where the stick should have been. And I realised that all of these new changes weren’t for him – his entire body craving what it had previously been.

“Vaughn,” I sighed, letting a tiny smile creep onto my face “what am I going to do with you?”

The boy raised his head fully to meet my level gaze. I reached forward a hand, ran it through his perfect falling hair so it resembled the tussled mess that I loved. I pulled at the cardigan sleeves until he took the thing off, an unsure expression replacing the nonchalant mask. It wasn’t cold enough to need it anyway and, if it wasn’t made of leather or slightly battered, it shouldn’t be around his shoulders.

I let my hand fall down until our fingers entwined, deliberately stopping his incessant twitching. The loss of his smoking was one trait I wasn’t desperate to replace.

“You should drive home and get your motorcycle,” I told him plainly.

He quirked his head to a side and stared intently at me. “But it is dangerous and it’s not just me that’s got to ride the thing. You’re not already dying Alice; you don’t have the luxury of a deadline which tells you time’s running out. Why should you risk your life along with me?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I smiled weakly, remembering how opposed to the deadly vehicle I’d been before Vaughn had changed my perception. Changed it on almost everything. “And stop talking like you’re going to drop dead any minute because you’re not.” The smile faded at the very idea of Vaughn being gone.

“I want to give you a normal relationship Alice; I want to show you that.”

I had been right about his changes – they hadn’t been for him but for me. I shook my head at the pure foolishness swarming his head, at the fact that this boy who pretended to be so old was still just eighteen. And still didn’t understand anything about girls.

“Vaughn, I don’t want a normal relationship. Heck, I don’t think I’m capable of a normal relationship. Like it or not you’re the right guy and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Even knowing what you know?” his eyes were so desolate in that moment, so bottomless. I almost burst into tears just meeting them and realising how vulnerable Vaughn Hart was.

“Even knowing what I know,” I confirmed “you’re not the only one carrying baggage.”

His lips turned up into the slightest hint of a smile “your baggage pales in comparison to mine sweetheart.”

I laughed at the fact that he had managed to turn it into a competition. I laughed at the fact that he sounded like Vaughn again. Like my Vaughn.

“Well,” he let out a puff of breathe “I’m actually pretty glad you don’t approve of the new me. Dad’s car feels so awkward; I look like an idiot driving it. Just holding the steering wheel makes me cringe.”

We observed the vehicle together, hands still entwined. “It does look like an old person’s car,” I noted.

He chuckled and brought me suddenly closer. “And I’ve missed my cigarettes.”

“You don’t fool me Vaughn,” I smirked “no matter how much cologne you put on I can tell you just had a smoke.”

His body pushed against mine vibrated with his laugh, his guilty laugh. “Don’t appreciate my cologne?”

I crinkled up my nose and turned my head pointedly away from him. The morning was pressing on and we were late but I couldn’t find it in me to feel bad. I had a boy beside me who had been willing, stupidly willing, to change himself just for me. Just in case I couldn’t cope with him - he was that desperate for me to stay. And, instead of being cynical and mocking, I found myself contented.

“No more cologne then.” Vaughn pressed his face gently into the crook of my neck and wrapped his arms around me again. I smiled at the nothingness over his shoulder, wondering if the stars on the other side of the world had aligned themselves. He was too good to be true – he really was too good to be true. And I didn’t have forever with him like I’d secretly wished.

“Promise me you’ll never turn up to my door with a car and a cardigan again, okay?”

“I promise no car but I found the cardigan quite comfortable,” he smirked.

“Leave cardigans to me.”

“But they look so much better of me.”

I playfully narrowed my eyes and pretended to be wounded. Vaughn just swooped close to plant a loving kiss directly on my lips. I smiled, surprised, and returned the peck just after he’d withdrawn.

“You’re far too good for me,” he groaned, eyes raking over my face slowly as if trying to burn every feature to memory. I almost scoffed. It was ridiculous that Vaughn, the Vaughn Hart, should even toy with the notion that he wasn’t good enough for me. Illness or not, failing heart or not, he was perfect.

