Perfectly Broken

(18) S'more Chips

1:32 a.m.

The moment I opened my eyes, I couldn't go back to sleep. The last thing I saw was Jack holding Rose to the rail as the Titanic sunk then it was lights out for me. And somehow, I ended up in my room underneath the covers. By the little light protruding through the window, I could see Tori wasn't in the room, her bed bare.

I sighed pushing back the covers, deciding a little midnight snack wouldn't hurt.

The cabin was dark besides the moonlight shining through the windows. I walked out of my room, down the hall and towards the kitchen. To my amazement, I wasn't alone. I halted my footsteps, hearing someone rummaging in the fridge. Within the fridge light, I knew it was a girl, her butt sticking out and I looked away, realizing she was in her underwear—well, thong.

Hoping I had time to retreat, I tiptoed back. But I wasn't so lucky, the floorboards creaking at the sudden movement.

"Who's there?" she asked, startled. Pulling her head out the fridge, Chelsea gave me a drowsy smile, pulling out a cup of yogurt. "Oh, hey, Emma, what are you doing up?"

Damn it, I thought, unable to stop myself from looking at her. She was utterly perfect in every way. Beautifully sculpted like a Victoria Secret model, tall and curvy, with disheveled hair that looked sexy on her, like a celebrity hairstyle, and emerald eyes that could capture any guys heart. And to think Ryan's been spending the majority of his time with her since we arrived made me jealous and resentful. But I hid it well...I hope.

I gave her a smile, obviously looking around for food to ignore the jealous twinge of her perfection. "Just wanted to get a midnight snack," I told her, grabbing a pear from the fruit bowl.

"Same here." She gestured to her yogurt.

Time seemed to tick loudly after that, neither of us knowing what to say. We've hardly talked that much, the only time being when Tori brought up a conversation. Tori was the only reason I knew Ryan broke up with her. And what terrified me was that it looked like she could get him back.

"Well...I'm he—" I began awkwardly before she stopped me.

"Emma," she called, her voice filled with shyness I never knew she could produce. "Um...you're well acquainted with Ryan—well, sort of—right?"

My heart thumped roughly, achiness plunging through at the question. My mind raced about why she'd suddenly ask that. Did she know we were s*x friends? Would she want to rip me apart? Did she know about...Ryan's confession? Even the mere thought brought goosebumps on my arms.

Ignoring them and thankful it was so dark, I muttered, "Kind of."

A glimpse of relief graced her angelic face. "Good." She looked down at her yogurt. "I was wondering if you've seen him with...a girl." Plenty, I thought, holding my tongue. Remembering the snippets of the party where I revealed that I like, like him and then hearing he was about to leave with another girl made pitiful resentment rise. That's a part of why I'm so reluctant to give in to Ryan's confession that's been swimming in my mind for two days now. I've known him to be a player type, seeing him flirt with girls in the hall on a regular basis.

"Sort of," I admitted, hesitation quivering in my voice.

A spark of life swept through her. "Who?"

"Uh, it's no one specific..." Guilt was slowly seeping into me during her investigation. I knew little about her but I knew enough about being a teenage girl that she was snooping out the competition.

Her eyes were still drawn to the yogurt, smacking her lips. "Well, thanks, Emma."

"No probably." I pivoted towards the door but she caught me again, heart still thumping.

"Sorry for prying about Ryan. It's just...I want him back and I couldn't ask Tori...even though it's obvious she's with Jude."

"Why?"

She shrugged giving me a 'Isn't it obvious' look that had bubbles rising in my stomach. "Emma, you're great and all but I can see an eccentric girl a mile away. And Tori reeks of that untamed spirit, more Ryan's type. Can you see where I'm going with this?"

I felt my chest cave in at her words. Bluntly stating Ryan would never have any interest in me because I was the aesthesis of his type. It only fueled my reluctance of if Ryan's confession was genuine. For some reason, depression hit me hard at the thought of the feelings he told me is false.

She continued while I remained silent. "I remember you from a few months ago. You wore glasses, didn't you? Besides that, I felt more comfortable asking you because I know Ryan's not your type and vice versa. Plus, you're too...innocent to hang around Ryan, no offense, but I wouldn't be surprised if you still had your V-card. Anywho, thanks again for the bits of information."

I only nodded, returning my pear, and hurried out. I wasn't hungry anymore. The caving feeling hurt more and more. Finding it a struggle to breathe, I walked outside to get some fresh air. What she said was probably true. I've always hated being called innocent and goody-two-shoes. The most badass thing I've ever done was sleep with Ryan. And even that made shame rip through me to the point where I became paranoid people would just see written on my face.

