Tell Me a Story | ✓

Far, Far Away: Part 4

4. Boy

"What are you running away from?"

He looks up from his hands that he has spread out on the table, meeting her soft brown eyes. Those innocent eyes have suffered too much, he thinks. Those eyes have witnessed too much. A sigh escapes him and he leans his head back on the booth, closing his eyes and trying to erase the memory of the laughs directed toward him and the words written in permanent marker on his old dorm room's door. "Why do you think I'm running from something?"

"Well... it seems like you kind of know what I'm going through. You seem... I don't know." Her voice has dropped down to a pitiful, ashamed whisper. "Sorry."

He picks his head up and immediately reaches across the table between them and takes her hand in his. It feels so fragile in his. A shiver courses up his spine at the thought of what all she's gone through; at the thought of what she's running away from. "No, you're right. Don't apologize." Her eyes meet his and she gives him a sad smile that forms a lump in his throat. "Kids...." he starts, but doesn't finish. He didn't think he'd have to tell this story - he sure as hell isn't going back home. His father would be ashamed that he'd run away.

The girl squeezes his hand and his heart hiccups, her offering him an encouraging smile. "Come on, please?"

He stares at her, and after several hesitations, he continues. "Kids at my school made fun of me. About the way I dress," What are you, secretly a girl?, "the way I talk," What the hell does that even mean? Me no hablo geek, "the things I do," Do you do anything besides read? You're such a hermit crab. Live, dude!, "and the people I hang out with." Do you have any friends? What a shit loner you are.

When she squeezes his hand again, he realizes that his hand is shaking. He smiles at her, but it's forced. Inside, his heart is breaking and the lump is forming in his throat again and he's getting lost in his thoughts. His terrible, awful, horrid, screaming thoughts that hurt his head. The faces of those who use to tease him daily flash in his mind and he winces, holding her hand tighter with every person. No, no, no, not again.

"Hey," she coos, taking his other hand in hers. "Get out of that mind of yours and come back to me, alright? No more of that. No more of them. They're way back in your past and they're not coming after you. Forget about those idiots."

He looks at her - really looks at her - until he believes her. There's something in her expression - something in her eyes - that makes her seem completely honest and vulnerable that makes him weak inside and believe in every word she says. If she had told him that unicorns were real, he would nod his head and agree. This isn't another person who will look at him with judgmental, laughing eyes and tease him about his glasses. She won't smile at him with eyes full of hate and drop his hands, or call him naive and a total waste of space.

This girl is real.

This girl likes him for who he is.

This girl has her own past she's trying to run away from, and he wants to be with her every step of the way. He can't even imagine parting ways with her when she decides they're finally "far, far away". He can't imagine saying goodbye to this beautiful, vulnerable, scared, strong, real girl who he's just met an hour ago.

"Hey." His voice wavers, but he has every ounce of her attention. "Do you want to go far, far away with me?"

He knows he practically just handed her his heart, but for some reason he doesn't care. He has this courage that has been taken away from him these past two years, and in this moment - this measly hour he's spent with this girl - he's gained it back. And it doesn't even matter anymore, because

She smiles.

THE END.