Faithless Page 2

  "Riley, can I please see you alone for a minute."

  I hesitate to leave after I notice Riley's body stiffen at Mr. Rollins’ voice. She seems extremely uncomfortable with the thought of being with him alone. Mr. Rollins looks in my direction, nodding his head in the direction of the door and I can't help but let out an audible sigh.

  I look down at the top of Riley's head and whisper so only she can hear me, "Are you going to be okay?"

  When she looks up, her entire demeanor has changed. She looks angry and irritated, maybe by my question, but my gut tells me it's more because she has to speak with Rollins alone.

  "I'm fine." She snarls.

  "Fine. See you later."

  "Not likely." She responds with anger lacing every word. She is going to be one tough cookie to crack.

  I let my fingers graze her shoulder just enough that she doesn't notice, as I pass by her and into the hallway. I don't know what came over me, but I'm feeling overprotective of her and want to make sure she is okay, so I wait. I wait in the hallway for what seems like a half hour, until her tiny body comes walking out of the open door. My six foot four frame dwarfs her, maybe five feet seven inches. I chuckle to myself as she tries not to notice me standing there, obviously waiting for her.

  I can see her eyes dart quickly in my direction, but then she turns to head back to her room. I slowly follow behind, wanting to talk to her, but knowing that it most likely isn't going to happen. My feet halt quickly, as she turns to face me in front of what I could only assume is her room.

  "What do you want, Tristan?" The way she says my name makes me laugh internally. She was pissed.

  "I just wanted to see if maybe you would like to come with me to get lunch later in the cafeteria?"

  "And what gave you the impression that I would ever want to do that?"

  Man she had an attitude that's for sure, but damn it if it didn't make me want her even more. "Was just curious was all, but no worries. I'll leave you be. Sorry Riley."

  I turn and start making my way down the long hallway to the common room, almost hoping she would change her mind and come running after me, but even though I didn't know her that well or even at all, I knew this wouldn't happen. I shrugged my shoulders and continued over to my usual table where "Crazy John" and I always play checkers after group. I sat in my usual chair, as John liked the same chair everyday. He was a bit obsessive compulsive, and sitting in his chair was one thing that would set off his abusive streak. Unfortunately for me, I had to find that out the hard way, but now we are cool, as long as I never sat in his seat.

  "You made it. I was starting to think you weren't coming." His voice was soothing, almost like a father's voice.

  "Sorry John, I just had something to do real quick. You ready for me to kick your ass again today?"

  "Oh please, pretty boy. You act like I don't let you win." His laugh echoed off of every wall and filled the room.

  "Just take your turn John, and stop calling me pretty boy."

  John was the first person I met the night I came in. After being cleared by the emergency room, they instantly brought me up to the psychiatric ward. I knew exactly what was going on. Hell, I had the routine down pat, after the second time of being here, I knew exactly what to expect. John didn't like me much when I first tried to talk to him. I knew everybody called him "Crazy John" because he had been in here so often, but I never once called him that to his face. Despite my niceties towards him, he decided the first time he saw me that he didn't care what my name was. He was adamant that he was going to call me "Pretty Boy," and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I didn't mind. I used to get called worse things by my friends and classmates, so if pretty boy was what he wanted to call me, then I would let him.

  "Are you even paying attention, pretty boy?" His voice broke through my revelry like a knife.

  "Of course." I took my turn and looked at John in anticipation of his next move. "Hey John?"

  He looked up confused. We rarely if ever had a conversation. "Um, yeah?"

  "Do you know anything about the new girl, Riley?"

  John hung is head and refused to look at me. "Kind of. Just what people have said and what I've overheard the nurses saying. Why?"

  "No reason. I was just curious is all." I pushed back in my chair, trying to balance on the back two legs, when I heard her voice float through the air. I instantly placed the legs of the chair back on the ground and engrossed myself in my game with John. I didn't want to feel the wrath of Riley again today, so my plan was to completely ignore her.

  "She's coming over here."

  "What? Why?"

  "Well I don’t know, pretty boy. Why don't you ask her? Oh, and it's your move."

  "Always so impatient, aren't we?" I joked.

  As I pondered over my next move, I could feel her presence getting closer. I knew she was right behind me, when the intoxicating aroma of vanilla assaulted my senses. God, she even smelled good. Staying away from her was going to be much harder than I had anticipated. Damn it!

  CHAPTER THREE

  Riley

  Tristan had caught me off guard earlier as I was walking back to my room. No one in this place ever tried to talk to me, except for Mr. Rollins. I could only assume that my attitude was to blame for that, but I was fine not speaking to anybody. The less people noticed me or talked to me, only meant it would be easier to not be remembered when I left.

  After group, Mr. Rollins had told me how proud he was that I actually spoke up in group today. It was nice to hear, but it made no difference. I just needed him to believe me when I said I was feeling better and less suicidal, so I could leave this damn place. Group had been easy for me to make my way through and it passed the time, but today was the first time any one had noticed me, and it scared the shit out of me.

  When I had gone back to my room, the only visions that ran through my head were of Tristan. Something about him intrigued me. I knew better than to try to get close to him, or let him get close to me, but there was something in his eyes that captured my attention.

