Denial's Not Just a Feeling

Theoretically Speaking of Happiness

She rolled her eyes before jumping onto the kitchen counter and leaning back, hitting her head on the cabinet hanging above her head. She closed her eyes groaning. Slowly taking her head off of the cabinet she placed her hand to the back of her head, feeling a huge bump start to form. She groaned again, taking her hand away from the bump, placing it on the edge of the counter and opening her eyes to stare at the fidgeting young man in front of her.

                He twiddled his thumbs in circles in front of his chest. He didn’t even bother to move his hair out of his eyes when it shagged over them. He nipped at his bottom lip every once in the bluest of moons, something that annoyed her.

                “Will you stop biting your lip?” She glared at him.             

                He looked up from staring at his twiddling thumbs, turning a deep red. He released his teeth’s grip on his bottom lip and pursed his lips into a straight line. His thumbs froze too, though starting to twitch. He stared at her, shifting his weight between his feet more often than she liked to see.

                “Really?”

                His whole body froze as a mumbled a sorry.                              

                She softened her features and sighed. There was no point in being rude to him. He has always been there for her since she was a child. Even through all of her harshness, he still managed to form a bond with her that she thanked silently for, but she would never tell him that.

                “Cal—“

                “I know.” He sighed, making his way closer to the counter she was sitting on looking worried. He stood beside her, placing one hand on the counter space beside her leg.

                “There’s still email and phones—”

                “I know.”

                “—and then once we graduate we’re gone.”

                He nodded, annoying her with his worrisome persona. He traced patterns on the counter space beside her leg. He looked at everything but her, until he looked up to stare in her eyes. She stared back, her face softening more.

                It was hard. Neither of them denied that. None of them could. All of them looked forward to graduating high school, but a lot of them were fearful because once out, they would have nothing. He knew that. She knew that. They all knew that. But life had a strange way of making them suffer more than most children, no wonder she was hard. She had to be if she were to survive and she did, even before graduating from high school.

                “When do they come?”

                She broke their gaze to glance at the clock above the doorway. 12:30. “Ten minutes.”

                He nodded, still staring at her. She looked back down at him.

                He had flicked his shaggy hair out of his eyes, allowing her to notice more clearly his right eye becoming almost swollen shut. As he blinked, the eyelid of his right eye would hardly move. She didn’t know if he could see anything from that eye, probably not. Having them too many times before made her accustomed to how painful and annoying they were. Most of them grew out their hair to cover their eyes and necks, the two of them included. It was so no one would notice how badly bruised their faces were or the scars and handprints on their necks.