Sommerstall Academy

Florence and I got dressed and now I’m holding her again. She’s adorably tired and my heart can hardly take the way her soft breaths brush against my chest. I had to help her into a pair of my boxers and my shirt. She didn’t feel like putting her jeans back on and I love seeing her in my clothes too much to have protested.

I check the time on my phone, still stroking my girl’s hand with the other. It’s after eleven pm which means my parents will be back soon and Florence probably needs to leave. I don’t know where she told her parents she’d be but I’m sure they won’t be thrilled if she’s home after midnight. The last thing I want is for her to get into trouble.

So I kiss the top of her head and ask, ‘Do you want me to give you a ride home?’

Everything happens quickly then. Florence freezes completely, her whole body tense. I say her name, again and again, asking what’s wrong but she doesn’t answer.

My heart’s beating furiously. I finally pull away to get a better look at her only for her to sit up as well, blinking like she just woke from a trance.

‘No,’ she finally says softly. I’m too confused to speak so I take a closer look at her. She’s shaking, her face pale and eyes haunted. Haunted and so damn scared it triggers my own fear.

Florence starts shaking her head. Repeating, ‘no, no, no,’ over and over again. Her eyes fill with tears and it brings me back. I have no idea what’s happening but I can’t just sit here like an idiot while Florence is breaking apart.

I move forward to pull her back into my arms, to cup her face so she stops shaking her head, to do anything at all but the girl is too fast. She grabs my wrists as I reach for her and puts them back at my sides, looking so damn miserable. ‘I’m sorry,’ she finally whispers.

‘Florence, what-‘ I reach for her again but she stops me.

‘Don’t, please,’ she mutters before turning away completely. She gets off my bed, hugging her shaking form and I’m left staring at her back. Meanwhile, a horrible feeling is settling deep in my bones. Like the suspicions I’ve been trying to ignore and the signs I chose not to analyze are back to bite me. Like this is some big crash I secretly knew would come but pretended it wouldn’t.

And suddenly I’m having a déjà vu. A flashback from when Ricky confessed to me. Same tears, same ‘Don’t touch me,’ same origin. It’s always lies. Right now, I’d bet my balls that Florence is about to tell me she’s been lying about something.

I’m getting angry, the betrayal settling in my bones even though Florence hasn’t confessed to anything.

Focusing back on the girl in front of me, I can’t believe where my thoughts are headed. This is Florence. Not Ricky. She’s crying and freaking out and I’m sitting on my bed, wallowing in self-pity like a suspicious idiot.

‘Florence, what happened?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. ‘What are you sorry for?’ Too familiar, a voice in my head taunts me. This is how it ends, my heart cries out.

‘You can’t give me a ride home,’ she says quietly, her shoulders shaking slightly with silent sobs. And I forget my anger and suspicion. I forget it all and am left with a dull ache as I’m forced to watch her fall apart in front of me.

‘Why not? How else would you go home?’ I ask.

‘Not at all. I’m sorry. I can’t.’ She hiccups and her body jerks. Meanwhile, my hands feel like rocks at my sides. My fingers itch to touch her and hold her but she doesn’t want me to touch her.

Why is she pulling away?

‘Why can’t you go home?’ I ask. I can feel the first lie is about to be revealed and brace myself. I get the feeling there are a few to come.

‘I didn’t tell them where I was going. They know. I didn’t say but they must know,’ she cries.

‘Your parents? Florence, what are you talking about? Why wouldn’t you tell them anything? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Hey, it’s fine, I’m sure they’ll understand. I’ll come home with you and help explain. Or we can make up an excuse, say your phone died and you forgot,’ I speak desperately but my girl cries more.

‘No, you don’t understand. I’m sorry. I don’t want to go home,’ she says, making absolutely no sense.

‘Then spend the night. That’s fine too,’ I tell her. ‘Is this about what we just did? I didn’t mean to kick you out, Florence. You can stay the night, of course. I thought you might want to leave but you can stay.’

‘Not tonight. It won’t help if I don’t go there tonight. He won’t forget, you don’t understand. I’m so sorry,’ she says, hugging herself even tighter and crying freely at my wall.

He won’t forget? What the hell are we talking about?

‘I don’t understand. Please, calm down and start from the top. We can figure something out,’ I assure her.

‘We can’t. I lied to you. I’m so sorry, Eli. I lied so much. I don’t know what to say,’ she finally confesses.

I knew it. I knew and expected this but my heart still tears as it hears the words from Florence’s lips. Sweet Florence who I love and trusted so much. Who I care about so stupidly deeply.

I stay silent, thinking about so much and so little at the same time. My girl is still not looking at me and I am still so confused. I realize we’re both too upset to have this conversation tonight.

I take a deep breath, making sure my voice is even when I speak.

‘Can I give you a ride?’ I ask. Florence sobs again and starts shaking her head. ‘Florence, we both need to cool down before we talk about whatever it is you lied about. You’re not in the condition to explain anything, it seems and I’m not sure I can comfort you right now,’ I add.

‘Please, no. You don’t understand,’ she says but I cut her off.

‘Oh, I think I do. And I think I know what you’d say if you could. You’d tell me you didn’t mean to do it. You’d say it just happened in the moment and that you’re sorry and Florence, I might even believe you. I just can’t do this right now,’ I say tiredly. Florence finally whips around.

‘No, that’s not what happened. Elija, I didn’t cheat on you,’ she tells me. Then her mouth clamps shut and she looks like she’s about to be sick. She’s shaking her head again. ‘I didn’t want- It’s not- Oh god.’ She presses the back of her hand to her mouth and turns away from me.

‘Then what happened? Either tell me or let me take you home.’

‘I can’t go home,’ she repeats quietly.

‘Why not?’ I snap, hardly able not to give into the frustration.

‘I’m scared of what he’ll do to me if I’m home tonight,’ she finally whispers, running her hands through her hair and tugging at it.

Meanwhile, I’m stunned into silence, too scared to think about what she just said.