Supernovas & Escapism

Chapter Thirteen

      There's a still numbness that wafts through the air. Part of me wants to just blame it on the changing Virginia seasons, but I know there's more than that behind it.

     Right now, it just feels as if memories that I've held off on being open about have wrapped their tendrils around my throat. It flows like an open wound whose tourniquet is made up of fragile half-truths whispered in the dark. I can feel all the rawness of that evening burn into me again. The pain that once resided in my arm flares back up as if even the notion of remembrance was a cue for it to take to the stage.

     I prayed more than anything that he would back down. There was something about him that seemed so insecure; like this one thing that kept me up at night would be the only thing that put his mind at ease.

     "Xavier," he asked coolly from the passenger seat, turning his head to look right at me. I wanted him to stop looking at me. I needed him to stop peering into me as if I had all the answers. The thing with lonely boys is that their hearts were made to be pools of infinite questions with no answers in sight. They were black holes, made only for swallowing up emotions and creating this void where no light could escape. "Are you alright?"

     If I didn't want to keel over and scream into nothingness, I might have told him that this question had been seven. But I wasn't about to do that; mostly because I felt so numb to everything right now.

     "Yeah," I replied, my own voice husky and shaking. The darkness of the night only helped to conceal my face. Not that there was any point in that. Garth, even in the dark it seemed, could sniff out sadness a mile off. Maybe his propensity to do so rested in part to him always looking like he was about to leap into oblivion. "I'm fine."

     He was the kind of person that wore his sadness on his insides. The type of person who would rather let it rot him to the core, than show anyone true colors. There was no denying that he was a fortress that would bow to no man.

     Which just made the exact thought of him all the more captivating.

     My entire body weight collapsed into the seat. Bones felt like they could just float away if I gave them enough space. Despite the fact that my head was spinning with thoughts, it had never felt more comfortable. Eyes shut, I drew in a sharp breath, hoping that it would be enough to organize my head.

     It wasn't. Not even close.

     When my eyes opened against the darkness of the car, my lungs were no lighter than they had been a moment ago. But I knew what this meant. I had to press forward. People had told me that the best way to get over something was talking about it.

     My dad had tried for so long to ignore her. All I wanted to do was talk about her, who she was. Was that so wrong?

     "My mom," I started, voice breaking around the edges. "My mom is... was my best friend." My eyes could already feel a salty sting. I could barely see a thing through these underwater eyes. Blinks were what created tracks down my face. Remaining stoic, I continued. "I know a lot of kids would hate to be seen as mama's boys, but my mom was one of the greats. She wasn't scared of a damn thing."

     The sound of leather told me Garth had turned to face forward. I'd need to thank him for allowing me this private moment later. But probably not before I punched him in the gut for getting this out of me.

     "She was something I think everyone should aspire to be."

     Garth remained quiet in his seat for a moment.

     "Do you miss her?"

     Four simple words. A question I had never been asked. My family were too stubborn to acknowledge that she was even hear in the first place. Sabrina had been more focused on giving me space, and not pushing me away. A bit ironic considering it was now me that was pushing her away with every day that passed.

     My face turned to Garths' in the silence, resting on his narrower than life features which even now stood out like a peacock in a black-and-white movie. The look on his face was contemplative, full to the brim with things he wished to know but would never have asked.

     "All the time Garth," I responded in kind. "The reason why I always look so sad is because I've lost the reason to be happy. I've lost the only thing in life that made me feel like I was complete."

     I sighed heavily. "And now things are different. My thoughts are heavy, and my actions are always laced with this underlying issue of 'he's-just-grieving.'" I said this last part with air quotes, something that made Garth smile, and flare his nostrils in a half laughter. "She was a star, and now that she's gone, she's a black-hole. Eating me alive, and just making me feel like this shell of a person."

     "Fuck," Garth said finally after a few moments of the most agonizing silence.

     "Yeah."

     It was only then that I realized how bad it had gotten; how my face was slick with track marks of tears gone by. My throat felt super-dry, almost like sandpaper. Bringing my hands to my face, I began my feeble attempt to wipe away at any of the residual sadness which had been left behind.

     There was a moment of electricity where I felt something else. Not my hands touching my face, but the hands of someone more gentle. His fingers rested just under my chin for a moment, before he turned my head to face his own.

     His eyes were deep pools all on their own, but they didn't betray him as much as my own eyes did.

     "It's okay," Garth said softly. "It's okay not to be okay, alright?"

     I sniffed and nodded once.

     And that's when he did it; that's when Garth Vega brushed his lips up against mine.