Stories from the Back of His Motorcycle

Jack stopped the car at the beginning to Vaughn’s long drive, both of them staring in awe at the house connected to the end of it. They didn’t know it wasn’t mine but I think they both assumed it wasn’t. I was just Alice Thornberry, nobody special. Only someone special could live in a house like that, someone like Vaughn Hart. My heart shuddered again within my rib cage as I held back the temptation to run. I only had eyes for the pristine front door as I swung myself from the stationary car.

I barely waved to them as they pulled away, almost forgetting them completely. Memories bombarded me as I walked as fast as I could up their long drive. Memories of me crying into Vaughn’s chest. Memories of wrapping my arms firmly around him after we’d dismounted his motorcycle. Memories of escaping him and his mother, then holding him all over again. I felt stupid for ever letting him go.

I couldn’t see his motorcycle anywhere but then I soothed my pumping adrenaline by guessing it was probably in one of the garages. He was no doubt inside, sleeping body splayed on his bed after his alarm clock had failed. He was probably wasting his time now that he was late, doing nothing more than relaxing. And here I was, hyperventilating, on his doorstep.

I knocked quickly and sharply, scared if I didn’t get it done straight away I’d never muster up the nerve to try again. There was nothing I could do after that except wait, making my stomach fold in on itself and my joints become soft. In the glass panel beside the door I watched a distorted figure approach, my knocking probably echoing around their empty house like it was echoing around my body.

The door swung in and a bleary eyed Vaughn smiled at me in a way I couldn’t quite understand. But it didn’t matter. I hardly noticed. I just flung myself at him and wrapped myself into him as if just the power of my arms could keep us together. He let out a wobbly chuckle before coiling me even closer.

“I’m pleased to see you too Alice,” he murmured, tripping over the words.

The stench of alcohol hit me square in the face as he leant down to kiss me, his normally sweet breathe making me bolt backwards. I squinted at him carefully and remembered where I’d seen that smile of his before, pulling myself completely out of his arms with a grimace. At Josh’s party all those months ago where Vaughn had almost collapsed he was so drunk he’d worn the smile proudly, like a badge of honour. He didn’t care that all those people had seen him at his lowest, he was too far gone to even notice. But I could remember it. See it on him now. The only difference was that only I was here to watch him make himself sick this time.

“What are you doing Vaughn?” I let the frustration give me energy, feeding off of it as I passed him and pulled him along too. The door shut loudly. I’d slammed it without even realising. Vaughn jumped with shock, forcing my body to almost barrel into his just to keep him upright. He weighed more than I could handle but that didn’t stop me from half-carrying-half-dragging him into the large lounge area.

He flopped on one of the leather couches, the sound of it becoming eerie around the grand room. I quickly acknowledged the wide fireplace, two chandeliers, expensive furniture, and wondered how it was possible to have so much money. The Hart’s certainly knew how to create a perfect show house that would go for millions, leaving me nervous to set one foot on the probably priceless rug Vaughn had almost fallen on. It wasn’t even my house and I was anxious for it, especially with a drunk Vaughn running around.

It was easy to trace his guilt – the only imperfect things in the room. Beer bottles and a large bottle of half-empty vodka were settled on the coffee table, used glasses scattered around them. I frowned at the amount I could only assume he’d drunk, feeling sick myself as if I’d consumed it too.

Tentatively, dipping my toes onto the carpet after pulling off my shoes, I made my way over to Vaughn who was murmuring soft incoherent words to nothing in particular. He was like a baby when drunk. Completely useless and needing. I hated to see his usually invincible mask slip away for the world to glimpse his soft underbelly. I was glad that, at least today, nobody else would see it too.

“What is wrong with you?” I muttered angrily, standing before the couch to watch him twitch. “Just what the hell were you thinking?” They weren’t questions I was expecting answers to – not when Vaughn was so incapacitated – but they still fell from my mouth like water. I needed to get them out there. To be able to say that at least I tried to find out why, to instil some guilt into him. He’d left me this morning for booze and a cheap escape. That still burned.

“You look pretty today Alice.”

His eyes examined me sloppily, blurring where I began and his walls ended. I felt my face burn with embarrassment. At the glaring skirt I’d thought would impress him and the extra make-up I’d hoped would. All for a drunk boy who would have told anyone they looked pretty today, anyone unfortunate enough to be standing before him, cold stone sober.

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes, trying to control the fury spreading its way through my veins. I had to remain calm in this situation. There was no use in hurling insults and accusations at someone who would barely understand that you were talking to them.

