Immoral Innocence {H.S}

"Dont listen to her baby you're perfect just the way you are." 1.

STATUS: DISCONTINUED!

On Tuesday I watched him read To Kill A Mockingbird from my bedroom window.

My blinds were drawn, only slightly. A strip of dim light could be seen from where the curtains weren't pulled together enough. Some things were just blur from what I could see. I didn't want to make my presence known, especially not to him.

He laid there entangled in a cocoon of blue silk sheets, stiff and lifeless, while he flipped pages of the book in the deepest concentration- every hair on his head out of place. This was the side no one saw- the beautiful side. The side where he could read a book, a mop full of unruly curls, half naked and still look divine.

The only thing that stood between us were the bricks that separated our houses and his girlfriend who I saw in his room almost every night and who I saw leave early almost every morning.

I was sure he'd never noticed me staring at him everyday. I was certain he didn't know me. And I was positive that he'd never want to know me either- even though I knew his favourite books, favourite TV show, favourite cologne and favourite snack just from close examination. I knew everything that could possibly be important- except his name.

In the Easter of last year, when him and his friends had decided to sit in his back garden and smoke, I heard a few different names being thrown back and fourth. I noted them down so I never forgot- and also so I could rule out the impossibilities.

Hardin,
Meridian,
Edward,
Wesley,
Heath,
Hank
And Harry.

On the weekend before last, he'd opened his window for air while play fighting with his girlfriend who yelled "H, stop it."

Hardin,
Heath,
Hank
Or Harry.

This weekend the six boys were in the garden again. A row of spirits lining the wall. A lanky older looking boy accidentally smashed all eight bottles of liquor into my garden- shattered glass harbouring my patio for days. "HEATH!" All five boys yelled in unison.

Hardin, Hank or Harry.

So there were three possibilities from what I could tell, all similar. Initially he screamed Hardin but my senses weren't always correct, at first I thought maybe he was Meridian which was blatantly wrong. The curiosity was close to eating me alive, for a lifetime all I'd longed for was to know this angels name.

"Louisa, could you come down to the dining room please? Dinners waiting." My mother cooed from downstairs sounding a bit more compassionate then her usual bitter tone.

I scurried down the overly ornate staircase that consumed over a third of the entire house. Everything here was so dull, the whole house mahogany hardwood with aztec patterned rugs and decorations- with black chandeliers hanging from every ceiling and stained glass windows.

I tiptoed into the dining room- the only chairs out of the sixteen being used where at each end of the table- my mother and father sat patiently with a fillet of salmon and salad in front of them.

"This is a ridiculous size portion mother." I said, trying my hardest not to anger my mother by being rude.

"It's big enough. You don't need to gain even more weight. Let's be real Louisa." I slid into a seat purposely closer to my father to escape my mothers wickedness.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Only, your big. Maybe dieting will be good for you. Joining the netball team isn't doing wonders now is it? In fact, maybe I should start making you vegan meals." She tutted, shaking a considerable amount of pepper over her fish.

"Bitch." I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for father to hear. He playfully slapped my arm but thought nothing else of it. I was sure 99% of the time he's thinking the same thing, but he usually stayed out of the heated discussions between me and mother.

I prodded at my slamon for the whole thirty minutes it took for father to clear his plate. Mother came around collecting each of our plates as she did so.

"Finished Louisa?" She said staring at the full plate. Not even a salad leaf was eaten.

"Yes mother." I said, pushing my plate out in front of me.

"Good girl. Let's get you skinny." She smiled enthusiastically patting me on the head and rushing out with my plate of food before I changed my mind.

"Don't listen to her baby, you're perfect just the way you are." Father winked, sliding out of his chair while wiping the sides of his mouth with a ruby red napkin.

I stayed in the dining room for a while, my elbows on the burgundy hardwood while my head was prompted into my palms.

Mother was right, I was a tad chubbier then most- that's partially why she was embarrassed to send me to school. But I was happy in my own way. Happy enough. But I would have been a lot happier if I knew what 'H's' name was.