  After twenty minutes of staring aimlessly at the popcorn ceiling, yet again, something made me get up and go out to the common room. The last thing I expected to see when I reached the bright open room was Tristan playing checkers with Crazy John. Apparently, I was the only one who didn't try to connect with others.

  I slowly made my way in his direction. He was busy looking down at the board in front of him, so I didn't expect a greeting of any sorts, but I was still shocked when I was the one who spoke first.

  "Is this what you do all day?" My voice came out flat with zero emotion behind it.

  "Not all day." He replied without turning to face me.

  "I see."

  I stood there staring at the back of Tristan's head as he continued his game. I was a little surprised at his lack of acknowledgment that I was there. It started to irritate me a bit and I quickly became impatient waiting for him to say something.

  "Are you just going to stand there and stare?"

  I could hear the amusement in his tone, but now I was just pissed. This was a mistake. I quickly turned and started making my way back to my room. Although I wasn't tired, I figured I would take a nap to pass the time. I was done. I had never made an effort with anybody else here, and I realized I had made a mistake trying to start now.

  I quietly closed the door to my room and pulled the hair band from around my bun, releasing my long strands so they could freely flow down my back. I stripped off my sweatshirt, leaving me in my jeans and a white tank top. I slid under the scratchy beige sheets and rolled onto my side with my back facing the door. My eyes began to get heavy, and finally I succumbed to sleep. My body relaxed and for the first time in seven days, I felt my body enjoying the relaxed state.

  ~~~~

  I was woken by a knock on the door. I instantly sat up straight, pulling the covers up to my chin. Flashbacks of being at my third foster home flashed through my mind and I could feel the tea
rs welling up behind my lids. When I heard the knock again, I began to tremble. I knew I was safe in this place, but my body couldn't help the way it reacted to certain things.

  When I heard Tristan's voice on the other side of the door, the tension in my body gave way. I didn't know what to say to him, or if I even wanted to say anything. The way I felt around him was completely foreign to me and I really didn't like it. I quickly ducked down under the covers and pretended to still be asleep, just as I heard the door crack open. The only thing he would be able to see was my hair sticking out from under the covers and hopefully that would be enough for him to leave me alone. No matter how I thought I was feeling towards this guy, I could never let him in. There was no point when I wasn't even going to be around after I got released. It was easier this way.

  I heard his footsteps coming closer to my bed, but then they stopped briefly and then they started to fade. When the door clicked into the frame, I let out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. I pushed the covers back off of me, and sat up to find my journal.

  Mr. Rollins had convinced all of us to start a journal outlining our time here. He made it very clear that these would never be shared, so he encouraged us to write anything and everything that came to our minds. The first day I hadn't written anything besides the date. I looked at the journal in a different way than most, I'm sure. Instead of writing how I was feeling that day, or what had happened, I decided to leave behind a part of me that only one person would understand once it was found.

  I grabbed the small spiral notebook and a pen off of my nightstand and sat back against the wall, preparing myself to write today's entry.

  Mom,

  I'm on day seven in this place that is supposed to be helping me, but in all actuality, I don't believe anything can help erase the damage you have done to me. I wish I could say that every second of every day I sat and waited for you, but after the first year of being in that orphanage on my own, I knew it wouldn't happen.

  I've tried for years to understand how a mother could possibly justify doing what you did to me. Because of what you did and the things you put me through, I had to endure much worse than any child should ever have to. You broke me. At the age of three, you broke me beyond repair. I wish I could say that one day I would forgive you, but you don't deserve my forgiveness and I highly doubt you care enough to ask for it.

  I wish I had pictures of the places I was supposed to call "home" after I was finally fostered. The orphanage was bad enough, but I can honestly say that I would've rather stayed there until I was eighteen, as opposed to the places I ended up.

  I'll always remember the good times, but let's face it, they were few and far between, and they only lasted until I was two. I hate you for EVERYTHING! I would never want a mother like you. You were one of the worst things that could've happened to me. You selfish bitch. You should've never had kids and not a day goes by when I wished that you had aborted or given me up for adoption.

  I hope you rot in hell for what you did.

  Riley

  I let out a relieved breath as I closed my journal and placed it back in the drawer in the nightstand. Whether my mother ever read my journal or not, I knew it was getting me closer to being at peace with myself before I left this earth for good.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall behind me and realized that it was almost time for dinner. I dreaded going to the cafeteria every day, but today was just a little less dreadful. As much as I hated to admit it, I was looking forward to seeing Tristan.

  I slowly made my way to the cafeteria, for once holding my head up instead of staring at the ground. I scanned the small space looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. I don't know why, but disappointment washed over me and suddenly I wasn't very hungry. I was standing in line, tray in hand staring in a daze, when I felt a hand lightly touch my lower back. I instinctively turned in anticipation to fight off whoever was trying to touch me, when my eyes met those baby blues.

  "I'm sorry." He held his hands up in surrender.

  "Don't touch me, please." I spoke through gritted teeth.