“Have you changed your hair?” he cocked his head from where it lay on the dark leather so he was staring at me through an even more disjointed angle. I was too deep in shame to inform him that my hair was the only thing I hadn’t changed for him so instead shot him the best glare I could muster at such short notice.

“How much have you had to drink Vaughn?”

He shrugged, shoulders squeaking against leather “not much.”

I scoffed and settled myself at the far end of the large couch; as far as I could get my body away from his without being too far that I wouldn’t be able to catch him if he decided to take another tumble. Suddenly, drunken Delia seemed tame in comparison to drunken Vaughn – at least she was lighter so I could carry her without sagging into the ground. The morning had already left me emotionally drained and the prospect of playing nanny for an eighteen year-old didn’t appeal. At all.

“Are you mad Alice?” he mumbled.

“No,” I said through gritted teeth “disappointed.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Well maybe you should start listening to her.”

“But she doesn’t understand. Dad doesn’t either. Nobody understands,” he groaned, burying his face into the plush cushions.

“Plenty of people try to understand you Vaughn, you’re the one that pushes them away and does stupid things like get drunk. How can anyone understand you when you’re slurring words and falling over everything?” I pointedly crossed my arms, forgetting that I was dealing with a not-so-sober Vaughn who wouldn’t understand the frustration drowning amid every pore of me.

“Do you understand Alice?”

I sighed loudly and closed my heavy eyes. Of course he wouldn’t listen to a word I said, did I really expect him to? Of course I was just wasting my breath and doing nothing productive with it, but then what could I do? Sober him up alone with my words?

“Alice?” he whispered closer than I had thought he was, forcing my eyes to crack open and watch him. He was crawling ungracefully backwards, inching nearer with every push his hands made. I didn’t even flinch when he settled his head on my thigh and let out a long breath. I could almost see his sigh float into the air above us, wrinkling my nose when the faint smell of alcohol hit me again.

“Alice?” he repeated, charcoal eyes blinking up into mine. I couldn’t help but let my tight lips twitch up slightly at the sight of him, so adorable and wanting with his dark hair spread out over my skirt. “Can you keep another secret for me?”

That perked my interest. I stopped my subtle admiring of the boy to muster up a sincere look. I would always keep Vaughn’s secrets; push them up to my chest so they lay beside my heart. They were hidden and locked and kept. I cherished them as much as I resented them, feeling their weight and loving their depth all at the same time. His secrets weren’t like Delia’s. They were never about boys or clothes or her sister. They meant a lot more, universes more.

“Yes Vaughn, I can.”

He smirked and moved himself further up the couch again so his head was properly in my lap. I repressed the urge to roll my eyes as his smirk melted into a childish grin, proud that he’d manoeuvred himself without any help and into my lap no less. I could tell he’d gotten off track.

“Your secret…” I prompted, letting curiosity get the better of me.

And his face fell so quickly that I instantly regretted letting it. My hands moved of their own accord into his hair, playing with the ends as if to soothe him once more. The strands fell through my fingers over and over again as I all but massaged his scalp.

“Alice,” Vaughn moaned, half-lidded eyes filling me up and causing a hot flush to bloom across my cheeks. I had only meant to soothe him and yet found I’d had quite a different effect with my gentle fingers. He groaned again, louder, more guttural, and I stopped abruptly. Now I was the reason he was getting off track.

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded. I almost gave in at just the tone of his voice when I felt a hand of his own creep up my arm and caress my top’s strap down my shoulder. With Vaughn bleary and drunk I had no doubt where he was meaning for this to go and the very thought of it had me flushed in ways I didn’t know I could be flushed.

But I was putting a stop to it, moving his arm back down to his side and re-adjusting my straps with a stony face. Not with Vaughn when he was drunk, I wasn’t going to think about it, even if his bedroom eyes were burning me with their intensity. I didn’t know drunken people could be so focused on something, it seemed this was the first thing Vaughn had wanted the entire time I’d seen him in this state.

“What secret?” I asked forcefully. I couldn’t help but be worried it was another bombshell, similar to the last he had dropped on me. Nothing could be worse than that I was sure but Vaughn had got surprising me down to an art. I didn’t want him to surprise me this time.

“How long do you think it would take for me to get you out of that skirt?” he mused “I’d say ten seconds tops.”

“Vaughn,” I raised my voice “what secret?”

“Secret?” he seemed confused “I have secrets? I’m actually a very open person Alice; do you not know me at all?”

