Ruin Read online

  Before I know it, my lips have locked with hers.

  I don’t know why I’m kissing her.

  Well, other than the fact that I’ve been madly in love with her all this time.

  She was just perfect.

  Perfect, just the way she is.

  Her scrunched-up face and rosy lips … just had to be kissed.

  So I did it.

  I’m actually kissing Maybell Fairweather.

  I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve only ever kissed one other girl, and that was in kindergarten. I have no fucking clue, but I hope I’m doing it right. She isn’t stopping me or pushing me away, so that’s a good thing. Right?

  But damn, she tastes so sweet, and her lips are so soft.

  No wonder everyone likes to do this so much.

  It feels like it lasts forever.

  After a while, she needs to take a breath, and our lips unlock. Her eyes wide and her lips parted, still swollen, heavy, much like mine, and all I can think of is kissing her again.

  Is it so wrong to want the thing I shouldn’t have?

  She tucks a strand of her wild hair behind her ear, her cheeks turning red as a strawberry, but I like the color. I can’t stop looking at her, but it’s growing awfully silent too. She’s still so close to me; I can feel her warm breath tingle on my skin.

  “This?” I murmur, as an answer to her question.

  She bites her lip to stop herself from smiling. “I …”

  Her smile only makes me feel more bold, so I place my hand on her cheek and pull her even closer. “I just want to make you happy.”

  I lean in again and press another soft kiss on her lips, the touch exhilarating me. Goose bumps scatter across my skin as I taste her on my lips. My blood rushes through my body to the only spot it can go to, the sudden burst of greed filling me. My pants tighten as my dick flinches from her lips alone.

  God, I need to stop. This isn’t right.

  With all the willpower I can muster, I unlatch my lips from hers, her taste still lingering on my tongue. I can smell her perfume too, the scent rubbed off on my cheeks and neck, and it’s making me giddy. Horny.

  Fuck.

  I clear my throat as we both turn red as a beet.

  “Well …” I get up from the bench and turn away for a second to cool down my manly parts. I even think of the delusional grandpa she has for a neighbor just so I can rid myself of this hard-on. Anything to make it go away quicker.

  When I’ve cooled down, I turn to her and smile. She’s still looking at me. Her lips still parted, her face still in shock mode. I can only hope my guess was right, but I won’t ask. I’ll let her decide.

  So I hold out my hand and say, “Let’s go back inside.”

  For a second, she just stares at me, then my hand, and then me again.

  Her hand slowly reaches for mine.

  Our fingers entangle.

  The tip of her lips points upward.

  That’s when I know.

  Homebound

  Maybell

  A few days later

  Finally, it’s time to go home.

  I’ve been waiting so long for this day; I could scream it from the rooftops.

  The doctor’s finally discharging me today. The nurses told me I’m well enough to be back home, although they do want to give me some pointers as to how to take care of my leg. I’m getting a few booklets and medicine. Oh … and I’ll have to start injecting myself in the stomach every damn day.

  The nurses normally do this, but now that I’m going home, someone has to take over, and that person is me. I’m not looking forward to jabbing myself in the stomach with a needle, but I’ll do it if I have to.

  It’s so the blood in my leg won’t clot and cause an aneurysm or something. I don’t know. Just as long as it’s getting better, I’m good. I’ll have to keep injecting that stuff until I’m allowed to put pressure on my leg again, which is in a few weeks.

  Until then, I’ll have to stay on the couch.

  I’m not looking forward to it, but at least it’s better than lying in a hospital bed with a senile neighbor who wakes up screaming about burning chickens in the middle of the night. Yes, that actually happened, and no, I don’t want to remember it.

  “Got everything?” Dad asks.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I say, looking around the room.

  I swerve in my wheelchair and say a mental goodbye to this room, hoping I never come back. Then I look over at my neighbor, who’s still staring at his newspaper from five days ago, probably not realizing he’s already read it twenty times. “Bye!” I say to him.

  He waves slowly, his eyes droopy, but there’s a genuine smile on his face.

  I turn around and go out the door with my parents. The nurse comes to greet me. “Hey, Maybell! So great to see you’re going home.”

  “Yeah, I’m happy they finally allowed me to go back to my own home. Finally, my own bed.” A small moan slips from my mouth. “Can’t wait.”

  She smiles. “And no more hospital food.”

  “Exactly.” I look at my dad. “Quick, give me a sock so I can stuff it in my books and pretend to be Dobby!”

  He makes a face and frowns. “I have no idea what a Dobby is.”

  “It’s from Harry Potter … you know, that book I used to read a lot,” I whisper to him.

  The nurse laughs. “Oh, May … we’re gonna miss you.”

  I hug her tight. “Me too. Well, actually … I hope I never come back here.” I stick out my tongue. “If you know what I mean.”

  “Of course, we hope that too for all our patients.” She winks. “So that boy I’ve seen hanging out your room … is he’s gonna help you around the house?”

  The air suddenly trapped in my lungs, I almost choke on my own saliva. “What?”

