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 Posted: Thu Aug 01, 2013 3:00 pm
The cab of the truck with the three of them, hip to hip, elbow to elbow, felt small, and even with the windows down, it felt hot. When Charlie leaned forward to increase the volume of the radio, Patrick felt their arms make contact and their body heat intertwine, but then Charlie was leaning back against the seat, pushing his head and shoulders out the rear window, and sliding the rest of himself out to sit in the bed of the truck. Patrick and Sam exchanged satisfied looks before Sam leaned out herself.
Patrick took the opportunity to give them their moment and think of something that had been pressing his mind all night: Brad. The moment he had seen Brad at King’s Diner had been a fleeting but heart wrenching moment, and one that neither Sam nor Charlie had noticed. He hadn’t seen Brad in two months and also hadn’t been prepared for all of the memories that came flooding back to him; something was replicated as he watched Sam and Charlie exchange a kiss in the rearview mirror. Granted, they weren’t like most of Brad’s kisses- sloppy, intense- but just the sight was enough to conjure up the same feeling felt earlier in the diner.
It had been months since the fight between Patrick and Brad in the school cafeteria, which had also been the defining moment of their breakup, and though he was still royally pissed at Brad for what he had done, just the sight of him had caused Patrick’s pulse to thrum in his veins and pound in his ears. He had been physically and emotionally hurt over what happened, but he couldn’t, no matter how much he wished he could, easily forget about Brad. They had had a final blowout, but no closure, and Patrick still felt bonded to him. He wanted to sever that connection, but the stolen moments that they had been able to catch here and there over the year that they’d been together were too hard to cast aside. They had been precious and meaningful, and to forget about them was like forgetting a part of himself.
Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older I'm getting older too
Yes I'm getting older too
Patrick looked back into the rearview mirror and saw Charlie, arms spread out, looking, for once in the time that Patrick had known him, free. Isn’t that what the tunnel song is about? Feeling free of the things you were once afraid to change? As if she could read his thoughts, Sam suddenly let out a “whoo” into the tunnel in reply. Patrick decided then and there that that’s exactly what he was going to do. As a signal of this, he let out a hearty “whoo” and with his echo, out went the feelings for Brad.
The responsibilities that had been weighing him down for over a year, helping Brad through those first seven months, keeping him sober, continuing to love him and forgive him even when he was forced to forget that there was ever a “them” come Monday morning, were lifted off his shoulders and for the first time in a very long time Patrick felt as though he could breathe easier, stand taller, and see a future that didn’t require him to pretend.
Patrick was done with pretending.
Any feedback would be awesome. 4laugh
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Posted: Thu Aug 01, 2013 3:01 pm
It was 3:24 on a Wednesday morning, and though Patrick had two classes, one at eight and the other later in the afternoon, he was currently sitting at the Ye Old College Diner picking at a Grilled Stickey, tired but unable to sleep, and pondering over everything and nothing. Chin in hand, he looked out the window to the parking lot, seeing nothing more than the street lamps would allow. He had been sitting at the same booth for over an hour, closer to two, but time had come to stop meaning anything to Patrick. Time was just one of man’s inventions that chained him to the now and refused to allow him to move in any direction; Patrick refused to be chained.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Snapping out of his reverie, Patrick looked up and smiled when he saw his sister Sam staring at him with her hands in a gray hoodie that she had swiped from Charlie. Sliding in the seat across from him, she mirrored Patrick’s earlier pose, chin in hand, and continued to gaze at him, but not saying anything, refusing to, until Patrick did.
“And why, may I ask, are you up at this time of morning?” Patrick narrowed his eyes playfully, cocked his head in a haughty angle, and sat waiting. He had given Sam what she had wanted by saying something first, and now it was her turn.
Sam laughed softly, barely more than a whisper. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, waving a hand dismissively in the air. “I got a craving for Grilled Stickey’s, came here, and who do I find but you sitting in a corner booth, looking all forlorn and sad-eyed.” She placed her hand over her chest, directly over her heart. “It hurt me, right here, to see you looking like that.”
Patrick rolled his eyes and pushed the plate of Grilled Stickey’s he wasn’t going to eat towards his sister. She thanked him by offering not only one, but two thumbs up as she stuffed her face. He plucked the single earphone that had been glued in his ear all night and looked at Sam. She seemed . . . happy. Patrick instantly felt jealous and, though he’d never take that away from his sister, it just made him realize how alone he really felt. He shook his head, hoping to shake the thoughts with it.
