Sunday, February 12, 2012

Thirteen



She was nauseous.  Unsure if it was the eight hours spent driving in the summer heat without air conditioning or the impending visit eight years in the making.  Who was she kidding...it was the visit.
“If I had to chose someone on this planet to meet my father before...well, to meet him, it would be you,” he shared with her when they discussed her overnight stop.  
“OK.”
He watched a red, 2-door Sudan hesitantly roll down the street blatantly trying to read house numbers and stay on the pavement.  He met her in the driveway.  No expectations.  Increasingly nervous.  Why?
In all of this upheaval--she felt like home.
She checks herself out one last time in the rear-view mirror, accepts the disheveled look as reality and slips out of the driver’s seat.  Eight hours on the interstate with the windows down felt more like twelve and the shear desire to escape that car is the only thing propelling her forward now.  He wonders how, for days, he has been willing the hours to move faster--but in the last few, tries to lengthen every minute.
But there they were.  Adults.  Strangers.  His hesitance forces her to make the first move.
“Hey,” she broaches.
“Hey.”
“I made it,” she notes nonchalantly.
“Yup,”  he takes her in.
“Awkward. So fucking awkward.  He’s going to make me work for this,” she panics to herself.  “Hug him.”
Before he realizes what she’s doing, she’s maneuvered herself into his arms.  Not even close to comforting.  Not for either of them.  Quick release.
“Do you need to grab anything out of the car?” he asks.
“Uh, ya.”  She runs to her car, composes herself, and heads back up the driveway.
He is very grateful no one is home from work yet to witness this reunion.  It has to get better.
They make small talk.  She asks about his father, his other family, who she is going to meet.  He explains the new dynamics and how this living situation isn’t going to last much longer.  He just wanted to know his dad.  She understands nothing, but gets everything.  
As they talk, she gets flashes of their childhood--sitting on the paved stoop watching his three older sisters pile into their father’s car for the weekend leaving him behind.  Life was different now, but she sees the same boy in front of her as they wait for his father to come home for introductions.
His father eventually does.  Cordial greetings.  Skeptical inquiries about tonight’s sleeping arrangements.
They off-set the questions with an agreement to go out and get drinks.  Alcohol has to help.
It does.  Conversation is casual.  Long-time friends catching up through music and laughter.  They close down the bar and head back to his father’s house, knowing full-well this reunion tonight is short-lived.
Back in the driveway, he pulls her into his arms just as he had done countless times before tonight.  She melts the way she always did.  This moment should have been their, “hello”.  
She jokes to ease her own anxiety. “Don’t,” he replies, proving his strength by pulling her in closer.  One unit.  At first she doesn’t resist, but drunken antics set in and she spastically tries to wriggle her arms free from his.  He resists.  Their game continues as it always has.  
A game of cat and mouse from the driveway to the porch.  She’s quick, but he is always a step ahead in brute force.  He plays with her head.  He can see her wheels turning--she isn’t used to him flirting back.  She’s cautious.  
They’ve been here before many years ago.  Cat and mouse.  From the porch to the living room.  They give it a rest. Separate couches. Nothing has happened.  
She could be making the tension up in hear head as she thought she had always done.
Bantering continues.  She refuses to back down this time.  He’s going to let her think she’s won and allow her to bridge the gap.  She does.  Into his lap.  She hovers just long enough to force his lips into hers.  So easy.  
Cat and mouse.  From the living room to the bed room.  They catch sense in the most nonsensical situation. Almost twenty years of missed opportunities and conflicted emotions bottled into this one night together.  For the first time in their relationship, no games from either side.  
As the sun rises and sheds a new light on their friendship, he slips out of her arms to the awaiting couch downstairs.  The only time he has ever let go of her first.
In a few hours, she is back on the road towards home.  This time, driving far and fast away from him.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Twelve




“She’s on the bus?” he’s confused.  “What’s the occasion?”

She isn’t even positive this is her bus until she sees his face half-way back. 

“No ride today?”

“Nope.  No rehearsal either.”

He isn’t even sure how she gets back and forth to school anymore.  No one he knows has their license yet.

He catches a glimpse of the nervous red-head kid a few seats in from of him awkwardly sliding closer to the window and casually sliding his bag to the floor as she approaches them.  “Is this guy thinking she’ll sit with him?” Laughable.  She doesn’t even notice.

She drops everything in her arms into the empty seat available between the two.  “Yellow twinkie it is!  At least until I find someone to take me home.”  She kneels on the bench backwards and rests her head on the seat back.  “Whatcha been up to?”

“Nothing really.”

They continue this way for the 15 minutes it takes to get to their stop.  Same intersection they waited at day after day in elementary school.  She smiles at this thought. 

Bus stops.  They get off.  3 of them.  The nervous red-head kid gets off, too.  She glances at him awkwardly.

“Hi,” initiates the awkward red-head kid.

“Hi,” she responds.  “Sorry, I never realized you lived this close.”

“My house is between stops.  You guys were getting off, so I figured I might as well.”

“What the fuck?!” he thinks to himself.  “This guy never gets on or off here.”  He’s for sure walking her all the way home today.  He underestimated the red-head.

She knows why he’s walking her home and not cutting up his own street.  Jealous moron.

She passes up rides home for weeks just to see what happens. She isn’t at all interested in the red-head but hopes the jealousy will get him to try something for once.  Perhaps one of their static-charged hugs before he runs up the hill will evolve into something more interesting?

It doesn’t.  She’s humiliated. She takes someone up on their offer to ride her home.

He’s not sure where she went.