  “What boy?” my dad says.

  I quickly recapture my voice. “No one, Dad. He’s just a volunteer.” I eye the nurse as I roll away in my wheelchair.

  “Bye, Maybell!” she yells.

  “Bye!” I turn to my dad and yell, “Are you coming?”

  “What volunteer was she talking about?” he asks me as he catches up.

  I sigh and smile to myself. “I’ll tell you later.”

  I’m not interested in telling my dad yet.

  Maybe later … but for now, it’s my little secret that I hold dear to my heart.

  ***

  Alexander

  I couldn’t show up at her room today.

  Not when I knew she was being discharged. It was just too awkward with her parents being there … and with me being a volunteer who’s supposed to be working, instead of getting it on with one of the patients.

  God, I’m an idiot.

  How did I let it get this far?

  I kissed her.

  I fucking kissed her, and she didn’t even stop me.

  It was magical. Wonderful. Out of this world. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  But if anyone finds out … I’m screwed.

  I turn around on my bed and stare at the TV. The news captures my attention as a loud male voice talks about a collision between two cars. They show footage of the wreckage on the road, and it makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  I wonder if they broadcast every accident like this.

  If they broadcasted hers.

  I immediately jump up and get on my computer, opening a tab to go to YouTube. There, I type in her name and the words ‘car crash.’ A few hits come up, but I don’t see anything that looks alike until I scroll down … and see my own face.

  My pupils dilate as I press the video and watch as I talk to the camera.

  It showed up at the scene about fifteen minutes before the ambulance had arrived. I didn’t know what to do, so I rambled on and on about what I’d seen.

  I was in shock.

  But back then, I never realized that what I said would be on the internet for all
eternity.

  And for her to find.

  I quickly close my browser and scoot back, my heart racing in my throat.

  A part of me wants to reach out to a hacker and make him erase every last bit of my presence from the internet. Another part of me hopes she already knew but didn’t care that I’d pulled her from the burning car and then started stalking her at the hospital like a real creep.

  But deep down, I know that isn’t true … and I only hope she can forgive me.

  ***

  Maybell

  A few hours later

  Finally, I’m home again.

  I just stop and stare at the colorful walls, the warm, wooden floors, and the big windows at the end of the hall. My dad walks past me so he can drop my bags, but I’m just soaking it in for the moment.

  God, I’ve missed this place.

  I took so much for granted … even this.

  My small apartment where I can do whatever the hell I want.

  Although I do have to remind myself that my mom and dad help pay for it since I’m a struggling, upcoming dancer and whatnot. Or … was.

  I walk inside with my crutches and sit down at my table, listening to the silence. I love it here. No more nurses, no more beeps, no more crazy neighbor. Just me and my dad. And when he leaves, I’ll be all alone.

  All alone in this big ol’ home.

  My home.

  Well, my parents paid for it, but still … I call it mine because they don’t live here and I do.

  “I put your stuff next to your bed. Is that okay?” Dad says.

  “Yeah. I’ll sort the laundry later today.” I smile at him. “Thanks.”

  He comes to kiss me on the forehead. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

  “I can take care of myself.” I hug him tight. “You go back to mom. She’s waiting for you.”

  “I know; she couldn’t stop texting me,” he says, chuckling a little.

  Tonight, they’re taking the plane to Hawaii. They had their vacation booked long before my accident, and I didn’t want them to cancel. Besides, they have something to celebrate now that Dad got the promotion. The bad part about them going away is that I’ll have no one to turn to if I need help. But I’m sure I’ll survive.

  “Are you sure you can do the injections on your own? Maybe you can ask your friend to stop by.”

  “No, we’re not really talking,” I say, making a face.

  “Oh … I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. It’s her choice. I guess we’re just done. Friends split apart. It happens, right?” I shrug it off, but it just doesn’t sit right. Now that he mentioned her, I can’t get it off my mind what a nasty way this is to say goodbye. She never came to visit me in the hospital … not even once. So if she showed up at my door tomorrow, I don’t think I’d let her in.

  “Well, good luck. Call us if you need anything,” he says as he walks to the door.

  I get up and follow him. “I won’t.” I laugh. “You just enjoy your vacation with Mom.” I wave goodbye to him at the door and then go back inside, stopping in the middle of the hallway for just a second so I can enjoy the silence.

  Then I go on to make some tea for myself and drink it at the counter, as I have no way to bring it back to the table with these crutches. Guess I’m going to have to make an adjustment or two to my home to make it livable in the coming weeks.

  But I can’t do it all by myself. I may have to enlist some help, and there’s only one person I can call.

  Just the thought of him makes me all giggly.

  I don’t know why … I’ve never felt this way about a guy, but he makes me feel so warm and welcome. No matter what I say or do, nothing seems to scare him off. I like that security.

  So I dial his number and anxiously press the button, biting my nails as the phone rings.

  “Alexander Wright.”

  “Hey, it’s Maybell,” I answer, a little nervous.

