Stories from the Back of His Motorcycle

Vaughn Hart.

There wasn’t an hour which passed by when my mind didn’t flitter over this name, the two syllables, two words seemingly a flock of multicoloured butterflies flying too quickly for my eyes to make out. There was the blur of blue and red and yellow but then nothing. Vaughn Hart to me was just like multicoloured butterflies, and as much as I wanted to I couldn’t quite catch them within my desperate, outstretched net. He was fleeting. He was still dying no matter what I did or what I thought or how I tried to make things up.

And that’s why I’d agreed to go out with him. On a date. As childish and immature as that word sounded to me, as empty and artificial, I’d beamed just like a little girl would and nodded.

His hand engulfed mine as we entered the small restaurant. I was uncomfortably aware that the stupid dress I’d dragged from the back of my closet made me look a good few years younger than I actually was, and my hair was a mess of curls where I’d attempted to do something with it before placing the damning helmet over my hard work. Not to mention my hand in his was slightly discoloured from the cool night air and my cheeks were flushed at being out in such a stereotypical way with Vaughn Hart.

He turned to look at me as we waited in line for a table. I was scared he’d notice all those flaws on me that night; begin to wonder what he was doing with me, but his eyes just focused on mine. Intense and dark. No hint of grey at all. I smiled slightly, unable to hide just what his gaze did to me.

“You look beautiful,” he muttered, his voice almost washed away with the growing background noise. He accompanied his words with a quick peck on my cheek before drawing back to take me in all over again.

I shook my head, flustered. Beautiful was such a foreign word to me. Appearance to me meant little but suddenly, in that moment, it meant the world. I bowed my head down to rest gently in his chest so he couldn’t see the dorky grin pulling my cheeks. And the flush smarting my skin.

“You are hungry, right Alice? I mean we could always go somewhere else if you’re not,” a single finger of his lifted up my chin slowly. “And if you don’t like this place then we’ll leave, we can go anywhere at all.” His eyes were smouldering, his expression worried, and my heart exploded within my chest. “We can go anywhere you want.”

I shook my head and laughed a little at how fussy he was being. Honestly, the boy could have taken me to a dump and I would have loved every second of it. He still underestimated my feelings for him and I couldn’t blame him – when had I ever been outwardly affectionate? It wasn’t in me to prance around and confess some fake love, but the look in his eyes made me cup his cheek in my palm and trail a thumb over his slight stubble.

If someone would have told me I’d be in this exact position with Vaughn Hart just four months ago, I would have told them they were crazy. And that they were cruel. Because it just made no sense. He could have anyone in the whole world, any girl would fall at his feet and make love to him and give him everything he could ever want. I was barely pretty with no hope of being anything more, born without a love-believing bone in my body. But it seemed to make perfect sense to Vaughn.

“Here is just fine,” I smiled at the fool.

“They do have the best pasta in town,” he nodded slowly “Mom used to take me out here every weekend. She thought it was vital to maintain a positive relationship between mother and son,” he rolled the words off of his tongue in a monotone, as if simply reciting the line.

“Didn’t you enjoy it?” I sensed there was something more behind what he’d said – there always was with Vaughn. He didn’t like to just state things, didn’t like to draw attention to himself. It was impossible though, someone should have told him, with a face like his.

“I used to love it, as dorky as that sounds. Mom never used to be so uptight and regiment, she never intentionally let me break rules just so that she wouldn’t feel guilty. I was a good kid with good grades, and Mom loved me for that.”

I rested my head on his shoulder as we waited. An arm wound around my waist. I wanted to take away all of Vaughn’s angst, all of that stupid thinking which he did too much of, and just make him forget the present. Here, there was no future, with him, there was no past. And I felt what Vaughn had been trying to tell me that day. I felt Vaughn and only his body pressed into my side, his warmth like a blanket covering half of me.

“That guy over there has been staring at you for the last five minutes,” Vaughn whispered into my hair, making me follow his gaze to a man sitting at the bar area. I didn’t recognise him but felt an abrupt blush crawl up my neck when I caught the gaze he had focused on me. Even when our eyes met he kept staring, unabashed.

Then he smiled a dark smile, his expression just screaming trouble. I chose to bury my face in Vaughn neck so I wouldn’t have to get involved but the boy’s body beside me was strained. Both of his arms curled around my waist.

“Don’t,” I warned him “just calm down.”

He took in long, deep breaths, over exaggerated no doubt for my sake. Vaughn was still shaking somewhat and his own eyes never left the man. He was like an animal in these moments, raw instinct and pure defence. I touched his arms still around me, silently communicating that I wouldn’t leave him.

“Table for two?” the stout waitress finally approached us, seemingly oblivious to the suffocating tension in the air.

“Yes, us,” I turned to her and smiled a big everthing’s-just-fine smile. The smile was as familiar to me as the emotions always attached with it.