  "I really am sorry, Riley. I wasn't thinking. It's nice to see you though."

  I tried my hardest to be mad at him, but all of my anger dissipated as he stood there looking down at me with that apologetic look on his face. "It's okay. You didn't know." I looked up at him and I could feel a brick from the wall around my heart fall. I clutched at my chest, not wanting this to happen. I needed that wall, and I wasn't willing to pull it down for anybody, no matter how good looking he was.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tristan

  The minute my hand made contact with her exposed skin, I knew I had done something wrong. I had never had a girl react the way that she had. I could see the terror in her eyes as I pulled my hand away. At that moment, I decided to find out what or who it was that had hurt this girl so badly that she couldn't even stand to be touched. I wanted to protect her with everything in me, more than I had ever wanted to protect anybody. My mom once told me that the hardest girl to get, would be the easiest to love. Until this day, I hadn't believed her.

  I had to take a step back when she turned towards me. My body felt like a thousand volts of electricity was running through it with her close proximity. All I wanted to do was pull her into my chest and hug her so deeply that she would never question again what it felt like to be loved or cared for. When I looked back down at her, I noticed that she looked different. Her hair was extremely long and beautiful. It hung to the waistband of her jeans, and now that she had discarded the sweatshirt and she was only wearing a thin tank top, I could see her figure. I would guess she had played sports when she was younger because she was more fit than most girls I had met her age. Her arms were lean and toned, and she had a tiny waist that barely held up her heavy denim jeans. She was gorgeous in every sense of the word. Her bright blue eyes stood out from underneath her dark black, mascara free lashes and her olive skin looked a little darker every time I saw her. Maybe she was a swimmer? That would definitely explain the physique and tan. I shook the thoughts from my head as I noticed a perplexed look sweep across her face.

  "What are you thinking about?" Her voice made my heart rate spike and that's when knew I was in trouble.

  "Nothing really. You going to eat today?" I pushed my hands back through my hair, which I only did when I was nervous, before fixing my eyes back on her.

  "I was thinking about it." Her voice had turned shaky, and I smiled internally knowing that I was having some sort of affect on her too.

  "You want to sit with me?"

  "I usually eat in my room."

  The silence that followed that statement was deafening, and I half expected her to take off running. The possibility of me scaring her off crossed my mind hundred times, so I decided to just play it cool. "Okay, well if you change your mind, I'll be over there." I pointed in the direction of a table far off in the corner where I sat everyday. "I'll see ya later, Riley."

  I stepped past her and started gathering an assortment of things for dinner. Unfortunately it was potluck day, so I was more than happy to opt for the pre-made sandwiches, a cup of Jell-O and milk. I started making my way over to my table, trying to ignore Riley in the process, but failing miserably. She was standing at the table, no tray or food in hand, waiting for me.

  "Did you decide to join me?" I asked as I closed the distance between us and then eventually took a seat.

  "Just for a minute."

  "By all means, have a seat please." I pointed at the chair across from me.

  "Thanks." She sat, arms folded across her chest, which only made her breasts pop out the top of her tank top, occupying all of my attention.

  I quickly adverted my gaze before she could notice. I didn't want to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she apparently already was. "So what's your story, Riley?"

  "Nothing like straight and to the point, huh?" She chided.

  "I'm sorry. I'm not used to tip toeing around peopl
e and their feelings. You don't have to tell me. I just thought I would try and make some conversation, that's all."

  "I'm sorry. I'm not used to people asking about me."

  "Now I find that hard to believe. You're beautiful. I'm sure there have been plenty of people who have wanted to get to know you."

  "No."

  Okay, obviously that was a touchy subject. Duly noted. "Alright well, is this your first time in here? I'm not sure what to ask and not ask, so bear with me." I smiled up at her in between taking a bit of my sandwich, but her eyes were firmly planted on the table.

  "Yes."

  I continued to eat while Riley continued to stare at the table. Obviously I was asking the wrong questions. Talking to Riley was starting to feel more like a chore than a way to pass the time, but I felt the urge to push her to find out more.

  "What about you?" Her voice was so quiet I wasn't even sure she was speaking to herself or me.

  "Me?"

  She nodded. "No, this is my fifth time here." That must've gotten her attention, because her headshot up and her eyes landed on mine.

  "Five times?"

  "Yeah. Let's just say I have a bad habit of giving up." I forked some Jell-O and placed the metal in my mouth.

  "Why?"

  Her question didn't surprise me. Most people wanted to know the exact same thing, especially my mother. But I wasn't about to give away such pertinent information when she was willing to give me nothing in return.

  "I'll make you a deal, Riley. I'll tell you if you tell me. Sound fair?" I could see the fear in her eyes as she mulled over my suggestion. "It's only fair. A question, for a question. You don't get to learn all about me and I learn nothing about you. Those are my terms." I sat back, sandwich in hand and watched every movement she made. She always seemed nervous and out of touch with what was going on around her. This was my opening to get inside and get to know the real Riley.

  Ten minutes of silence had passed when I glanced up at the clock, and I was growing a bit impatient. I didn't want to push her, but I also didn't want to waste my time on someone who felt as though time wasn't important. I was about to stand up and take my tray to the garbage can when she finally spoke.