All Rubber Duckies Go To Heaven

Chapter Eight

I walked into Aerin’s room a half hour after I’d made sure my eyes were clear. I had his jacket on over my camisole to cover the bruises on my arms. Besides, I was cold.

The door flung open right before I got the chance to knock, so my hand came down on air, almost hitting Aerin.

“Come on in,” he greeted warmly, stepping away so I could get in. He was already in his pajamas, black pants with a black Blink 182 dripping logo hoodie. I smiled weakly as I walked past him.

His room was dark; Band posters completely covered his walls and ceiling. His carpet was thick and black. The room wasn’t altogether large due to how he pieced together his furniture. I think he had it this way to emphasize closeness. His bed was huge and four post, the wood stained a sleek black. To the left was a bookshelf half filled with novels and half cds or DVDs.

On the left wall was a black desk with a flat screen monitor and a shiny new modem. Leaning against the modem was a black laptop case. On the wall opposite his bed was a coal colored dresser with a flat screen on it. Hooked up to the television was a blue ray player, a Wii, and a PS3. Unhooked was the Play Station Two.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.

“Hold on for a second,” he told me before he disappeared into a door on the side of his room. I assumed this was his closet.

While I waited I plopped down on the edge of his bed and stuck my heels on the wood before I slid all the way onto my back.

His ceiling inclined down near the top two posts of his bed and I could see patches of white between the posters. After blindly staring at the posters for a while I noticed they weren’t all of bands. Some were sheets of paper he’d drawn on. At least, that's what I assumed.

It wasn’t like he’d randomly doodled them either. He had taken the time to structure each sketch, perfecting it down to the shading and marking the date in each bottom corner. They were beautiful.

I think the one that caught my eye was one directly in my line of vision. It was black and white in the background but the focus was shaded in dull colors. The vase was soft and peach colored, its shape the simple curves of a stereotypical vase. He implied transparency by showing the dark green stem where is sat at the bottom of the urn.

The thin body of the rose angled up to the lip of the vase then continued on for a few more inches before its color drained and you could see the break. The stem top hung loosely with the flower itself. The dead part of the rose matched the background with its black and white hue, but I caught the slightest hint of color. Not dead, but dying.

I heard Aerin come back into the room, but I paid him no attention. That is, until he came up and poked my stomach. Then I smacked him on the arm in my motion to curl up in a ball. He simply snickered and lay down beside me.

“Jerk,” I accused toyingly.

“Bullying hurts,” he shot back, and I stuck my tongue out at him in a child-like manner.

“So what’re you looking at?” he asked, squirming to be a little more comfortable.

“Your ceiling.”

“Really? I’d have never known,” he said sarcastically.

“Did you draw those?” I ventured.

“Hm?”

I pointed to a random picture, one of a gray tom cat arching its back as it stretched.

“Oh. Yeah," he admitted.

“They’re really good.”

I could feel him shrug beside me. “I guess. So do you wanna see what I picked out?” he asked, sitting up.

“Sure.” I propped myself up on my elbows only to be hit in the face by soft purple cloth. Sighing, I pulled the shirt off my face and held it at arm’s length. The purple fabric was worn from use but the words were still intact as the faded from white to blue: Girls do what they want. Inside the ‘o’ of ‘do’ was branded “Maine”.

“Awesome band,” I commented. “But why do you have a girl’s shirt?” I eyed him with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s not a girl’s shirt,” he argued. “In fact, this is the guy’s size. It’s not fitted or anything.”

“Whatever.” I smiled. “So where are the pants?”

He handed me a pair of dark purple skinny jeans that were completely shredded on the top layer. Underneath they had a thin, spandex part. “Okay, these are definitely girl jeans.”

“Yeah... It’s not like I’ve worn them or anything!”

I folded them and set them on the shirt. “Where did you get them?”

His structure changed. It looked like I’d caught Aerin in his own secret. “Uh, it’s late. You should probably get to sleep.” He yawned. "Me too."

I checked his clock. It was a little past ten. “Right. Yeah.” I slid off the edge of the bed with the clothes hung over my arm. Aerin pulled me into a hug before I could respond. He kissed the top of my head. “Goodnight Jan.”

I was smiling and blushing as I left his room. “Goodnight Aerin.” The door shut softly behind me and I tip-toed to my room. It was too dark and late to check out the room. I just slid in, shutting the door behind myself and leaning against it with my back. I groaned and burried my head in my hands.

I hated having to deal with this.

My hand found its way to my iPod where it was tucked in Aerin’s pocket, finding that it had never been turned off or paused. The music still buzzed from the earphones, which I eagerly put it. I let the music overcome me.

”...Rescue me
From everything
I just wanna live
I wish I could breathe...”

I sighed and shut off my iPod. I had another year of being stuck at home. I could survive.

I hope.

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["Rescue Me"-Hawthorne Heights]