Straightjacket by Meredith Towbin Page A

named Samuel.”
    “And…who’s that?”
    “He’s kind of like a guide.”
    “Like, what kind of guide?”
    He was proud of himself for focusing on the work and not the dark blue specks in her eyes. She was coming along with him; maybe he could lead her a little further and toward herself.
    “When you first get to heaven, they give you a guide to teach you how things work. Samuel was mine.” Despite her barrage of questions, it was clear that she was growing uncomfortable. It looked like she had moved away from him a little when he hadn’t noticed. Despite the sudden urge to slide across the couch to make them close again, he managed to hold himself back.
    “Then how come you’re still talking to him? You’re not in heaven anymore.”
    “Because…” He swallowed hard, trying to push his mounting craving for her down deep where he couldn’t feel it. “He’s still helping me, in a way. I’m not in heaven because I was sent here to do something.”
    “Do what?”
    “I don’t know if I should tell you.” It was true; he wasn’t just trying to keep her interested. Maybe this was enough for now. Revealing too much too soon might push her away.
    “No, tell me. I want to know.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yeah, tell me.”
    “It has to do with you.”
    “With me?” Her voice was a little hostile. “What do you mean? What does it have to do with me?”
    “I was sent here to help you.”
    She shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Help you—” His mouth was so dry. He had to look away from her. As each second passed, he was falling deeper and deeper into something that he wasn’t supposed to be feeling.
    “Help show you that it doesn’t have to be this way.” He blurted it out, before he did something he’d regret. “You don’t deserve—deserve the way you’re treated. You’re strong. You’re not alone.” He was starting to ramble, but he didn’t know exactly how to say it. “You’re worth something, worth a lot. If you could just get away from your parents, you’d see.”
    She was silent. It seemed like forever. Her head fell forward and soon the fabric of her hoodie was dappled with dark spots. Moist trails ran down her cheeks. She was so quiet; he wouldn’t have guessed she was crying if he hadn’t seen her.
    What the hell did he just do? He’d given too much away. He definitely didn’t want to make things worse for her. Seeing her like this, he hated himself for making her so miserable. And then—a sudden urge to grab her, pull her close and kiss her so hard that he couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t feel the pain anymore. She was so sweet, so good, and he didn’t want to have to wait for her to save herself. He wanted to save her now, all on his own.
    “Anna, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said over and over, despising himself for handling this in exactly the wrong way. He was desperate to reach out for her hands but stopped himself.
    “I—I just don’t…” She was trying to answer, but he could tell that she couldn’t straighten things out in her head.
    “You don’t know anything about me,” she managed.
    He didn’t know what to say. The only thing he could think was please don’t leave.
    “Why do you have to put me in the middle of your problems? If you want to live like this, making things up, that’s your problem, but don’t make me feel—feel like crap and drag me down with you.” She brushed away the sticky hair that tears had pasted onto her cheek.
    “That’s not what I’m trying to do—”
    “I know you saw me with my parents before, but you don’t know anything about me.”
    “I’m sorry. I saw what they were doing to you—”
    “Just leave me alone. My life is none of your business.” She jumped up and ran toward the door. In her haste she accidently slammed her thigh into a chair and stumbled. Caleb leaped up, terrified that she was hurt, but before he could get near her, she shoved the chair