Redemption

A SPACE THAT'S ALL MY OWN

We watched the stars disappear and the sky change colors. What once looked clear was now covered in clouds. The light grays were turning dark. As they rolled over above us, lightning lit their edges, showing us just how much of the sky they really covered. From our spots on the bench, we watched the storm brew, and just when droplets began staining the bench, the brown-eyed boy nodded toward the truck.

His disappointment didn't go unnoticed. I don't think mine did either. It's not like we talked much about anything or talked at all. We struck up conversation like lightning appeared in the sky. It didn't happen often but when it did it felt electric. It lit everything up. It made you want to stay, but it made you want to run, and the more time I spent with Carter, I wasn't sure which one I needed to do.

He made it clear he wasn't in it for the food but the time he wanted to spend with me. The tattooed boy ran out of reasons not to go back home. Even if I'd say tonight didn't have to end, we'd eventually part our separate ways. He'd go back to his bedroom, and I'd pretend this wasn't the best time of my life. It'd been cruel of me to think that, but I knew how this would end. He'd go off to live his dreams of becoming a professional football player and I'd still be questioning what I wanted to do with myself. He didn't need indecisive. He didn't need me.

So, I followed him back to his truck and tried to mask my own displeasure. All of this makes me question what happens when we get back to the house. While he's counting down the hours until we see each other again, I'm wondering what everyone else will think of this.

"I know we're going back to the same place, but it doesn't really feel that way," he spoke aloud. "It's weird, but I have a thing for wanting to be around you, Sawyer Price."

"You're not bad company yourself, Carter James."

He snorted. "I'm surprised you've stuck around this long."

"It's not like I've had many chances to run."

I watched those pretty brown eyes of his roll. "Funny."

"If I wasn't wrong, I'd say we're best friends, at this point."

"What if you weren't wrong?"

"Then I guess it stands – we're best friends."

His head rolled to the side to look at me. "The best."

Our happiness died upon arrival, but not because something happened, but because the house was full of people. People that obviously weren't here when we left earlier, and as I look at the boy beside me, he's probably wondering the same things I am.

It didn't take long before entering to realize the party made its way back to the house. Some players from the football team were sprawled on the couch with beer in their hands, laughing at the TV.

"Oh, shit! You guys finally decided to come back?"

Fletcher approached me with a cup in his hands. A hazy look settled on his face like he'd been drinking all night. I know he isn't my dad, but I can't stop my fingers from trembling as he focused his gaze on me and Carter.

"Where've you been?"

"Getting food."

Carter's response was short. Almost like he's uninterested or annoyed with the situation. I'm not sure why. His teammates made it clear he liked going out when they mentioned he's the life of the party. So, I cocked my head to the side at the boy beside me as his jaw clenched.

"That's a long time to be gone for food. We left the stadium at ten – you realize it's way past midnight, right?"

The man beside me turned to his teammate. "Shut the fuck up, McNamara."

"Loosen up, dude! Grab yourself a drink. Settle down. We just beat Penn State for the first time in eight years!"

"Yeah, come on," Fletcher tapped his back. "You need to have more fun."

Carter didn't think twice as his quarterback passed him a red solo cup. With the same look etched into his features, he brought the drink to his lips. I didn't stick around to watch his friends cheer him on. I let the crowd of everyone's friends fill the living room before I disappeared.

The house smelled like a variety of alcohol, but I could smell the kind dad drank. Whiskey. Not off-brand, though. Jim Bean's Green Apple. It's enough to make me disappear into the room where I can actually lock the door. A room that's mine. Something I've never had before, and I'll never take for granted. A space that's all my own.

"Sawyer!"

I looked back down the stairwell to find Tory staring at me with misunderstanding laced in his features. He looked different outside of his uniform. At the end of the stairs, with no lighting whatsoever, his blue eyes seemed to be a little brighter. The blonde curls on his head a little more evident.

"Where ya going?"

I pulled the sleeves of Carter's hoodies over my fingers, to hide my hands. "I'm not one for parties."

"You okay?"

I gave him a small smile. "Yeah, Tory. I'm okay."

"I don't have a chance, do I?"

My head cocked to the side, wondering what he meant.

"You like Carter," his smile didn't seem as bright anymore.

My fingers tightened around the material balled against my closed fists. I wasn't sure what to say. I wasn't sure I could say anything if I wanted to. It's not something I really have the answer to. It's like he's not wrong, but I'm still figuring out what all of this means.

"Don't be afraid," he spoke softly. "Carter's a good guy. He doesn't always know the answer, but he's always determined to figure it out. He's got a habit of putting people before himself, but I've never met somebody with a bigger heart."

"Thank you."

"If you ever need a friend, you know where to find me."

I watched him walk away but not before wishing him a good night. As soon as I collapsed on the mattress covered in fluffy blankets, I reflected on the night. I'm not upset with how it ended. So many things happened. I don't think I'll ever make sense of any of it, but my eyes start to droop, and when I dream, I dream of a tattooed football player with a thousand-watt smile that stops my heart and starts it all at once.