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twenty two :: my all

twenty two :: my all

“Okay, were here” Henry announced.

         I felt the car came to a stop and I looked up to see the view of my own house. Henry had parked behind my dad’s car. My dad’s Ford car looked slightly cheap compare to Henry’s Jaguar. I smiled to myself, knowing that if I told my dad just what I was thinking I knew he would start me off with one of his lectures that he seemed to call “affordable car lesson” and I didn’t want to bore myself to death; listening to him while he tell me with in-depth details.

          My red hair had been all over my face, and since I was smart enough not to bring any hair-tie with me today (thinking that I didn’t need it), I had managed to get my hair in a tangle and dishevelled on the way home. There was an awkward silence stretching between me and Henry. I wasn’t sure whether to start talking and fill in the silence in, or stay quite. Perhaps, my boyfriend liked his own peace and quite so I decided to keep my mouth shut.

           But the silence seemed to be dragging on forever.

         And I wasn’t quite comfortable in my position since I was halfway facing Henry and on the edge of my seat. And it seemed like there was something bothering Henry. My curiosity won out.

            “Henry, what’s wrong?” I asked, staring at him.

       He sighed, a set of emotions flaring on his face. I didn’t know whether to feel panic or what. I knew there was something bugging my boyfriend and I was itching to ask him what he was truly thinking. But then again, there was a little voice deep inside me that was saying that it might had to do with me. His problem I meant. Did he think I was boring and break-up with me? After all, hadn’t he said he liked me back? Fear and guilt was gnawing inside me, and suddenly the thought of my mother and him talking came to the surface of my mind. What had my mother said to him? My mother wasn’t famous for the touchy-feeling after all. It could be anything, goodness—it could be even be a warning or a threat. Of what? Why would even my mother threaten Henry or even warn him? Did she found out about that little rebellious act I did? That I went to Henry’s party when it was meant to be an all girls’ party that kind of thing?

          I bit my lip and I stared at Henry’s face sideways. Just as I opened my mouth, he turned around and faced me. It felt like we were having a confrontation time. But we were-ish right?

          “What’s wrong?” I repeated.

He looked me dead in the eyes and I was taken aback by the intensity that was in his irises.

          “Do you remember when you went all claustrophobic on me?” he started and I nodded. To my complete and utter humiliation, I still did remember that. That embarrassing moment when he was about to kiss me and I had gone all claustrophobic on him.

          “Well, I know you’re probably dying to know how I knew the symptoms” Henry teased, his voice amused. Screw him!

          “Y-yeah?” I stuttered.

           And blushed a thousand shades of beetroot.

           “Do you remember my sister Candy?” he continued and I nodded once again. “Well, she’s claustrophobic too”

           Yes, I did remember Candy Phillips. The fifteen year old girl whom had been practically starving with attention from another girl around her age. I had always admired the kid, and I hadn’t even realized she was claustrophobic too.

           Henry’s confession had definitely helped since I didn’t have to lie awake in my room, thinking how had he’d known such a thing. But now everything was crystal clear. His sister was also claustrophobic and I didn't know what to say at the least.