But his confession...he said he loved me, he always loved me. We've already had s*x, so why was he telling me this? Why now?

"Emma?" a voice called.

I turned towards the direction of the husky voice calling my name, looking around in the darkness until I found a guy sitting on the nearby hammock on the porch. Squinting to perceive him better, although I recognized the voice immediately, I had to be sure.

"Ryan?"

There were only sounds of crickets and the rustle of the trees as I approached him. He was lounging on the hammock with a plate of food on his stomach. Underneath the moonlight, a beautiful smile that had my heart leaping captured his lips. His hazel eyes looked so tender and soft when they fell on me.

"I thought it was you," he mused.

The chilling wind brushed against my arms and I held myself, shivers streaming down my body. "What are you doing out here so late?" I asked. "Aren't you freezing?"

He displayed the comforter on his lap. "I just wanted to look at the stars."

Gazing up along with him, I noticed the stars were extra bright tonight, the human eye able to detect every single one with ease. It's a rarity to find them back home, the lights of the town disguising them against darkness.

Looking down at his lap, I asked, "What's that?" And no I didn't mean anything s****l about it 'cause it was food. It looked like chips but they had chocolate drizzled over them along with something white that look mushy.

As if he forgot about his food, he looked down also. "Oh, S'mores chips," he told me proudly, picking one up and crunching into it. "Want one?"

I shook my head, rubbing my arms harder for warmth. "No thanks." In my mind, I was wondering why he spoke so smoothly to me when I've obviously been avoiding him since his confession. Besides a few greets and pardons, this was the most we've spoken.

Seeing that I was about to become a human Popsicle, he balanced the plate on the wooden rail of the porch and unclothed the blanket around him. "Come here," he said, a hint of assertiveness in his tone. But it was controlled, enough to not frighten me. His arms were outstretched and I only stared at him, biting my lips. His head tilted, giving me a disgruntled look, rolling his eyes.

Abruptly, he grabbed my arm roughly, causing me to lose balance and fall into his arms. The rockiness of the wire hammock made me panic and coiling within his arms out of instinct. I hated hammocks. They could flip over anytime and I'd like to lie on something secure and not mid-air.

I hadn't realized I was holding him so tight until a deep, husky laugh vibrated through him. "There's no reason to be afraid," he told me, his laughter soothing in my ears. If there's one good thing I liked about him, it'd be his laughter. It was boyish and at the same time, deep and smooth.

I pulled back a smidge. "I'm not afraid, you just surprised me...jerk."

He gathered the blanket around him to the point where it shielded us both from the chilling air. No wonder he wasn't complaining, this warmed me up instantly, inside and out, and Ryan's body heat helped also.

He scoffed. "You haven't called me that in a while."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, jerk." That beautiful laugh drifted into my ears again, relaxing me. "Why are you eating that concoction you call S'mores?" I asked, half satisfied, half shamed for saying it rudely.

We were laying side by side, our arms stuck to one another in the small, confined space available. For some reason, I didn't mind. Actually, it comforted me.

Smirking lazily, he looked down at me. "You're one to talk. At the mall, you ate a hamburger on your ketchup. And you used the rest for your potato chips."

"That's different. A lot of ketchup isn't weird."

"It is when you're allergic to tomatoes."

I gave him a perplexed look. "How'd you know I was allergic to tomatoes?"

He looked up at the sky, the stars in perfect view in this position. "In elementary school, we had a tomato plant project and after we were done, we ate them. When you ate yours, you got nauseous immediately and had to be sent home."

Saying that sparked the memory of that day.

Mack rushed to the school in a panic, not knowing what to do since Alec hardly got sick, nonetheless, had an allergic reaction to food. He took me to the ER and they declared me alright after they gave me some medicine. It was also the first time I got to visit mom since she was hospitalized. After, I'd eat tomatoes just to visit the point where my immune system no longer rejected it.

"You remembered that?" I awed.

He gave me gentle smile, one that made me all tingly inside—good tingly. "You'd be amazed how much I remember about you growing up."

Silence took over after that, the hooting of owls and the crickets the only think audible for a while. His confession ran through my mind during it. I've loved you since the moment I set my eyes on you in elementary school. His words heated my hearts so much I thought it'd burn. Has he been admiring me since childhood?

Shaking my head to remove the thoughts, I returned to the conversation before he could remind me of his confession himself. "That doesn't explain you're S'mores chips."