I was just about to tell him this when the door behind us opened to reveal a smartly dressed Nick. I balked at the sight, appalled and deeply disturbed. The only time Nick had ever been remotely dressed smartly was at Grandfather’s funeral and even then he’d undone his tie and un-tucked his shirt.

“Where...?” I trailed off as he eyed us both. I could almost see the memory of yesterday replaying in his mind; the few gurgled words I’d managed through sobs had been about Vaughn. About Vaughn and about me quitting.

“Got a job interview,” Nick replied curtly to my half finished question. I blinked, quite unable to understand his words. The only job Nick knew was his guitar, was playing in front of crowds of people.

Vaughn nodded slowly from beside me, aware of the dark look Nick was sending him. I noticed it too and moved hastily between the two, an overreaction no doubt stemmed back to Ross’ earlier reaction to him. Nick and Vaughn had already met and yet the hostility in my brother’s gaze was unmistakable.

“Don’t make my sister cry again buddy,” he eventually spoke. I almost laughed out loud. Nick was trying to be protective now? As if that role hadn’t been filled by the overprotective Ross for the past eighteen years?

Vaughn’s brow instantly furrowed as he peered uneasily at me. “You cried?” I heard the heartbreak in his words and felt a deep burn cross my cheeks. “I’m so sorry Alice, God I’m so fucking sorry.”

I couldn’t help but shoot Nick an exasperated look as he passed us by, a why-did-you-have-to-tell-him-that look. It wasn’t that I was ashamed; it was that I didn’t want Vaughn to worry any more about me and my reaction to him.

I shrugged. “I don’t blame you.”

He scoffed before practically storming over to his borrowed car. I watched him leave footprints on the terrain by the side of the path, not feeling upset that he could have just used the path. In fact, I liked the imprints of him left in front of my house.

I followed after a few dazed seconds, careful not to put my feet anywhere near the places he had accidentally marked. My slightly purple hands wound themselves together. Vaughn was slumped against the car, one foot pressed on the metal door, one arm resting on the roof. He was upset again – that much was obvious, but I couldn’t understand why. Surely my not blaming him would make him happy, would make him relieved?

“You don’t understand Alice; you have to be upset with me. I kept this from you and deliberately pushed us closer even knowing the consequences. That was selfish of me, Alice, that makes me a selfish person.”

If there was one thing I detested in the world it was self pity. So, instead of being gentle and reassuring, I just rolled my eyes and struck an annoyed pose in front of him. He watched me do so; eyebrows sloped together into the picture of perfect misery.

“Don’t tell me what I’m feeling Vaughn because you’re very very wrong. Sure, I don’t want you to die and sure, I think you should have told me earlier, but you didn’t. We all have secrets and I understand that you don’t owe me an explanation for everything. I’m not going anywhere, though, so you can just forget the whole notion of getting away that easily.”

He was silent for a minute. I could almost see his mind turn over my words, flipping them and digesting them until every last meaning was absorbed. And he finally realised that I really wasn’t mad, that I was never going to slam the door on his face, that I couldn’t deny a lift on his motorcycle any longer. I think he realised a lot then, things that even I hadn’t come to terms with.

Without a word, he turned and opened the car door before stepping inside. I watched him fiddle with the cigarettes he had stashed under the seat, a familiar disapproving smile settling itself upon my face.

“You coming then?”

I eyed the car, reluctantly moving around to the passenger’s side. “Aren’t you going home to get your motorcycle?”

“Of course but I think there’s someone who’d love to meet you on the way.”

“Someone who’d love to meet me?” I scoffed, finding the idea unlikely.

Vaughn nodded and beamed with the cigarette burning between his teeth. He put the car into gear stiffly, reminding me of my first few driving lessons where I’d stalled the car more times than I could count. Vaughn’s smooth hand reached over and took mine, forcing my fingers to sit comfortably between his. I turned my head to peer out the window just in case he caught the smile I couldn’t wipe off my lips. Stealing a glance in his direction as we set off, I noticed he wore the same grin.