Page 37 of Spiral

I run the lead of my pencil softly across the margins of my notebook, not looking up at him. He shifts in his chair slightly.

Great, I’ve scared him off. He’s probably running for the door-

“You are such an incredible person, Georgia.”

He leans closer to me, his eyes locking with my own. The soft thud of my heartbeat quickens as he reaches out a muscular hand and gently places it on top of mine. His palms are calloused, yet soft, and the warmth of his skin directly contrasts with the chill of the room, sending shivers up my body.

“What?” I ask, my voice barely rising above a whisper.

“You must have gone through so much. I can’t even imagine… and yet, here you are, such an amazing writer, with perfect grades, so strong, and kind, and beauti-” he clears his throat, stopping himself. “I wish I could’ve met you when we were little kids. I would have been your friend. I would’ve taken care of you.”

Before he can say more, my lips are pressed against his – the scent of clary sage and lavender surrounding us both as I breathe him in. I settle myself on his lap, one hand resting against his chest and the other cradling his chiseled jaw. He kisses me back, fervently, as if he can’t miss one moment of my lips pressed against him. His free hand slowly makes its way up my spine, cradling my back, before gently grasping my hair at the nape of my neck.

The warmth of his body radiates against my skin as I lean into him, his muscles contracting with every movement as he presses further into me. He smiles against my lips and we break for a moment, our quickened breaths in sync with one another as our mouths barely touch. Henry pulls back, ever so slightly, and allows his gaze to trail from my lips to my eyes. Without a word, he cradles my head in his hand and gently guides me towards him, placing a kiss on my forehead.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t c–

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his brow furrowed. His eyes scan my face quickly for answers as he lifts his thumb to my cheek and delicately wipes away the single tear streaming down it.

The intimacy of the moment is almost too much for me. How kind he is, how sweet he smells, how handsome he looks. I’ve never told anyone about my family except for Eleanor – and Patrick. When Patrick learned about my parents, he seemed embarrassed for me. He made comments about how he “hopes I don’t pass on those traits to our kids” because “addiction and mental illness are genetic.” He’d scoff if I ever spoke about how much their abandonment hurt me, how hard it was to live for years with a family that wasn’t your own – no matter how much I love Eleanor.

“Georgia?” he reiterates.

“I–” I bite my lower lip, unsure of how vulnerable I should be with him. “No one’s ever been this nice to me before. Well, except Eleanor.”

“I’ll always be nice to you, Georgia. Always.” He rubs his hand against his forehead and groans slightly. “I still feel like such a dick for calling you a snitch that day. I’m so sorry, Georgia, I really am.”

I shuffle on his lap, uncomfortable at the mention of that word.

Snitch.

“Henry… I’m gonna say this quickly.” I let out a deep breath and straighten my spine, facing him. His green eyes meet mine, glimmering with curiosity and intrigue.

“They called me a snitch because the assistant manager at my old store tried to… rape me.”

I hate that word.

A look of confusion, then a look of anger, flashes across Henry’s expression.

“I came in for the opening shift at the store and my assistant manager was the only other person there. I went to clock in and he cornered me at the back of the store. He’d always been kind of a creep – staring at me too much and whatnot – but he’d never actually gotten so close to me. He was like two inches away from me before he put his arms out, pinning me against the wall.”

I pause for a moment, gauging Henry’s reaction. His eyes are bright with anger, his jaw set tight as a vise. He nods tersely for me to continue.

“He told me that he’d been checking me out – that I have an incredible ass and tits and that he wanted me. He told me if I wanted to keep my job, I needed to blow him.”

I look down and notice that Henry’s hands have balled into fists, his knuckles white from squeezing so tight, but he says nothing.

“I tried to move, but he gripped his hand onto my arm and held me where I was. He told me that he’d turned off the security cameras that morning and that I had no choice but to do what he said, whether I wanted to keep my job or not. Luckily another coworker of mine walked into the back room just then. A sales guy. I didn’t know him well, and when he walked in and saw what was happening, my assistant manager pinned the whole thing on me. Told the coworker he was holding me back because I was ‘making moves’ on him inappropriately and trying to seduce management for my personal gain–”

“Did he believe the manager?” Henry interrupts, his voice hoarse and low.

I nodded.

“A few days later, I went to HR and told them everything. What I didn’t know at the time was that the guy who assaulted me was best friends with our store manager, Ricky. HR forced Ricky to fire his own best friend because of what happened, and he never forgave me. When I transferred to University Station for school, he called my new boss and told her not to trust me. That I was a snitch.” I spit the words out in disgust, my features forming into a scowl.

“It was super hard to make friends at my new job here. Nobody knew what actually happened. Ricky had said that I frame my coworkers and get them fired, that I’m a liar. And of course my new manager repeated that story to everyone at our job, including Danny… anyway, I’ve hated that word ever since.”

I fold my hands in my lap and look down, fiddling with my thumbs.