Tea For Two

15

Disclaimer: This is part of an original work of fiction. My original work of fiction, actually. Steal it, and I will come after you. Thanks. Enjoy

~~~

It doesn't really bother me how good I'm getting at hiding from my life. I know that it should, but it doesn't.

I didn't come here immediately- I have no idea exactly where I am headed to begin with. I considered the movie theater roof at first, but I'm in no mood for it. I really just don't feel like staring at the grave yard or the church, to be blunt with myself. Even lying flat on my back, not allowing myself to be reminded of all of the lives going on happily around me, staring at the blank, barely cloudy sky isn't good enough.

No.

After that, I think that maybe, I should go to my dad's auction house. Sitting in between all of the old wares usually comforts me; if it's distinct enough, I can close my eyes and imagine I'm in a good movie. Clocks and tea sets become Alice in Wonderland; chess sets are Looking for Bobby Fisher. But last night's big auction cleared out all of the good stuff, the old stuff, and so I decide against it.

Not there.

I also think that the baseball diamond could work, but it's really not for me; it's Emily's place.

Not there either.

So, in the end, I am left with truly the most illogical place to hide from her: her own closet. The irony is not lost on me that I'm closeted with my sexuality, and that I'm going to hide from my girlfriend, the world, and my thoughts in a closet.

It takes a while, but tucked away in the horse apple bush against the side of my house, I watch, waiting for her to set out looking for me. After a half an hour, she does.

At one time, all of the houses in this strip of the neighborhood were cookie-cutter versions of each other. That was in the 50s, as some of the older residents of the town will tell you if you sit still long enough to hear. But now, every house has changed in some way, whether big or small. Remodeling work has been done, walls have been knocked down, siding has been stripped and replaced with brick. But one thing has remained the same- the windows. The general philosophy with windows around here is that if you can see through them, you don't need new ones.

Because her house's windows are just like mine, I'm very familiar with them. As I jimmy her bedroom window open from the outside, I smile to myself, remembering my main lie in telling her about my love for her closet. I've never had a key for the house next door- I'm just really good at getting in unseen.

After I climb in her first story window, I close it quietly behind myself and go quickly to sit on the floor of her closet. I barely breathe or make a sound, I'm so afraid that her mom might be home, and I just didn't know. I only let myself sigh when the door is shut securely behind me, and the light is turned off.

I sit there for the next hour and a half, still in the sports bra and shorts Emily outfitted me in this morning, staring at the stars on the ceiling. My back is up against the back wall, my knees bent with my elbows on them, my hands propping up my head. Even though it's been ages- eight years, I think- since Carson, the boy who put the stars there with me has left, when I close my eyes, I can almost feel him sitting next to me. But when I close my eyes again, all I can feel is Emily- standing nose to nose with me, her arms around my neck, kissing me...

I inhale, exhale, and pretend I'm just a young alien child again, hiding from a loud and angry world I just don't fit in or understand. Another inhale, and an exhale, and I try to ignore the fact that I'm still young, still strange, and still in a place that I can't understand because it won't understand me. With an inhale, and another exhale, I accept again that this is my life- resistance is futile.