While staring at the sky, I noticed his eyes appeared lost in thought as he spoke. "My mom would make them and we'd stare at the stars like this." When he said 'my mom,' I flinched, never hearing about his mom or dad before. "We didn't have a fireplace or a fire pit outdoors so mom grabbed some potato chips, squirted some chocolate on them, and put on some marshmallow toppings." He stared into space for a long time before mumbling sadly, "She was always weird and unpredictable like that."

Was. That told me enough to know it hurt him to think about her constantly. I didn't know that much about Ryan's family life, only that he lived with his uncle I've yet to meet. I know, it's sad that I've known him since childhood, but didn't know him.

Gazing at him in the streak of moonlight, his expression slumped at the thought and a sympathetic needle pricked me hard. I've never seen him so distant and sorrowful. Without thinking, I placed a hand on his chest, snapping him out of whatever thoughts running through his head.

His eyes seemed to shine when they caught mine. "Would you like to hear more about her?"

My teeth napped at my bottom lip before replying. "Only if you want to tell me."

Pulling me closer, he allowed me to rest my head on his chest, his heartbeat thumping strongly in my ear. "I want to tell you." Falling limp within his embrace, I relaxed as his hand rubbed my shoulder, keeping me warm. Has he always been this considerate?

"My mom was utterly...amazing, that's the simplest I can put it. She was sweet and lively. She'd always sang to me in the morning, noon, and night, and she'd literally glow when she did. Because our house was filled with depression, she was like a ray of sunshine for me even at her worse times. She'd go out of her way for anyone—especially me. She was the most selfless person I knew."

He appeared happier when he talked about her, a miniature smile tugging at his lips, and his eyes illuminating in the night. After speaking, flecks of sadness sprinkled on him and it made me yearn for that happiness for him again.

"She sounds like a wonderful person," was all I could utter to halt the sadness gradually swallowing him.

To my astonishment, it worked. A velvety chuckle rumbled out of him. "I wish you could have met her," he muttered. The glimpse of happiness exited as quickly as it'd entered.

My mind raced to try to get that smile back, ignoring drowsiness slowly creeping its way inside me. It was infrequent that we'd have a moment like this where he'd unveil himself to me. During his bold confession, he also stated because of the way he was raised, he expressed love to me in hurtful ways. The way he exalted his mom though, it made me curious how he was raised to the extent of hurting me.

Tracing tiny circles in his chest, I quietly said, "You said your past and the way you were raised compelled you to hurt me...because you love me. Why?" Keeping my eyes on the pattern I was making on his shirt, the ominous silence took over again. I cringed in his arms when the wind picked up, finding myself exceedingly cozy.

Suddenly, his finger grazed my chin, drawing my head up to look at him. His hazel eyes stared at me with so much compassion my heart and stomach were doing somersaults.

"Kiss me," he said softly. He wasn't ordering me to but he wasn't asking either. However, there were ripples in my gut wanting—needing—to kiss him, not only for his sake, but for mine. I really like, like him and I...sort of missed him.

Without another word, my neck extended towards him and I quickly seized his anticipating lips. They were soft and sweet, a hint of chocolate lurking off. His hand slid up my back to hold my neck, deepening it which I didn't refuse. The chocolate on his mouth lulling me and made me crave more as I opened my mouth slightly. That's when his tongue darted to mine, massaging it. The kiss was turning more passionate and hungering on his part, my lips poorly trying to keep up with the sensation.

Then I felt his weight shake the hammock and I panicked at the movement, remembering we were depended on such an unsteady structure. My eyes fluttered open, lips never leaving his. "Ryan," I muttered against his lips.

He groaned, taking it as a sign I wanted more, him positioning himself closer. The hammock rocked again, the panicking feeling in my chest tightening.

"Ryan," I muttered again, this time attempting to pull away. But that electrical arousal overwhelmed my senses, splitting me between ignoring my fears and pushing him away. He answered it though when the hammock started tumbling over at his slight movement to get on top of me. "Ryan!"

Just when the sensation of falling engulfed me, he fastened his grasp on me, his lips leaving mine to hold us within the rough material. It rocked side to side, gradually decreasing in pace until it stopped. My heart was beating speedily, arms wrapped around his torso and face buried in his neck. Eventually, my fearful thoughts were replaced with how good he smelt right now, like natural spice and honey.

He startled me with satiny laughter. "Did you think I'd let you fall?" he mocked, his breath hitting my ear. An uncontrollable moan escaped me.