“What are YOU doing here?” She asked, her mouth full of the gooey, room-temperature mess. Patrick didn’t answer right away. Instead, he grabbed napkins one by one for Sam’s messy face. She could tell that he was stalling, however, and lowered her eyes at him.
“I just couldn’t sleep. No big deal. Really. But, I’m kinda tired now. I have class in a few hours so,” before he even finished his sentence he was up and out of the booth, pulling on his jacket to leave, “I will talk to you later.” He threw a couple of dollars on the table, kissed his sister on the top of the head and walked out of the diner.
The brisk December air stung his cheeks, but he felt like he could breathe for the first time tonight. The loneliness was getting to him, and he didn’t know how much longer it would be before he would be driven crazy because of it. It had been roughly ten months since he and Brad had broken up, and though Patrick wasn’t one to jump from relationship to relationship, that break was almost long enough to drive even Mother Teresa crazy.
The walk from the diner to Patrick’s dorm wasn’t annoyingly far, and Patrick was thankful for the peace and quiet. Nothing but the stars and the dark- it was even too cold for the animals to be outside. He would be completely beside himself, in his own litt-
“OW!” A brute force had clipped Patrick’s shoulder. He swiveled around on one foot to see an embarrassed looking boy. Though it was cold, he had sweat covering his face and pooling against his shirt. It must have been one of the track team members, or a football player conditioning for practice. Patrick gripped at his shoulder, wincing.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.” The assailant took a step towards him, his hands out, not really knowing what to do. “I didn’t mean to. I was just, uh, jogging and I uh, I didn’t see you, I had my headphones in and I was in the zone and I, well, like I said I didn’t see you and I’m really sorry man, and I uh, jeez . . .” The boy was rambling now, and Patrick couldn’t help but crack a smile. The jogger took another step closer and yanked down his hood and through the dim light of the street lamp, Patrick could make out a rather cute boy. His rambling is kind of cute, too.
“Hey, listen, it’s okay. I wasn’t exactly paying attention either. My name is Patrick,” he breathed, a white fog escaping his lips and into the dark as he spoke, and extended his hand. The jogger took his hand in his, shaking it. Although it was cold out, Patrick was surprised to find that the boy’s skin was warm against his own.
“My name is Addison,” the blonde boy smiled and blushed when the handshake took a little too long. He was the first to pull away. Addison’s hand flew to the back of his head, tousling his own hair.
Patrick’s lips twitched into a small smile. The cold finally getting to him, he stuffed his hands inside his pockets, closing his elbows tightly in at his side, and hunched his shoulders. “What are you doing out here?”
Addison, still breathing hard, grinned. “I’m conditioning. I’m on the track team. Penn State,” he added.
Slowly, Patrick raised an eyebrow. “At nearly four in the morning?”
“Well,” Addison shrugged a shoulder and looked down at the ground sheepishly for a moment. “Couldn’t sleep. There’s no better way to fall asleep than to just run so hard and so fast and for so long that you just feel like dropping and your brain has to let you.” At this deceleration, his eyes shined. Patrick couldn’t tell what color they were with the dim lighting, but he knew that they were big and nice and friendly.
“Or you can just do what many good Americans do.”
“What’s that?”
“Eat yourself into a stupor . . . if you’re lucky, you’ll eat yourself into a stupor with Grilled Stickley’s, and if you happen to die for biting into one of those things is liking eating a piece of heaven, then you will die a happy man.”
Addison threw back his head and laughed. It was loud and warm, coming straight from his stomach. It made Patrick grin widely.
“There is always that, I guess.”
They stood there for a few moments, both breathing in and out of their mouths, the white wisps of their breath showing, not really knowing what to say.
Patrick took a couple of steps back, universal body language kicking in. “Well,” he said, sticking his hand out one more time for Addison to shake. “It was nice of you running into me, I guess. Maybe one day I can return the favor”
Addison smiled, and this time Patrick noted the small little dimples that deepened his cheeks. “I’ll be looking forward to it. Good night.”
“Good night.”
They let their hands drop as they turned away. Patrick began walking once more, waiting to hear Addison’s footsteps fall heavily as he continued to run in the opposite direction, but he didn’t. He had walked about fifteen feet before he finally could take it no longer, and he turned around.
He was still standing there, looking at him, his arms hanging loosely by his side, smiling faintly. When he realized that Patrick was watching him, his smile grew wider until his lips stretched over his white teeth and turned the smile into a grin, he threw up at hand and began to wave at him.
Patrick returned the gesture and couldn’t help but laugh as he called out, “I’ll see you around, Addison.” Then, without waiting for Addison to say anything in return, he turned back around and continued toward his dorm.
Next part. 4laugh
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