Credit goes to Natasha Fogarty. She does not have a computer to upload this, and since this is a piece we are co-writing, and since I had permission, I uploaded this for review.
3: Natasha
Even as we pulled up to my house I was still shaken by the sight of a man in the road who had appeared to be half dead. I knew Andrew had taken notice, for he had slowed to gape at the gruesome sight of him. The gory image would be forever seared into my memory. I swallowed, but it did little to clear my extremely dry throat. I felt as if I'd retch at any moment. Andrew showed no signs of unease, which made me wonder if my eyes had betrayed me.
The car came to a stop. "We're here," he said quietly with obvious hopes of breaking yet another tension-filled silence.
My lame attempt at a smile turned out to be more of a grimace. I turned for a hasty exit to mask my displeasure. After departing the vehicle, I found myself easily comforted by the thought of having my beloved Andrew for an entire week. A small grin graced my face. As I walked around, I smiled a bit shyly at him. His warmth seemed to call to me, and the need to be in his arms again overwhelmed me. The need to soak up as much of his touch that I could before we began yet another agonizingly long wait. Before we were torn from each other’s grasps for who knew how long. That's how it mostly was, not knowing when we'd be able to hold each other again. It was hard, but we agreed on the fact that it would be well worth it in the end.
He stepped forward, wrapping me into a careful embrace. "I love you," he whispered, breath tickling my ear.
"I love you too," I sighed happily. It took much effort to keep myself from squeezing the living daylights out of him. He then pulled back slightly, capturing my lips with his. My hand moved--as if possessed-- to cup his cheek, and I smiled as I slipped into ecstasy. The feel of Andrew's lips on mine made my head spin and left me breathless. Lost in my happiness, this moment of pure bliss. I'd forgotten the man in the road almost entirely. Being in Andrew's arms was enough to make all of the bad disappear. I pulled away to smile brightly at him.
"Can you believe we have a whole week of that?" he asked excitedly. An adorable smile lingered on his face. I didn't answer his seemingly rhetorical question; instead I led him through the empty garage into my home. Loving the feel of his fingers laced with mine.
Beyond the short hallway leading to the kitchen, I discovered the house had been trashed. Cabinets were open, some emptied, and drawers pulled out, furniture disarray. I gasped, looking to Andrew who appeared to be equally puzzled. "Give me a moment?" I asked as politely as I could, and pulled out my phone.
"Of course." He replied with a nod. He loosened his grip on my hand exponentially.
I began to pace while dialing my dad's number. Moments later I heard the ringing from behind me where his phone sat on the bookcase. I shook my head, typical dad, I thought. My stepmom's number sped across my screen next, but went straight to voicemail. Nick's did the same. "What the hell?" I grumbled. My pacing ceased and I stood in the middle of the living room, staring at my cellular device with a furrowed brow.
Andrew's arms circled me from behind. "Try again later?" he offered into my hair.
I turned in his arms to face him. "What if someone broke in? What if something happened to them?" I asked in a somewhat dejected tone.
"I... I don't know. I'm sure they're fine," he replied hesitantly.
I tore from our embrace to pace again as I dialed 911. I found the line to be busy, and the recording of a woman's robotic voice asked politely for me to try again later. "What? Can that even happen?!" I cried frustratedly. Though he was trying to be serious, a little smile betrayed Andrew's handsome face. Had I not been so worried, I'd probably have been smiling back at him. I raked a nervous hand through my dark hair, casting him a tortured look. "What do I do?"
"We," he corrected, "Search the house. See if anything is missing. If nothing is, we'll take it from there." He grabbed my left hand, lifting it to softly kiss my knuckles.
My brow furrowed and I yanked my hand away. "That's all?!" I huffed. He shrugged; a pained expression crossed his face as a result of my callous behavior. I knew he was getting the short end of the stick. He was only there to visit me, to love me, and there I was taking out my nerve-induced anger on him. "I'm sorry, Andrew." I whispered.
"It's all right, my love," he said with a smile. "I don't blame you for worrying; I would be too if I were in your position."
I sighed. "I just... I don't think I can feel safe here." I looked into his eyes, finding sympathy in those oceanic depths. Words could not describe how grateful I was to have him there with me. To have him at all was a dream come true in my eyes. From the day I met him, he captivated me. Andrew was unlike anyone I had ever met, he was everything I could have dreamed of and more. His intelligence, wit, kindness, humor, and understanding never failed to astound me.
He tenderly cupped my cheek in his hand. "Then we will go somewhere else," he murmured, kissing me softly.
"Where?" I wondered. Andrew didn't exactly live nearby. That was an understatement; our vast distance was pretty painful. No matter how much I wished to be with him always, we had to wait for adulthood who felt it fit to take its sweet time. Needless to say, his house wasn't really an option at the moment.
He shrugged again, "We'll find a place, Natasha." He held me close and promised me he'd always be there for me, and I believed him. I'm not sure how long we stood that way, but I didn't really care. I allowed myself to get lost in his touch. No matter how worried and afraid I was, I felt comforted by the fact that I had Andrew to lean on. "Let's go pack some of your stuff."
I nodded. Together we went downstairs to my room to where I packed enough for a week, give or take a few days. It was nothing new to me, over the years I had become a pro at packing. I did it nearly every week of my life going back and forth between mommy and daddy. The joys of divorce. I slung my backpack over a shoulder and held the other bag as I turned to Andrew. "All set." I said.
He smiled, and I politely declined his offer to help carry something. "All right, let's go." As we walked upstairs he said, "Weird day, huh? I wish the school or someone would have given us a real explanation or at least something." I remained silent. He held the garage door open for me.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"You're quite welcome, darling." he replied with a nod. I followed Andrew to his car, putting my things in with his in the back. After fastening my seatbelt and checking my phone, he proceeded to pull out to the edge of the driveway.
"So have you figured out where we're going yet?" I asked him softly. I let my hand fall to his knee, wanting to have some sort of connection to him.
"Hmm..." He turned to me and grinned. "Left or right?"
I smiled back. "Left." I answered.
"Left it is," he said, leaving my driveway and turning onto the road. I watched my home disappear behind me, and for some reason I felt the urge to wave goodbye.
