The Cascading Waves of Caden Lee

31

How is he okay. Like seriously.

"no i meant like into a pool..just casually mentions i fell off a roof LMAO"

Okay, that makes more sense. "guessing u still somehow got hurt?? imagine belly flopping when u hit the water."

"I don't have to imagine."

I spend the rest of the night laughing; texting him. It's nice.

_._._._._._._

Turns out that I do end up being the designated driver. I don't mind, I offered it up for a reason.

I had picked Caden up from his house. His lawn is slightly overgrown and his fence creaks when you open it. But it looks lived in; more than I could ever say about mine.

His dark brown hair was windswept, greenish-brown eyes glinting in the rays of the warm-toned sunset that was reflecting off the dashboard; eyes squinted. Royal blue converse thump the car floor to the beat of the music.

He had worn those same shoes the first time he came over.

"It's starting to really feel like spring," Is the first thing he says once we step outside of the car. "feels nice."

"Spring, as in, fifty degrees."

He laughs a little; white teeth flashing, "Shut up," we're parked curbside of a large brown home. There's dozens of cars littered throughout the streets—the line follows to the next block.

"But you know what I mean, like, that grass is green, green. It was brown slush a month ago."

"Green green?" I ask, following Caden to the home's entryway. The door is mahogany oak, and the design of artificial spidery cracks is carved into the stone of the patio's concrete walls.

"The greenest version of grass there is," his head swivels backwards to check that im still following him, and his steps halt as we come face-to-face with the doors sturdy oak.

He knocks once, twice, three times before the door whirls open to reveal a porcelain-skinned girl, her hair a pale blonde and her eyes a pale brown.

"Come in, come in," words slightly slurred, she ushers us inside the doorway with stumbling backwards steps. The air is tinged with the prominent stench of weed, it's skunk-like smell polluting the house. The floor is hardwood, but I can already see a few spills staining the floor. Solo cups lay abandoned and empty on every surface.

Despite what I originally thought, Caden does not go to immediately greet his friends, but instead slips his fingers around my wrist and lightly drags me along towards the kitchen. I have to repeatedly mentally scream at myself to breathe.

"Okay, so..." We push ourselves through the various groups of people crowded in the kitchen, his grip tightens when we squeeze through the gaps of the crowd. "There's vodka, there's wine coolers...uhm, beer, gin, tequila...I think that's it." He says, sifting through the bottles sitting on the kitchen's marble island.

Im still standing behind him, curled into myself as much as possible to seem smaller. This is making me claustrophobic. "What wine coolers are they?"