the guy who has more balls than I ever will. The one who didn’t run when his mom was dying. Who stayed and would have burned the whole fucking world to the ground if it would have saved her because she meant more to him than himself or anything else. I never could have stayed and now I just keep running. Maybe not physically anymore, but my mind and heart are backpacking through the darkest corners of the world trying to get farther and farther away.
What would have happened if one, just one fucking teacher or neighbor or anyone would have opened their eyes? Would have looked deep into that quiet kid I used to be to find the war that raged around inside me?
Maybe… just maybe things would have been different.
So that’s what I see when I look at him. That dull, sad blue because I take the time to look below the surface.
“Well?” Cheyenne asks, pulling me out of those thoughts I lose myself in so much.
“Hello, window, meet hand.” I smile before sitting down.
* * *
We hang out for a while before Cheyenne goes into the bathroom to start getting ready to meet her friend Andy. Andy’s her roommate at school, even though Chey really stays with Colt. It works for both of them because it gives Andy time with her girl and Chey time with Colt.
I know they’re both wondering what I’m doing here, but they don’t ask and I don’t offer. Colt has to go to work in a while. Still feels crazy to think those words but he’s got a part-time job and is taking a few classes. His schedule isn’t as intense as it was before because he doesn’t know what he wants to do, which to me means he really does know what he wants—to be happy and not to settle.
Just as Cheyenne’s coming out of the bathroom, I see Casper’s dark hair as she walks toward her car. I push to my feet. Her brother’s motorcycle is here, too, and the last thing I feel like is a run-in with him. “Catch you guys later,” I say as I move to the door.
“Great. Now that Chey’s leaving, you go,” Colt calls from behind me. I know he won’t give it another thought, but I can pretty much promise Cheyenne’s going to wonder what’s up with me running out, so I close the door before she gets a chance to say anything.
I take the stairs two at a time. Casper is walking away from her car. I cross my arms as I walk up to her, smirk, and then keep going so I can lean against her car.
I hear her say, “Oh-kay,” before she turns around and takes the few steps back to me. “You’re here for your stuff, I’m assuming?” She crosses her arms like I do, but her body is stiff, her voice slightly off, and I think she’s trying to sound more indifferent than she really is.
“Maybe.” I shrug. “And maybe finishing what we started this morning?”
She’s wearing makeup, her eyes painted dark and her lips red, but the lips are natural.
“Adrian… that was a mistake. I… there’s so much going on. I just can’t.”
The urge to ask her what’s going on rapidly boils inside me, threatening to spill over, but I clamp the lid down. “Are you sure? It would be fun. Nothing more than that, but a whole lot of fun.”
She shakes her head, looks behind her and then at me again. “Why are you pursuing me? I’m sure there are a hundred other girls out there looking for the kind of fun you want to have.”
I want to tell her it’s because secrets don’t reflect in the eyes of other girls. Pain doesn’t show, but I’ve already showed her other little pieces of me, which I want back. I’m not like Colt. I have no intention to stop running.
Anger replaces the urge to talk. Like a magic trick I didn’t know I could perform, one is replaced by the other and I don’t know how it got there. Or why I’m so pissed. Because she called me out? Because she doesn’t want me? Because my body is really jonesing for her? Or maybe because I really want to know about that look in her eyes.
“You make a good point. If you’ll give me my stuff, I’ll be
What would have happened if one, just one fucking teacher or neighbor or anyone would have opened their eyes? Would have looked deep into that quiet kid I used to be to find the war that raged around inside me?
Maybe… just maybe things would have been different.
So that’s what I see when I look at him. That dull, sad blue because I take the time to look below the surface.
“Well?” Cheyenne asks, pulling me out of those thoughts I lose myself in so much.
“Hello, window, meet hand.” I smile before sitting down.
* * *
We hang out for a while before Cheyenne goes into the bathroom to start getting ready to meet her friend Andy. Andy’s her roommate at school, even though Chey really stays with Colt. It works for both of them because it gives Andy time with her girl and Chey time with Colt.
I know they’re both wondering what I’m doing here, but they don’t ask and I don’t offer. Colt has to go to work in a while. Still feels crazy to think those words but he’s got a part-time job and is taking a few classes. His schedule isn’t as intense as it was before because he doesn’t know what he wants to do, which to me means he really does know what he wants—to be happy and not to settle.
Just as Cheyenne’s coming out of the bathroom, I see Casper’s dark hair as she walks toward her car. I push to my feet. Her brother’s motorcycle is here, too, and the last thing I feel like is a run-in with him. “Catch you guys later,” I say as I move to the door.
“Great. Now that Chey’s leaving, you go,” Colt calls from behind me. I know he won’t give it another thought, but I can pretty much promise Cheyenne’s going to wonder what’s up with me running out, so I close the door before she gets a chance to say anything.
I take the stairs two at a time. Casper is walking away from her car. I cross my arms as I walk up to her, smirk, and then keep going so I can lean against her car.
I hear her say, “Oh-kay,” before she turns around and takes the few steps back to me. “You’re here for your stuff, I’m assuming?” She crosses her arms like I do, but her body is stiff, her voice slightly off, and I think she’s trying to sound more indifferent than she really is.
“Maybe.” I shrug. “And maybe finishing what we started this morning?”
She’s wearing makeup, her eyes painted dark and her lips red, but the lips are natural.
“Adrian… that was a mistake. I… there’s so much going on. I just can’t.”
The urge to ask her what’s going on rapidly boils inside me, threatening to spill over, but I clamp the lid down. “Are you sure? It would be fun. Nothing more than that, but a whole lot of fun.”
She shakes her head, looks behind her and then at me again. “Why are you pursuing me? I’m sure there are a hundred other girls out there looking for the kind of fun you want to have.”
I want to tell her it’s because secrets don’t reflect in the eyes of other girls. Pain doesn’t show, but I’ve already showed her other little pieces of me, which I want back. I’m not like Colt. I have no intention to stop running.
Anger replaces the urge to talk. Like a magic trick I didn’t know I could perform, one is replaced by the other and I don’t know how it got there. Or why I’m so pissed. Because she called me out? Because she doesn’t want me? Because my body is really jonesing for her? Or maybe because I really want to know about that look in her eyes.
“You make a good point. If you’ll give me my stuff, I’ll be
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