I pulled myself together before he could notice. "Uh, yeah!"

In a serious tone, all hints of jokiness absent, he vowed, "Emma, I'll never let you fall." His words divulged it meant more than just falling out of a hammock. Breath hitching, I looked at him, sitting up slightly to see he was dead serious. This was so confusing. Why was he treated this way? Telling me those sweet words? He was slowly transforming into a new man I never knew existed.

His lips quivered to say something. Several seconds went by with us staring at one another and then a playful smirk set in. "I didn't know you were afraid of hammocks."

Snapping out of my trance, I scoffed, looking away. He was teasing me. That had to be it. "I hate them with a passion." My eyes peeked at him. "And you made me get up here."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Oops." His arms encircled me, pulling me back to his chest I was too weary to refuse, surrendering myself to the blanket and him. "When did you start getting hammock-a-phobia?"

I glared at him, not finding this amusing. "Weren't we talking about something else?" I snapped, not wanting to talk about my fears.

That awakened him, the disturbed expression returning beneath the pale moonlight. I was becoming to dislike that expression after seeing it so much in only the past few minutes. It was a distant ice stare to the sky, leaving me to speculate if, once again, I said the wrong thing.

Suddenly, he spoke. "If I tell you about my past, you cannot show any sympathy, anguish, or resentment, you understand?" His domineering tone ordered me to whether I wanted to or not. He looked down at me, his eyes dimmed in the darkness, not only because it was nighttime but because of his now grim mask. "When I'm done, I don't want to hear anything of the sort either."

Hesitating for only a second, I nodded, now revived by curiosity. His gazed returned to the stars, keeping an arm firmly around me, and the other, a pillow for his head. If he didn't start speaking, drowsiness would kick in again and I'd fall asleep. I really wanted to know about his past, about him, about everything I've neglected myself of knowing.

"My dad was abusive," he revealed, catching me off guard. He didn't wait for my reaction which would have been surprised and, against his demands, sympathy. "He was very controlling and possessive, always had to be the head honcho around the house and town. Whatever he said goes. My mom had the means to leave but she stayed because of me. He refused to let me go if it meant she'd stay.

For thirteen years, I lived with his crap and every day I'd watch my mother suffer. Then he beat her up so severely, she was admitted to the hospital, saying that she was in a car accident. He, of course, watched her, making sure she didn't say anything. She wouldn't have even if he wasn't watching. While at the hospital, she saw someone...from her past, and afraid she'd try to leave him, he went ballistic.

Returning home, he beat her with everything of worth in the house, blinded by rage. I tried to stop him but he knocked me out cold. By the time I woke up, he had disappeared and my mom was lying in a pool of her own blood. Obviously, I called nine-one-one but it proved to be futile. She was pronounced dead before the ambulance arrived. I still have nightmares and regrets about the day—about my life. She was the only person to really love me, love me enough to risk her life."

He paused, staring blankly at the sky. I lied on his chest silently, not wanting to break him from his thoughts. His words spun in my mind, never thinking he'd be a child of domestic abuse. Immediately, I had the urged to wash all that pain away, to tell him sweet words that'd never let his beautiful smile fade. Why hadn't I notice?

He continued after a while. "Not too long after, they caught my dad and sent him to jail for first-degree murder. My mom's brother took me in right after."

"So it's better?" I asked, captivated in his story. Childishly, I wanted him to have a happy ending, knowing he deserved it. But how could you seek true happiness after something like that?

He pursed his lips. "I don't get hit, that's a slight improvement."

A sheet of condolence fluttered down on me and I attempted to push it away before he could see it. Too late, I jolted a fragment away, expecting him to be mad I was showing obvious sympathy. He must have forgotten his commands because he leaned over and gently caressed my cheek with the palm of his hand. That modest touch had heat emitting throughout my veins. I inhaled harshly when he made it blaze, kissing my forehead, a quiet whimper falling off my tongue.

"Don't worry," he whispered, his voice calming me. "Graduation's around the corner."

I nodded, barely strong enough to hold my head up. Between the lethargy and his pacifying voice, I didn't know if I'd make it another two minutes. But I pushed on.

"What else?" I asked, hoping he'd continue.

He sighed. "Life...got a little bit easier. My past still comes back to haunt me. However, I've found a reason to fight those demons." He looked down at me perched on his chest. There was a twinkle as bright as the stars above flashing by in his eyes. "I found that strength in you."

Smiling at those words, I knew I was too weak right not to restrain myself. Especially those eyes taking over every commonsense I had left.

