Chasing River
: Chapter 8 – Exposure

Exposure

Dreamscape Journal entry 1: little boy blue

I AWOKE and I was sprawled on the ground amongst dirt and twigs, the earthy raw scent of it engulfed my senses. The faint hint of petrichor lingered in the air creating the illusion of a rain long poured. I gazed up at the night sky and through the thick coverage of sycamore trees above me, I could see the silver sliver of the moon. Winking at me, mocking me as if it held the knowledge of something I did not. The wind begun to howl and I hugged myself close for warmth, and when I returned my gaze to the woodland floor I met the eyes of a little boy.

He had a button nose dusted with freckles and dishevelled sandy hair, his eyes bright, wide and youthful. He offered me his hand and somehow I knew that it was safe for me to take it, I stood up and dusted off my long white nightgown. He led me towards an opening in the forest where there lay a field of evergreen grass, there were daisies sprouting out of the ground and fireflies illuminating and enchanting the already magical scene.

I looked closer and I could see another boy in the middle of the field, plucking daisies, threading a few through his raven hair, and looking around as though he were waiting for someone. His eyes were a curious marine blue, his skin fair and luminescent.

‘Is that your brother?’ I asked the little boy beside me but he only shook his head in disagreement. ‘He’s waiting for you.’

The little boy only released my hand and shook his head in refusal again gesturing for me to go to the other. I did as he asked and I made my way towards the fair-skinned boy in the field, he reached out to give me the daisy in his hand but when he saw who I was he was confused but still he placed it in my hair. I got the idea that it wasn’t me he was waiting for.

He looked past me over my shoulder and in turn did so. Then, the first little blonde-haired boy waved goodbye and the darker-haired boy began to chase after him, to stop him from leaving but it was too late, he had disappeared into the night and the second boy was left reaching for air. He collapsed to his knees and cried, sobs wracked his body like all hope was gone, and the fireflies’ light died out as though in tune to his sadness.

I ran after him to console him but he began to run away from me, and all I could do was chase him through the woods, shoving away branches and pushing past tall grass, I didn’t know why I felt like I needed to replace him, to hold him and be there for him but I did and I chased after him for dear life.

I awoke with a gasp, and I felt like I had just run a marathon. My alarm went off and I heard the water running in the shower, Keomi. Thank God she didn’t have to witness yet another embarrassing moment of mine. I raced to my design table, took my watercolours out of my drawer and begun to paint the scene before it disappeared completely from my mind. I recalled vivid images of folklore, fireflies in the dead of night, sycamore trees and lost boys.

By the time Keomi was done in the shower I was halfway finished with my painting and I had to suffer through a whole interrogation process about what I was painting, what the inspiration behind it was and if I was planning on turning in it. However, the thing was, not even I could explain the weird dreams I’d been having ever since I’d gotten here. My dream journal had never been more scribbled in.

I hopped in the shower and felt beyond relieved as the deliberately cold water ran down my body, and as the water soaked through my curls, I felt behind my ear for the daisy that was once there.

It was not.

My hair had suffered a surprising amount of shrinkage because of the water, I moisturized a fair amount of product through it before I grabbed my hair dryer and blew it out before tying it up in a small bun. I changed into a pair of painted denim bootleg jeans and a plain white tank top with spaghetti straps. I decided it was rather chilly outside so I threw a brown coat over it. Just then my cell phone began to ring, and to my surprise it was papa.

‘Hello?’ The voice said from the other end, it was not papa but my brother.

‘Jaadi, I have missed you so much!’ I exclaimed,

‘The house is empty without you here dada yangu,’ sister of mine,

‘I had hoped it wouldn’t be that way, you’ve got mama and papa who promised to keep you company while I was gone.’ I sighed leaning against the wall,

‘It’s not the same as with you, it’s strange to take Kibo out on walks in the park without you and to walk home from school alone.’ He mumbled and my heart ached for him,

‘I promise to send you postcards and pictures from Paris, I’ll be home for thanksgiving in no time,’ I assured him,

‘We don’t celebrate that selfish American holiday.’ Jaadi retaliated,

‘Of course not but all the American students are allowed to go home for the weekend because of it,’ I told him,

‘In that case, you must bring me back a box of those Parisian chocolates I see in all the movies.’ He insisted and I laughed,

‘Of course, class is soon, I have to go, you should call me more often,’ I added,

‘It makes it harder not to see you.’ He admitted before hanging up.

