I'll Share With You My Heartbeat

twenty two

Lennon needed a clear mind. Though a clear mind was almost impossible to achieve, considering the thousands of voices echoing through the boy's head all the time.

He arrived at the metal gate between the two restaurants, pressing his phone against his ear. "I need a password," he said.

"Nah. Gimme one second. I'll come down and let you in."

The boy licked his lips, tasting the saltiness of rainwater as he surveyed the puddles under his feet. The little mirrors on the ground reflected the dreary gray sheet of the clouds. Lennon dipped the tip of his boot in one, smiling wistfully as the water rippled like his scattering emotions.

"Oh shit you're soaked," Cal laughed, approaching the gate. He unlocked it swiftly and led Lennon towards the elevator. "Did you not know that it was going to rain today?"

"I forgot. But at least your ingredients aren't wet."

Cal brought the boy up to his two-story apartment, grinning when Lennon dropped his things by the door and did a double-take.

"This is your place?" he exclaimed, jaw on the ground as Cal nudged the door shut.

It was spacious, with ceiling-to-floor windows that allowed endless streaks of gloomy tones in, drenching the home with the absence of sunlight that day. A bookshelf stood adjacent to the dust-covered fireplace. Household items were pushed aside on both ends of the floor, suggesting that Cal had made a futile attempt to tidy things up before Lennon's arrival.

"Mostly my parents," Cal corrected, placing the flour and the small bottled vanilla extract on the counter before thanking Lennon for taking the trip to the supermarket.

"Where are your parents?"

"Don't ask me." He shrugged. "I haven't seen them in over a year." He tossed the chestnut boy a towel to dry off in.

Lennon began ruffling his hair with it, taking a pause by the window and peering down at the busy streets. He wondered if this was Kieran's view whenever he floated. "Your parents travel a lot? Business people?"

"My mom is. My dad's a literature professor at this university, hence all the classics." Cal gestures towards the books lined up on the shelves and turned back to his kitchen. "Do you have any frosting preferences?"

"Anything's fine."

"Chocolate buttercream it is."

"You need help reading the recipe or something?" Lennon teased, running a hand along the rim of the baking pan.

"Nope." Cal tapped his index finger on his temple in triumph. "It's all in here. Plus, not having my glasses doesn't make me blind."

The chestnut boy smiled, staring into the far distance. Maybe baking would take his mind off things. "The same question remains— why not just get a new pair of them?"

"It's complicated."

Lennon shot him a glance, lining a piece of parchment fitted to the cake pan. Guess there were still walls Cal hadn't found the courage to tear down.

"I don't want to talk about it, if that's what you're here for." He stopped working completely, turning to face Lennon. "I don't want you to be here out of sympathy."

His high chair scraped across the floor when Lennon settled into it. "You can't expect me not to care. Besides, sympathy isn't a bad thing," he claimed, "Though if it makes you feel better, I'm here cause I needed to get my mind off something. Not to interrogate you."

Cal looked a touch relieved, jumping at the opportunity to change the topic. "Get your mind off what?"

"I've been a little... confused, lately."

"Confused over what?"

A grin pulled at Lennon's lips, gently hitting Cal's shoulder with the whisk. "Are you interrogating me now?"

The blonde grabbed ahold of a spoon and whacked him back. "Depends on what you want to call it," he replied, "Pass me the butter, Lenny."

Lennon obeyed. "So..." he started, drawing out the syllable for effect, "Are you good at advice-giving?"

"Not really. But I can pretend I am for your sake."

The boy leaned against the marble counter, rehearsing his troubles. "I thought I figured myself out when I first moved here. I thought I figured out how to be myself" —he performed two air quotes— "as everyone tells me to do. But the more I act like myself, the more confused I get."

Cal shrugged. "Sounds pretty bullshit. I don't think any of us has it all figured out. Plus, your image of yourself can change constantly."

"I was gonna focus on finding a job, paying my tuition, and hopefully pursuing some kind of photography career," Lennon added as if that brought any depth to his situation.

"So? What went off track?"

"Nothing I just— I didn't want to get involved in relationships until I had all that taken care of."

It was like a switch flipped. Cal's busy hands stopped in their tracks. "Is this about a girl?" he inquired slowly, "Or a guy, if you swing that way."

"I swing both ways," Lennon laughed, "But I don't think I trust my feelings just yet— or ever, actually."

"Why?"

"I just think people should only date to marry."

Cal inhaled sharply. "Lenny, that's the single-handedly most stupid thing I've ever heard."

"Why? If you don't marry, then what's the point?"

The blonde didn't reply right away, instead prioritizing dividing the batter into the pans and get to baking. Lennon helped in any way he could, apologizing profoundly every time he made a mistake.

"I see where your problem is. You're an all-or-nothing kind of person." Cal crouched down and tapped his knuckles against the glass of the heated oven. "See this cake? I think it tastes absolutely horrible."

Lennon paused for a few seconds. "But you haven't even tried it."

"Yeah so tell me, have you tried every person on this planet and assessed if they're marriage material yet?"

But Kieran isn't cake.

"But I'm absolutely positive I can't marry him," the boy said instead.

Cal sighed. Something about his exasperation told Lennon there was something deeper to his words. "Don't wait, Lennon. Don't sit around questioning and waiting for the right time. That doesn't exist. There's not enough time in life to worry about right timing."

The chestnut boy's face twisted into a question mark. "You're speaking from experience, aren't you?" As soon as the question left his mouth, his brows bunched and he looked away, fearing that he had overstepped a boundary.

But regardless, Cal answered with a one-shoulder shrug, hiding his eyes behind his lashes. "Yeah. I waited too long."

There was nothing like spending a rainy evening in the home of someone you never dreamed of being friends with. It made Lennon smile in some twisted sense, knowing he was the first to witness Cal remove a cake from his oven for the first time in a long time.

Life wraps these little surprises in golden ribbons and leaves them at your doorstep unannounced. And whenever Lennon felt as if he had defied the fate of the universe— befriended someone he wasn't meant to befriend— it gave him thrill.

A calming ambiance fogged over the pair, each enjoying a delicate piece of chocolate buttercream cake, the sweetness melting into their taste buds and making them hum in satisfaction.

Contrary to Cal's earlier sarcastic statements, the cake tasted like heaven never knew hell. So what if Kieran was no different?

"I called him my friend like five times last week."

"That's on you, buddy."