Forgetting and Missing

"Hey, what'd you get on your World Religions paper?" Colonel asks me, not looking at me from where he's seated on the couch, playing a video game. The hollow sound of virtual gun fire undertones his question.

"A minus. You?" I lift my head slightly from where it's buried in the pillow. I see the sweaty imprint of where it had been. I feel the dampness of my skin stick to the mattress beneath me. My bare chest doesn't fare well in the hot summer approaching. My shorts are sticking to my legs uncomfortably and I pull them away feebly.

"B. I swear the Old Man doesn't like me."

"He doesn't. What did you write?" I turn onto my back, staring up at the bottom of his vacant bunk.

"I don't even remember. Just something to get it done. What'd you write about?"

"About how she forgives me. And how I forgive her. The only way out of the labyrinth is to forgive."
"Why can't you just forget about her? She's dead." Now he pauses his game, standing to come hover by my side.

"I will. Eventually." I peer at him under my arm. His hair had grown shaggier. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing his bare chest. Today was our last day at Culver Creek, before we each leave for summer. Him, to his mom. Me, to Florida with my unknowing parents and nonexistent friends they think I have. My things are already packed. Except for the book tucked under my pillow. I feel its burning presence on the back of my head.

"Do you want a smoke?" He asks, already reaching for a pack on his bunk, hidden under his own pillow. His shirt tugs up as he leans over me, trying to make the best of his shirt stature.

"I don't feel like going out," I mumble, shielding my eyes.

"No problem. Follow me to our humble latrine." He's already walking off to the bathroom. I drag myself up and follow, walking in just as he turns the shower on and as hot as it'll go. We shut the door and jam a towel at the bottom. I lean against it, back sticking to the thickly painted wood, as the Colonel pulls out two cigarettes. One is passed to me and I pull a lighter out of my pocket. I light mine before his. Although the steam helps mask the smoke, it doesn't help with the humid weather. Sweat appears on my skin, as well as the Colonel's. the fat droplets roll down out chests and arms as we bask in the silence and die in the heat. His hair starts to curl around his head, making him look a little odd. Younger, more childish when paired with his shortness. I inhale deeply, glad that I agreed to take the smoke. I make my way through my cigarette and light another, needing the distraction.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" The Colonel watches me curiously.

"I honestly don't care. It's my last day." I take another puff to exaggerate my point. He finishes his first but doesn't go for another. Just sits on the toilet seat, watching me. I finish my second and stop, knowing I'll be in huge problem if the Hawk decided to pay a surprise visit. Which with our luck, will be right about now.

Just as I step forward to shut off the shower, the Colonel stands, and our chests press together. We freeze, my hand outstretched and getting drenched with water. His hands, on my sides to steady himself. I look down at him, suddenly hating my height on him. It feels like a parent to his son. He looks up at me at the same time. Barely six inches separate us.

"Uh, sorry," I say, attempting to step away but his hands tighten.

"It's alright, Miles," he says earnestly. I find it odd that he's using my actual name instead of the nickname he gave me.

"You alright, Colonel?" I look at him curiously.

"Call me Chip," he murmurs before standing on his tiptoes. His lips meet mine tentatively, but grow surer as the moment passes. I move my hand out of the water, grabbing onto his shoulder. I answer his lips with my own, not sure what I'm doing at all. For a brief moment my brain processes the fact that this is the Colonel, but I quickly dismiss it. I relax into him. His hands tighten on me again, and my balance leaves me. I stumble back into the door and he follows me, falling flush against me. I run my hands through his hair, feeling its softness in my hands is exhilarating. I sigh into him, letting the world and all its problems disappear from me. I forget about Alaska, school, and going home. All that's on my mind is the feel of the Colonel under my hands. I hope the same is happening to him. I hope he's letting himself forget with me.

After what seems like forever we break apart breathless.

"I'm going to miss you, Miles," he says, running a hand through my hair, his eyes looking sad.

"I'm going to miss you, Chip," I reply, leaning down to meet his lips with mine.