His words tattooed themselves onto my heart.

The first class of the day was core math, which I despised more than anything, all of my friends were in the advanced mathematics class and I was all alone with a bunch of people I didn’t know or talk to. My teacher Monsieur Marc was a pain in the ass and a total snob, he always pointed out everyone’s mistakes for the sole purpose of embarrassing them in front of the class. Which quite frankly was really low of him and I hated that. Your job as a teacher is to encourage, never ever to bring anyone down to fuel your own messed up superiority complex.

My next class was geography which I had with Merilla who was always helping me out with drawing maps because I was incredibly shitty at despite being an artist. Once Geo was over I grabbed my satchel and made my way out of the class, hoping to catch some peace and quiet in the left-wing library which was always empty. To my surprise, I had no such privilege.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw Fabian and River getting into a seemingly heated argument by the historical fiction section, I didn’t want to risk them hearing or seeing me so I hid behind a shelf and listened in— I couldn’t believe what I heard.

I leaned in closer so I could make out their heated conversation,

‘Why can’t you just leave her alone, all you’re doing is hurting her.’ Fabian pressed,

‘You don’t know that,’ River replied in his usual nonchalant tone,

‘Who do you think has to pick up the pieces every time you break her heart?’ Fabian attested,

‘I’d appreciate it if you’d let Armani speak for herself, last I’d checked she’s quite capable.’ River retorted, a faint grin playing on his face, “She does talk quite a lot.”

‘I’ve always particularly despised exchanging words with you River but I must ask,’ Fabian countered, stepping closer towards him, ‘do you care about anyone other than yourself?’

‘I care enough to allow her and anyone else to make their own choices, regardless if I agree with them or not.’ River defended, he held a serious expression, ‘And believe me when I say j’ai essayé.’ I’ve tried,

‘Well then try harder because Armani deserves better.’ Fabien declared and for a second I thought I saw a flash of emotion in River’s cold blue eyes.

“Better than me?” River responded sarcastically with a knowing smirk that brought heat to my cheeks.

“Yes better than you.” Fabian scoffed,

‘I know.’ He simply replied,

‘Do you even feel anything towards her?’ Fabian asked, stepping closer but River pressed an effortless hand to his chest to stop him from moving any closer.

“You and I both know that’s not a good idea.” River warned, “Masculinity contests aren’t really my thing.”

“Just answer the question.” Fabian urged swallowing and stepping back nervously.

‘Not that I owe you any explanations but if you must know, Armani to me is-‘ but before he could complete his sentence I found myself interrupting him.

All I knew was that some part of me couldn’t bear to hear the truth about what he felt towards me, I couldn’t bear to hear an answer that’d break my heart any further.

‘Hi!’ I exclaimed and their heads turned to face me, Fabian saw me and flushed taking a step back away from River who held an all-knowing smirk on his face almost as if he knew I’d been there all along, but that wasn’t possible, was it?

‘Are you guys here to study too?’ I asked,

“I don’t study,” River responded plainly. “I have a photographic memory.”

“We’re still yet to confirm that medically.” Fabian coughed rolling his eyes.

“He claims he also never lies,” I added jokingly,

“Is that so?” Fabian asked, almost as if he knew something I didn’t. “How fascinating, so tell us more Kennedy?”

“You’re both rather excruciating to converse with.” River deadpanned and Fabian and I laughed.

“I was actually about to work on my commerce assignment, if you have anything to work on we could study together?” Fabes offered,

“Of course!” I insisted, and I watch as River’s gaze narrows slightly at us, no one else would’ve noticed the subtle change in his demeanour, no one else but me who had been completely enamoured by him since the moment I saw him.

“I will leave you two alone then…” he concluded glancing away and furrowing his eyebrows in distaste.

“Hey man we never said you had to leave—” Fabian begun but River just shook his head, appearing slightly disoriented.

