These Butterflies

The front door is unlocked.

Dread fills every inch of my being as I turn the knob, unsure of what to expect but sure that it won’t be pleasant. Someone’s going to be waiting for me, and I’ve got nothing to say that they want to hear. I push the door and gulp quietly, stepping inside. I pray silently that Alex won’t be in there. He’s the last person I want to see. Well, he was and then I realized I was wrong. There’s one other person in this world I’d rather be away from than him.

Melissa is walking down the stairs and smiles at me sheepishly when she sees me. Matt appears from the direction of the kitchen.

“What is she doing here?” I ask him.

“Milan! Where have you been? Are you okay? You look awful! What were you thinking?” He rushes over to me, completely ignoring my question.

“Where’s Alex?” I ask, immediately regretting the question. For a moment I wished he were here to give me answers but I should know by now that it never ends. He’ll never stop disappointing me. He’ll never stop going back to her. He’s probably upstairs anyways. I can already picture him letting her comfort him only seconds before now.

Melissa reaches the floor when she answers my question. “Alex is still out looking for you…” She looks like she wants to say something more and hesitates slightly. “And I’m just here to help. I heard you were missing. I just…” She trails off.

I look away from her, not even sure what to think. I realize Matt is examining the cut on my arm. I was so focused on Melissa that I didn’t even realize he reached me. “Milan, that looks like it stings. Come here, let me fix you up.” He starts pulling me toward the living room, probably wanting to head into the downstairs restroom with the first aid kit. I twist out of his grip.

“Seriously, I’m fine. I just want to be alone,” I tell him. I just want to go straight to my shower and wash off all of Connor’s kisses.

I run upstairs, pushing past Melissa, barely missing her. I’m practically stumbling over my feet. I sprint into the second door on my left, my bedroom. I lock the door behind me and then I run into the bathroom and lock the door leading into Alex’s room. I kneel beside the tub and turn the knobs until the faucet threatens to begin trembling from the water trying to force its way through. The worried voices on the other side of the locked doors suddenly become audible. “Milan, let us in!” “We only want to help!” “Just please open the door!” I go into my room and turn my stereo on. I raise the volume until I can’t hear any of them anymore. I feel guilty for being so selfish, but I also feel betrayed and I don’t care. I practically tear off my ruined dress and step into the tub. I stop the water just as it reaches the rim.

I lean back and take in a deep breath. It feels almost surreal. I feel like it’s been a million years since I had a perfectly good moment to just lean back and take in a deep breath.

When I realize I have all the privacy in the world, I start to cry. I cry for so many reasons, but mostly because I almost let someone other than Alex make love to me. How could I have ever been so stupid and desperate to let someone like Connor taste my neck and my shoulders and my lips? I shiver at the thought. I grab my body loofah and drench it in body wash. Two nights ago, my body belonged to Alex. I was all his, and I was supposed to be his forever. But I got so caught up in myself that I almost fell into Connor’s trap. I rub furiously at my legs, my stomach, and anywhere else I let his hands caress. I can still feel his touch and it’s too much too bear that I start to scream. When I realize I can’t hear myself screaming over the music, I start screaming and crying even louder. There’s no other way to explain how it feels except… good. It feels so good that I don’t stop until my stomach is throbbing from the effort, my eyes are burning from the tears, and my throat has been strained raw from the screaming. I don’t know how long it took. Maybe an hour. Maybe five hours. Maybe five minutes. But now I’m done and my shoulders and my stomach and my legs have been rubbed pink, free of Connor’s touch, and I just want to lay here in the water with nothing left in me. I’m exhausted.

The music hasn’t stopped. A soft song is playing:

Well I've lost it all,
I'm just a silhouette,
A lifeless face that you'll soon forget,
My eyes are damp
from the words you left,
Ringing in my head,
when you broke my chest

I sigh deeply and hold as much air as I can in my lungs. I close my eyes and slide my head under the water. I hold my breath until my head starts to feel light. It seems silly, but when I’m underwater I feel like I’m in a completely different world and that I don’t belong to this one. I hold my breath for as long as I can so I can forget everything, even if it’s for a little while. I forget about my stupidly attractive brother that I’m so madly, hopelessly in love with. I forget about all the times I’ve watched him fall in love with someone else. I forget about all the times he’s been mad at me even though he was just trying to protect me from Connor. I forget about the first time I kissed him and he rejected me. I forget about the best night of my life, when he told me he loved me and then let me give him everything, not caring when I reminded him that we had the same flesh and blood. I forget his persistence that it was all a huge mistake. I forget that he went back to his ex-girlfriend last night even though he swore he loved me more. I forget all of that until my head starts to hurt. I take my head out of the water and suck in a mouthful of air. A different song is playing. I’ve been underwater for a few minutes.

I decide I’ve had enough privacy for the day. I pull the plug out of the drain, step onto the bathroom rug, and wrap myself in a towel. It stings a little. My skin is still pink from my intense scrubbing. I walk into my room and hum along to my favorite song as I pull on an oversized shirt then striped pajama shorts. I take in a nervous breath as I walk over to my stereo and silence the music. It takes less than a minute before there’s a knock on my door. I brace myself.

“Who is it?” I say.

“It’s me, Chris. Can I come in?”

I hesitate, but then I remember he doesn’t know about Alex and me and besides, he’s usually tied at second place with Matt on my list of best friends but considering everything that’s happened in the past couple of days, he’s definitely Best Friend #1 right now. “Fine, but only you,” I finally respond. I hear arguing whispers on the other side of my door. “Only you, Chris. Promise, or else no one comes in.”

“Okay, okay. Only me. Promise,” he says.

I decide to trust him and I go to unlock my door. Chris stands in the center of a little group. I try not to make eye contact with my mom, my dad, Matt, and especially not Melissa. Of course, I somehow manage to glance at Alex. His eyes tear into mine, begging me to talk to him but I pull Chris inside and lock my door once again before those dreamy chocolate pools have any effect on me. Chris seats himself on the corner of my mattress.

“Why don’t you want to talk to any of them?”

I sigh and walk over to my dresser for no particular reason except to get Chris out of my view because for some reason getting him out of my sight makes me feel less guilty for keeping things from him. “I just don’t, okay? It’s complicated.”

“Well, at least speak to Alex,” he says. I cringe at the sound of his name. “He’s really sorry for whatever he did. He was out all night looking for you and he didn’t come back until we called him letting him know you were here. He’s dying to talk to you. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“You can tell him I’m fine. I don’t want to see him,” I say. And it’s true. I’m fine and I don’t want to see him.