I didn’t even bother humouring him, knowing it would all be lost on him in his drunken stupor. He turned his head slightly and I just assumed he was shifting, trying to get more comfortable. Then I felt his hot breath cascading on my bare legs where the skirt had ridden up, goose-bumps forming instantaneously. I was flushed again just as quickly. The heat crawled up my neck, down my thighs, around my lower stomach.

“Stop it,” I nudged him with my legs so his head turned around again in my lap.

“Does it turn you on?” his smirk was evil.

“No,” I squirmed as I felt a warm hand clamp onto my bare knee “you’re drunk Vaughn.”

“And?”

The hand trailed up my leg slowly and suddenly it was impossible to swallow, my throat as dry as any desert. I tried to reach out and slap him away but Vaughn had other ideas. In one fluid movement he was sat up straight, legs mingling with mine as one hand of his clasped both of mine together. His face, only centimetres away, was moving closer and his alcohol breath forced me to hold mine in, my lungs protesting indignantly.

“What secret are you hiding from me Vaughn?” I dared to whisper.

I saw the recognition of what I’d said sink into him. His lust darkened eyes misted over and the grip on me loosened so I was able to free my arms. He dipped his face into my neck where heavy puffs of air tickled my skin. He kissed me one, twice, always soft and careful. I wrapped my own arms around his torso and rested my cheek on the top of his dark head.

We stayed like that for some time, Vaughn occasionally leaving kisses on the sensitive parts of my neck and me letting the burning feeling inside subside slowly. I’d never felt quite like that before with a boy and I was embarrassed to admit to myself just what he evoked. Just him teasing me had left my heart a flutter and cheeks scorched. I didn’t want to think about what he could do to me if we’d taken it to new levels, and at the same time my mind wouldn’t leave it alone.

“The hospital called,” he murmured into my skin, so low that I almost didn’t catch his words. And when I did my entire body froze solid. Even when he didn’t elaborate I stayed silent, trying to thaw myself out from the shock and horror and fear. I had to be patient with him now even if patience had never been my strength.

“They say that I’m at the top of the donor list now. They say I might be able to have a heart transplant which could save my life.”

It took all of three seconds for my body to re-alight. And when it did I squealed like a little girl, tackling Vaughn back into the sofa so we lay tangled together. This was the hope I’d been waiting for, patience finally paying off. This would undoubtedly make Vaughn better, cure him forever, make him mine for more than just some unpredictable months, half a year if I was lucky.

“When Vaughn? When are you getting this operation done?”

“I don’t know-.”

“-Surely there’s limited time or something,” I cut him off excitedly.

“They haven’t found me a donor just yet Alice.”

“But they will. God, this is such good news, some good news at last! Aren’t you freaking out? This means you don’t have to die from any heart disease, this means you don’t have to die from anything but old age!”

“Oh, I’m freaking out alright,” he replied glumly from where he was pressed back against the couch. I pushed myself off of him slightly to fully gage his unhappy expression, still twisted with the effects of alcohol.

“Why aren’t you happy about this?” I asked, finally coming down from my high.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes no matter how hotly I focused on them. He hiccupped quietly and started to sit up, pushing me away softly. I watched him suspiciously. I couldn’t find any reason in my logical mind as to why he wouldn’t be as happy about it as me, if not happier. This meant a chance at life again. This meant that he could go back to being a normal teenage boy.

“It’s difficult to explain, I’m trying to find the right words.”

He sounded a lot soberer than he had minutes ago and I guessed it had a lot to do with the sobering thoughts racing almost visibly behind those dark eyes. I was frowning, trying, trying to understand but not quite comprehending. This was good news and yet he was taking it like it was bad.

“You see… even if a donor is found for me, located and brought to the nearest hospital… I… I don’t know if I’ll actually accept it.”

“There’s always the chance of your body rejecting it,” I nodded, finally managing to get my head around him. He wasn’t unhappy he was just anxious.

“No,” he shook his head slowly and looked so deep into my eyes with so much upset that it was hard to repress the sudden need to cry. “No, it’s not that my body will reject it. It’s that I won’t accept it, I’ll turn the donation down.”

I just blinked. Stupidly. And my throat was even dried than before, my fingers beginning to tremble. Of course Vaughn was joking. There was no way anyone would turn down an opportunity like that – it was just absurd! This could be his last chance to live.

“What do you mean Vaughn?” I hated how vulnerable my voice sounded. Like a young teenage girls asking where the family’s hamster had disappeared to. I hated how raw I was with him.

“God, I got drunk to forget this Alice,” he moaned and ran a hand through some stray dark hair. “I mean that I might say no to the donation. I mean that I don’t think I want one at all.”