“It’s okay, À la prochaine.” He waved off, until next time.

River doesn’t think I noticed but he glanced back to look at me that day, with eyes anew, it was almost as if I too had awakened something long dormant inside him. Something ravenous and insatiable that would never rest again.

‘Okay, I’m sorry if things with River seemed tense for a moment there, I know you noticed it’s just that I-

I really care about you Armani and River and I haven’t been seeing eye to eye lately, that’s all.’ Fabian apologized and I could’ve sworn if he didn’t immediately turn away that his eyes began to fill with sadness.

“It’s okay, let’s just get to work yeah?” I suggested and he hooked an arm over my shoulder with a smile.

I sighed and made my way to the study area to do my math and geography homework, which took a very long time, much longer than I’d expected. And by the time I was done, I gazed out the window, it was dark and the sun had completely set in the sky. I checked my watch, it was three hours to midnight, at 9 PM. Fabes left an hour earlier because his roommate was giving him hell about cleaning. I packed away my books and made my way across campus and back to my dorm, a couple was making out with their door wide open in the room next to mine, which explained the constant sounds of a squeaky bed frame almost every night.

Keomi wasn’t in our room, and I didn’t expect her to be. She texted me earlier saying that she was hanging out at the mall with Geneviève tonight. I sighed in exhaustion and threw my satchel on my bed, then proceeded to throw myself onto it as well. I closed my eyes and wanted nothing but to rest for the rest of the night but then I felt something crumple beneath my head. I reached under my pillow and pulled out a note that read;

Armani,

Meet me in the art room, I think I’m ready to talk.

-RK

My heart fluttered at the sight of River’s undeniably beautiful and feminine presenting handwriting. For some reason every time I agreed to meet with him, I always came back in tears and confused. Not this time, this time if he let me down or pushed me away again, I think I’d simply take Fabian’s advice and leave him alone. No matter how painful and hard that would be, I would put myself first.

I made sure to text Keomi before I left, so she knew where I was. Mama told me that as a woman living in such a dark world, it’s important to always let your friends know where you’re going.

ME: Going to meet River, I’ll be back in a few x

KEOMI: Oooh, a booty call? Use protection, please.

ME: OMG Keomi It’s not like that??

KEOMI: My bottom drawer under the box of tissues 😉

ME: NO THANKS!!!

I laughed at Keomi’s assumption, I couldn’t possibly imagine such a thing, River barely wants to talk to me let alone let me in his bed. A small part of me wondered what that would be like though, to taste him again and have him taste me, to be tangled in his sheets, hot and sweaty and have it all be like the movies. It is important for me to confess that everything that I knew about love, romance and sex came from film and literature. I had never been in a relationship with, let alone felt a connection to someone as strong as the one I felt with River. But I knew better than to let my thoughts wander too far, I had to keep my newly awakened desire on a leash.

I grabbed my purse and made my way out of my dorm yet again. We weren’t allowed into the school building after dark, but ever since I’d come here I didn’t seem to follow many rules. I didn’t know who I was when I was with him, all I knew was that he was the only one who’d ever unlocked this hidden, secret part of my heart.

I wandered the halls of St Kathrine’s, moonlight shining through the tall stained-glass windows and nothing but the eerie sound of the hallowing wind and my footsteps to ease the silence. I climbed the staircase to the abandoned art room, which had a faint glow of candlelight shining from it. I turned the corner and pushed the door open and I nearly dropped my purse at the sight in front of me.

There were candles everywhere; on the tables and on the floor. There were two stools, one facing a blank canvas with its back turned to the other placed in front of it. Pots of paint of all different colours and brushes splayed on the floor and there at the center of the scene was the most beautiful thing of all, River.

He wore only a pair of plain black sweatpants and he looked awfully casual for the first time. His hair was messy and slept on and his eyes were restless yet still bewitching. He gestured to the higher stool for me to sit down, and I did just that, letting my purse fall to the floor.

‘Your shirt,’ River spoke, softly, once again in a tone I didn’t recognize, gentle, ‘take it off.’

