Break Through by Amber Garza Page B

sitting on the back porch sipping iced tea. I tucked my feet up under my body, a little embarrassed at how dirty they were. Carter leaned back in the Adirondack chair, his khaki pants rustling with the movement. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and his tousled hair fell right above them across his forehead.
    “So no more Neil?”
    “No more Neil.” He shook his head, his lips curving in a smile.
    My shoulders relaxed , and I exhaled.
    “You’re relieved?”
    “Very,” I answered.
    When he turned toward me, my own reflection stared back through his dark lenses. Un comfortable, I glanced down at the cup of iced tea in my lap.
    “What is your biggest fear?” He asked.
    “In life?” I ran my fingers over the condensation on my glass, drawing a swirly pattern. As a child, I loved to draw. One Christmas my parents bought me a huge kit filled with paper, crayons, markers and colored pencils. I had every color imaginable in that kit. I would spend hours drawing pictures and coloring in my coloring books. Mom used to tape them up all over the fridge as if our kitchen was a shrine to my art; my own personal art museum. She used to tell me I would grow up to be a famous artist. But Kurt never let me have crayons or pens. All I had was a few dolls and stuffed animals. That was it. No books, no paper, nothing to draw with. Sometimes I would draw on the carpet with my fingertips, little hearts or balloons in the thick reeds. When I returned Mom tried to get me interested in art again, but it was futile. I felt like that was part of who I used to be; a girl I didn’t even know anymore. Still sometimes I found myself doodling as if that little girl inside was trying to get out.
    “No,” he clarified. “About this article.”
    “Oh.” I puckered my lips, thinking. The answer was simple, but I didn’t want to share it. That he’ll find me again. That he’ll come out of hiding and come looking for me. I knew it would make me sound stupid. I was an adult. There was no way he could hurt me now. So I kept my thoughts to myself and went with my second fear. “Reliving everything, I guess. I mean, it is one thing to think about it, but another to have to vocalize it; to remember all the details.”
    “Then you won’t have to.”
    “What?” How could we do an article if I didn’t share the details?
    “You can share whatever you feel comfortable sharing. I don’t need to know all the details. Most of them I can get from newspaper articles from the time you were taken and when you escaped.”
    “Really?” I had never thought it could be so simple.
    “The first day I met you I promised to make this as painless as possible, and I never go back on my word.” He winked. “I do hope you’ll let me take some more pictures though. We got some good shots , but I’d still like a few more.”
    I nodded. “Of course.” Bringing the tea to my lips, I took a sip. The sweet, cold liquid swam down my throat. A gentle breeze blew over my face, carrying with it a floral scent.
    “ Do you have any siblings?” Carter set his iced tea on the porch, the ice cubes clinking against the side of the glass.
    “No.” I shook my head. “ I was sort of a miracle baby. Years before I was conceived Mom had been told she couldn’t have children. She was devastated and planned to adopt one day. But then by some miracle she got pregnant with me. I think I was pretty spoiled because of it.” A small laugh escaped. “What about you? Are you an only child?”
    His eyes darkened , and I immediately regretted the question. “Yeah.” It was odd the way he responded to this, almost like he was unsure of the answer. “But I’m not the one being interviewed here.” Even though he attempted a nonchalant laugh, it came out strained.
    I watched him for a moment, wondering what he was hiding before saying, “Well, then interview away.”
    Carter chewed on his bottom lip , and I found my gaze lingering on his mouth. I’d never been kissed. In fact,