  “Hey, May. How are you? You’re home now, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I finally got discharged today. So sad you couldn’t be there.”

  It takes him a few seconds to respond. “Yeah, I had to help my dad with something.” He clears his throat. “Um, what’s up?” The conversation feels tense.

  It can’t have been the kiss, right? He was the one who initiated it. Or does he regret it now? I hope not.

  “I just wanted to ask if you’d like to come over to … I don’t know, play games or something.” I muffle a laugh, but it’s more from embarrassment than joy.

  “Oh, uh … sure, I guess?” I can almost feel his reluctance through the phone.

  “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I understand,” I quickly add. “I mean you must be very busy.”

  “No, no. I’d love to come,” he says, taking in a gulp of air. “I’ll be at your place in thirty.”

  I tell him my address and then we hang up the phone without even saying anything sweet, like kisses, or hugs, or I-love-yous.

  That’s what normal couples do, right? Are we even a couple? I don’t know.

  I’ve only had a boyfriend once, and that wasn’t really … anything at all. We only kissed one time, and it was because his friends apparently dared him to pretend to have a relationship with me for a week. So basically, I was conned into a fake relationship by a shitty boyfriend who wasn’t a boyfriend at all.

  This concludes the fact that I literally know nothing about boyfriends. Or boys, for that matter.

  Apart from Alexander, of course.

  I know him better than I even know my own dad.

  He likes to draw houses and wants to become an architect. I know he likes to eat steak and hates red vegetables. He enjoys the rain and doesn’t like the heat. He pushes himself to his limit but gives up easily if he’s discouraged. His parents were poor, and his dad went into cardiac arrest, which made Alex drop out of school. He loves gaming more than anything because of the escape. He sweats when he’s nervous, and he has the cutest smile.

  I try to clean up the house in a hurry, which takes me much longer than I thought, but I hadn’t put much thought into how I was going to transport a bag of chips and two glasses of Coke to the table. So when the doorbell rings, I am not prepared.

  I look like a mess. I’m still wearing the same dress as I was in the hospital, minus the ID bracelet around my wrist, of course. God, I’m so glad I’m rid of that itchy thing.

  I hurry to the door as fast as I can on my crutches, saying, “Coming!” because I can’t go any faster.

  His broad smile meets me when I open the door, and it makes all my worries disappear.

  “Hi,” I say.

  He walks in and greets me then he leans in to hug me. He holds me tight, almost squeezing me, but then leaning back again without kissing me. I thought he would. I was kind of hoping he would. Damn.

  “Welcome to my … humble home!” I say, laughing a little as I show him around.

  “It’s lovely. I didn’t know you lived by yourself.”

  “Yeah, I moved out as fast as I could,” I say, clearing my throat. “I just like being on my own.”

  “Oh, I can imagine.” He looks around my bathroom and kitchen. “Very nice.”

  “Could you help—” I point at the glasses. “Sorry, I wanted to put it all on the table before you got here, but I can’t.” I dangle the crutches above my head.

  “Sure, no problem.” He grabs the glasses and bag of chips.

  “You sure?” I ask, following him back into the living room.

  “Yeah, happy to help.”

  “Just like in the hospital,” I muse.

  “Mmmhmm …” He turns his head to me after placing everything down. “But this time we’re alone.”

  I blush from that word, which is silly because it’s just a word. But still.

  Alone … with him.

  “So … what’d you have in mind?”

  I look around and bite the inside of
my cheek again. “How about a movie? Or should we turn on the PlayStation?”

  “Both are fun,” he says, sitting down on the couch. He pats the space next to him. “Come sit down with me.”

  I hesitate for a second, not having felt such feelings before. I don’t even know what I’d do if he touched me in a different, more intimate way. Then again, he probably won’t, since he hasn’t kissed me either.

  I overcome my fear and sit down beside him, taking it slow so I don’t hurt myself, and place the crutches beside the couch. He grabs a pillow, which I tuck under my leg. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He laughs. “Although I thought you’d want it for your back, this is fine too.”

  I nod. “Yeah, my knee hurts because I do too much, and it makes my leg swell up.” I let out a groan. “I just wish I could walk again.”

  “Patience, young Padawan.”

  I laugh and slap him with one of my other pillows. “Lame.”

  “Well, you’d better not start walking yet, young lady.”

  “Or else?” I raise a brow.

  He narrows his eyes. “Someone’s feeling sassy.”

  “Can you blame me?” I point at my knee. “Look at that scar. Look at all that bloated skin. I’m like a whale on dry land.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re beautiful.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I’m momentarily baffled. “Well … you … ugh.” I drop my head back on the couch. “How am I supposed to respond to that?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Hmm …” I close my eyes for a second. “I hope I can get through this. I have a long way to go until I can properly walk again.”

  “Take it slow. Your body needs to rest. It needs to heal. Besides, knowing you, you’ll be on your feet in no time.”

  “I know. I just hate being couch-bound. There’s nothing I love more than my freedom.”