He must’ve been out of his mind if he thought I’d simply take off my clothes for him with no objection. Did he respect me so very little that he thought I’d do so? I was trying my best not to yell at him and display the full extent of his insult.

‘No River, I’m not taking off my clothes at your mere request, are you drunk or something?’ I refused crossing my arms,

“I don’t drink, remember?” He reminded me,

“High?” I added narrowing my eyes in scrutiny,

“Seriously?” He sighed, his blue eyes glimmering in the faint candlelight, “I actually listened to the peer pressure seminars they gave in lycée.”

“Doesn’t matter!” I burst out, but his next gesture shocked me.

He stepped closer towards me, his eyes luring me in like a moth to a flame, my mouth suddenly went dry so I swallowed hard. River never broke eye contact when he knelt before me, his Cupid’s bow was prominent and sat like a crown above his rose-tinted lips. His jawline was sharper than scalpel blades and I dared not touch it in genuine fear that it might cut me. I could tell from the look in his eye that he was doing this deliberately, to show that he was disarming himself before me, to show that he was breaking down his glass castle. His shoulders were at arm’s length with my hips, he didn’t seem so guarded anymore, he was simply just a boy.

‘I just want to paint you.’ He declared and I was taken aback, “S’il vous plaît.” please.

‘What about me is so inspiring that I am worthy of your muse?’ I challenged slightly sarcastically, he looked down and smiled,

‘Tout…’ everything He stated as though I were mad not to see it,

I thought about it for a second and I realized that there wasn’t a single part of me that was reluctant to his offer, I wanted this, and I wanted to be River Kennedy’s muse. I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud so I simply nodded.

‘I need to hear you say yes.’ River insisted, hiking his delicate fingers up the backs of my legs.

‘Yes, I want you to paint me.’ I agreed.

He could feel my body shiver under his touch and he lifted an eyebrow in surprise, I didn’t know if it was the wonder that this was all so new to me or that it was really him having this effect on me. “Reste calme,” He insisted asking me to relax. “It’s just you and me.”

River’s hands wandered up slowly to the hem of my shirt and I raised my arms so he could lift the piece of material effortlessly off of my body. His hands were almost painfully patient, agonizingly sensual and I wanted nothing more than for them to never leave my body.

“This isn’t sexual right?” I asked him and he gave me an innocent yet conniving glare.

“No, it’s not.” He assured me then leaned in to whisper in my ear in a manner that left me breathless. “If it was you would know and wouldn’t be able to form an even remotely coherent sentence.”

‘Is that so?’ I hummed.

‘No this is not even remotely sexual.’ He assured me. ‘Well, not this time anyways.’

This time? Declare me utterly Intrigued.

River held my gaze as he unhooked my white bra and slid it off and the second his eyes met my bare breasts I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as I rushed to cover myself up with my hands but River was faster stopping me by gently placing his hands on my wrists.

‘Tu es très belle,’ River spoke almost breathlessly, you are very beautiful. And I felt like it. ‘Say it.’

‘River I-‘ I began but he cut me off,

‘Say it, and feel it.’ He persisted,

‘I am beautiful,’ I said and he smiled taking his bottom lip between his teeth and turning away.

“Yes, you are.” He assured me.

He lit the candle beside me for better lighting and made his way over to his seat across from me, the easel was turned so I couldn’t see what he was painting.

‘I see you in my dreams all the time..’ River confessed and I watched his left hand make delicate strokes on the easel, I never noticed he was left-handed. ‘It’s always the same dream; It starts with me in a labyrinth of sorts and I’m searching for you. I know you’re hiding from me in the darkness, and a part of me knows you don’t want me to replace you. And yet somehow I always do and every time I see you or touch you, you disappear.’ His eyes met mine, his stare was long and he paused before he continued. ‘You’re wearing a gold and white dress, it’s clean and pure and every time I touch you it turns black…like I’ve tainted you.’

“It’s just a dream,” I told him.

“They’re never just dreams.” He refuted shaking his head.

‘For how long?’ I asked, I needed to know, “Have you been dreaming about me?”

