The Butterfly and The Moth

22

Sterling didn't push the subject. Thankfully.

He simply said his words without accusation, sweeping his eyes along my bare face for a few seconds longer. After that, he finally led me to his car. He had been quieter than usual, as he drove. I wasn't complaining.

He sat next to me in class, again. I noticed people's eyes this time, as they watched the way he seemingly clung to my side. They weren't particularly confused, more amused. I could have wondered what thoughts and assumptions raged through their minds but I didn't have the energy to expand my mind past what it was already preoccupied with.

Erik, and his poisonous words. "You need to do better, Dahlia." They repeated through my mind over and over. Then, the thoughts of Erik broke only to thoughts of my sister. Then, those thoughts broke to thoughts of Sterling.

The lie was beginning to feel too big, too crowded. There were too many eyes on it, now. Too many thoughts, too many opportunities to see the lies and tell them apart from the truth that deep down, I knew it would break me to come out.

By the time class had ended, and Sterling had shepherded me into his car like he was a dog and I was the sheep, my mind was obsessing over the eyes that glanced down on my lie, whether those eyes knew the lie they looked at, or not.

If Sterling figured out the lie, so would Daisy. Hell, Sterling would run to Daisy himself, I was sure of it. What loyalty did he owe me? None, but a better question was what loyalty did he even want to owe me? Just the same amount.

He couldn't figure it out. If Sterling understood, my new life was over. Daisy would want nothing to do with me, and Sterling wouldn't either.

Would he take back the blankets?

"Dahlia," Sterling interrupted my thoughts. I blinked twice, seeing my surroundings. We were already in front of Daisy's house, and the car was off.

"What?" I said, blankly and dumbly at the same time. I braced myself for his questioning. Has he already figured it out? Would he simply come out and say it?

"Are you okay?" He surprised me by asking, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. It was like he was controlling it on purpose.

"What?" I said quickly, trying to force a chuckle out of my lips for the sake of my facade. I wasn't sure if it worked.

Sterling didn't seem convinced. He reached out suddenly, his right hand moving towards my legs. I panicked for a second, not for long but for long enough. I thought about moving away, quickly like he was going to burn me with his skin. But in less than a second, it seemed I had weighed the risk, and didn't.

I watched Sterling's hand as it moved, in distant curiosity, until it landed gently on my hand. I stared at it, not understanding his motive nor the purpose of his touch against mine. I only felt the gentle touch of his fingers against the top of my hand for a second, before he spoke and broke my trance.

"Relax," he said softly, not looking at my face though the sound of his word had prompted me to look at his. He was staring down at my hand with a crinkled brow.

I didn't know what he meant until he used his fingers to unhook my tight grasp, one finger by one. I looked back down. I hadn't realized it, but I had been gripping the side of my seat so tightly, my muscles cramped and the skin that covered my knuckles had turned bright white.

"Let go," Sterling whispered again, gently, and my body seemed to listen to him rather than my brain. I relaxed, my hand now feeling empty as I let the leather seat fall away.

I whipped my head away from him, and my hand at the same time. I cradled it in my other hand, pulling them into my lap, my eyes focused on them as if I was steadying them closely.