"Ryan, I know you said don't say anything and I'll suffer the consequences later, but I need to tell you." I licked my lips, so absorbed by him. This is what lack of sleep does. "What you went through is horrible and I wouldn't be human if I didn't feel something—sympathy, pity, compassion, anything—after hearing that. And I know we haven't been friends per se but I care about you nonetheless. It kind of makes sense why you've always bullied me since childhood, holding in so much, and that's alright with me now that I know the reasons behind it.

I have to admit, I've always wanted to know why—if you hated me, if I did something to you. I've seen that you're not bad, you're not a bully, and you're just lost in emotions you can't convey properly. And being with you for the past three months, I know you can be gentle and caring at times, and I like those aspects. I like hearing your laughter, seeing you smile, being held by you. If I could have changed your past so I could see those things all the time, I would.

At the party, I told you I liked you—"

"You remember?!" he exclaimed. I flinched. "I mean, I thought you forgot everything."

My eyes were laboring to stay open. "Everything after dancing with Tori. I remember telling you how I felt about you." I was awake enough to feel a rip in my heart by my next words. "Then I was told you left with another girl. And now you're with Chelsea..."

"I'm not with Chelsea—well, we're not dating—"

"I get it," I interrupted quietly. "You're just hooking up."

"No, Emma, we're not."

"But I saw her in the kitchen in her underwear and you have food too so..."

He groaned. "It means nothing. She's always in her underwear at night—no, wait! We weren't hooking up at all. She just wanted to spend some time with me here. There's nothing between us though."

I already had my eyes close, still listening. "She's pretty," I mused with a yawn. "I wouldn't put it aside if—"

"Emma," he barked through his teeth. I could feel the quaking in his chest when he spoke, resembling a massage against my head. "You're the one I want, not her. You're beautiful. You practically light up the room when you enter. You're the one who's had my heart since elementary school. You...Emma?"

"Mmm?" My eyes were still closed, the warmth of his body too comforting not to yield to. Sleepily, not sexually, I was too tired for that.

"Just go to sleep," he muttered under his breath. I could tell he was irritated and I would have forced my attention on him if he hadn't kissed me on the forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, the electrical sensation noticeable, trickling down my head and along my body. "Goodnight."

And I fell asleep without another thought.

"Ah-hmm!" a voice broke through my dreams.

My eyes struggled to open, a blur of light immediately blinding me. I cringed away from the sun, realizing too soon that my body was intertwined with another. Light snoring wafted in my ears and my eyes adjusted to see Ryan's sleeping face, his arm still wrapped around me. I didn't have to think about last night, I remembered instantly.

I turned back around to see Tori and Jude looming over us, hiding their smirks. Tori pressed her lips together, a laugh wishing to protrude and Jude snickered behind his hands. Embarrassment flushed through my cheeks, redness heating them.

"Emma, you have some 'xplainin' to do," Jude phrased Ricky off of I Love Lucy.

"Lots of 'xplainin'," Tori added, crossing her arms with a delighted look. Her eyes fell on Ryan. "I guess you had a good night's sleep."

The covers were wrapped around me protectively as if I was nude, but it was obvious I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. But to be in this predicament, and having them staring at me, made this awkward beyond belief. I might as well have been nude.

Ryan stirred beside me, turning over to fold his arms around my waist. His eyes opened, the sun angled perfectly to brighten his eyes, showing off the natural green, blue, and brown hues within.

A tilted smile greeted me. "Good morn—what the hell?" He recoiled at the sight of Tori and Jude who couldn't restrain their laughter at his bewildered expression. I have to admit, I giggled at it too. He glowered at them, an infuriated look taking over, making them silence without a word yet said. "This isn't a f*****g peep show."

Tori had the guts to back talk him, giving him a smirk. "It is when you're parading in public." She gestured to the forest and lake surrounding us. "I think you scared off a bear."

Recollecting that we were outside, his expression dropped into...slightly less irritation if you can call it that. He glared at her one last time before sitting up, rocking the hammock and I immediately grabbed him, afraid I'd fall. This lightened his mood, him chuckling at me. Childishly, I stuck out my tongue, not wanting my fear to be noticed by Tori and Jude.

In the window of the cabin, I could see a pair of green eyes staring at me. They were filled with venom, squinting darkly at me, threateningly. I felt my blood go cold at the sight, my breath halting in my chest which made it burn. I was in deep trouble, I could tell by just looking into those emerald eyes.

Then Chelsea walked away, her sinister threat lingering between us long after.