‘Since I met you. It doesn’t stop and tonight I couldn’t bear it so I had to paint you, It’s the only way I know how to deal with everything.’ He said switching from dark blue to brown paint, “I had a friend once.”

“A friend?”

“Yes. But he…passed away. I had never lost anyone I cared about before him, it wasn’t easy.”

“Look River you don’t have to talk about it—”

‘No, I want to. Painting; it’s the way that I dealt with Jace’s death and it’s the only thing I know, to paint. When he died I was in the darkest place I’d ever been in my entire life, It was like there was this force pressing down on me, this emptiness I couldn’t quite escape and I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this but-‘ River paused like he had to reach to a place deep inside him to get the words out,

“Take your time.” I insisted and he seemed surprised by my patience, he looked at me in a way he never had before.

‘I couldn’t do much except art, I was living at my parents’ house at the time and the walls of my childhood bedroom were plastered with paintings I couldn’t remember painting. That’s how bad things got and I didn’t tell them when he died, so when they heard they came home and their only son was quite literally driving himself insane.’ He expressed with a sad laugh.

My heart ached for him, and it took everything I had not to race over to him and try to somehow take his pain away. It was bizarre, how I could feel his pain in place of him, it scared me that I cared for him that much. I wanted to speak, but I knew it was best to let him speak, to let him talk for once.

‘I was put on Prozac by our family doctor-‘.

‘Prozac?’ I asked not sure what he was talking about,

‘Fluoxetine, an antidepressant.’ He clarified and my heart sank, I couldn’t believe he was telling me this.

‘I was on them for months and the side effects were that not only did they make me numb and senseless, but I couldn’t sleep. A lot of people don’t realize that the job of antidepressants isn’t to make you happy, it’s just to make sure you don’t feel any overwhelming emotions that might lead you to do something you might regret. And a part of me didn’t want to sleep regardless, because I was afraid that if I slept.’ He paused swiping the brush across the canvas, ‘I would wake up, and that I’d be alone again. I recognize that that’s utterly depressing and grim but it’s the truth— it’s my truth Armani.’

‘River I-‘ I begun but he spoke once more,

‘I’m not on them anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He responded with a sad excuse for a laugh, “But the sleeplessness never left hence the sleeping pills.’ He told me, and I recalled our conversation that night on the Eiffel Tower, he looked up at me again and then his expression fell, ‘You must understand that there’s a lot I’m still trying to figure out and deal with, so I can’t and I won’t be the person you need me to be for you.’ He said as though that very sentence was intended to be the final thing that pushed me away once and for all, tears spilt from my eyes uncontrollably.

It was then I knew, his pain in the most curious of ways, was my pain. That I was doomed to feel his emotions vicariously, I felt like I was losing it.

‘Come.’ I simply beckoned, and he placed the paintbrush in water and made his way over to me, once again kneeling between my legs.

‘I accept you as you are, completely and absolutely.’

River looked down for a while and let go of a breath I don’t even think he realized he was holding. He gazed up at me and wiped away my tears. He stood up, his eyes a little brighter, Still devouring me at his very glance.

‘Stand.’ He instructed holding out his hand to me and I lifted myself from my seat and took his hand, which moulded perfectly into mine.

River pulled me towards him, my bare chest on his, and I try my best not to gasp at the sudden contact. He placed his hand on the small of my back and I impulsively leaned into his touch, I tilt my head back and he placed a slow trail of kisses down my neck and I was in pure ecstasy. His mouth was hot and oddly familiar against my skin, soft yet daring. He trailed his kiss lower to my chest,

‘I won’t take the liberty to touch you in that way just yet,’ River spoke as his lips pressed to my shoulder. I groaned in frustration and I could feel him grin against my skin.

His kisses turned wet and sloppy trailing back to my neck as I laced my fingers through the wisps of his dark hair, I felt his breath hitch at the contact as he moved his lips down to my belly— slow and agonizingly passionate.

‘River…’ I almost moaned, his name a sin on my lips like I was praying to the devil himself.

And then he stopped releasing me from his touch and lowering me back onto the seat, he returned to his place across the room.

‘My name sounds good only on your tongue.’ He smiled his tauntingly beautiful smile. “Only on yours.”