We followed her, me tugging Vaughn along as he reluctantly dropped his gaze from the man. We were seated in the corner booth, a candle crudely stuck between us. I wasn’t about to complain about how little legroom we had, how the window beside me was freezing to the touch, or how the knives laid out weren’t entirely clean. I hadn’t been out for a meal in over a year, and the memories of dinners in restaurants I had weren’t exactly pleasant. Being here with Vaughn was nice. More than nice. Perfect.

The waitress placed menus into our hands before retreating to some beckoning customer. The lists of food seemed endless, the smell of food overpowering. I was getting hungrier by the second and yet I couldn’t make myself really look at the menu. My mind was too absorbed in the boy across from me who was wrinkling his nose up in concentration.

I watched him with a growing smile. Nobody else saw him like this. When he was caring, and protective, and intense, and all mine. I’d never thought I could call Vaughn Hart cute. Intimidating, maybe, and bad-ass definitely, but never cute.

Yet here he was with his scrunched up nose and bitten lip in a white vest top, driving me insane. I reached over the table and took hold of his hand wrapped around the menu. He peered up at me and smiled the most contagious smile I’d ever known. There were butterflies in my stomach. I was a child again. He made me a child again.

“You should take a picture,” he winked “it’ll last longer.”

I rolled my eyes and finally turned my attention to the menu. But then I replayed his words in my head, and found there was a meaning deeper than just an overused catchphrase. When I glanced at him his face told me he’d noticed it too.

“You should stop that you know,” I informed him.

“Stop what?”

“Don’t think I don’t remember all those subtle hints and casually thrown out phrases. Questioning that we have all the time in the world? Telling yourself that you’re just going to add to my problems? And now telling me to take a picture because it will last longer? Please Vaughn, just stop it.”

He turned away to stare out the window, so dark outside from the night that all that was visible was our own reflection. I sighed and took my hand out of his only to have him curl our fingers together, trapping me.

“I don’t mean to… I don’t want to ruin this moment or any other it’s just… it’s just so hard to leave some problems at home. I can’t stop looking at you and wondering how long it will be until I’m strapped to a hospital bed, choked up with drugs, not able to see my own hands let alone you.”

I shook my head as if to defend myself against his words, as if that would stop them from sinking in. I realised in that moment this was the first real time he’d spoken about his illness freely to me and it was scary. Scarier than I had anticipated.

“Who says you’d want to see my face anyway,” I tried to smirk “I’d probably come in with my hair a mess and no makeup on.”

“I sure hope you would sweetheart,” Vaughn didn’t smile as he turned back to me. And I knew he was deadly serious.

“Are you kids ready to order?” our waitress had materialised beside us and was grinning far too keenly. I recognised it as something Vivi flashed customers of the coffee shop every Saturday, one I’d never been quite able to master.

“Can you give us a few more minutes?” I asked when Vaughn remained silent. She retreated again, leaving us in our bubble of awkward silence. My hand in his was burning up and I desperately wanted to pull away, but the look on his face was so vulnerable that I daren’t even move.

“Vaughn, you know that you don’t have to see death in everything. You don’t have to look at this date and think ‘oh wow I’d better make the most of the time we have left’. You can’t do that to yourself. You can’t do that to me.”

His thumb began to rub circles on the back of my hand. I kept my eyes firmly locked with his, wanting more than anything for him to be happy. Wanting for him to believe, even for just a split second, that he was normal and healthy.

“I love you Alice,” he said firmly, “and I do want to make the most of you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I am.”

“Stop it,” I hissed.

“I’m sorry,” he bowed his head. “I’m ruining tonight, I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Don’t be sorry. Please don’t apologise to me.”

He shook his head before moving it back up, meeting my eyes. “You don’t understand how much I just want to make you happy Alice.”

My mind flashed back to how I’d thought that just minutes earlier. I’d wanted nothing more than for Vaughn to be happy, and here he was telling me the exact same thing.

“You know what would make me happy right now?” I asked quietly.

He quirked an eyebrow at me.

“If my boyfriend would take me for a ride on the back of his motorcycle.”

And that was all it took to bring out Vaughn’s smile once again. I basked in it as he tugged me out of the booth, past the delicious taunting smells of food, past the hot eyes of the man at the bar, past the small line of couples waiting their turn to be served. Out in the cool night air, he wrapped an arm around my waist so his heat crept into me.

“I should really get a helmet for you,” he whispered “possibly something pink.”

I’d told him all about El’s choice of bridesmaid dresses, leaving out her break down about her dad, and so he was well educated on how I despised the colour. Instead of replying I just pinched his side lightly. He laughed heartily, his leather jacket rubbing against my skin.

We were on his bike and off in a matter of seconds. It was here I knew Vaughn completely let go of his illness, of his troubles, as we blurred along the highway. I clung to him, unwilling to ever let go, and watched the world become one big beautiful picture.