If It Were Me

The Unexpected

“What do you want Grant,” I deadpanned, arching a skeptical eyebrow. The said godly teen smirked before he wiped a drop of OJ from his nose.

“I’ve come to court you, m’lady,” he said sarcastically. Grant looked down and began to rub at a stain on his shirt. I sighed at his nonchalance and my blush at his “m‘lady”. I swear, he only did things because he liked to embarrass me.

Turning back around, I grabbed the sponge from the kitchen sink and began scrubbing down the fridge. Although I couldn’t physically see it, I could feel Grant’s stare on my back. The hairs on my neck stood on end, my skin tingled knowing he was behind me. After washing up, I looked down. Scum coated my shins and shirt.

“I can’t go to school like this,” I whined. Grant leaned his head into his hand, irritation gleamed in his eyes.

“You look fine.”

“I’m all sticky,” I snapped, pressing my forefinger to my shin. The handsome teen sighed and stood up from the dining table.

“When you’re done with your typical bullshit girl problems, meet me in the car,” he retorted coldly. I watched his back disappear and frowned at the harsh slam of the front door. What the hell was his problem? Anger crawled through my veins. After all that happened between us the day before, he was going to act like that? I scowled.

Whatever, fuck him too.

I stalked up the stairs again, grumbling on about “dicks” and “boys”. Once again refreshed and ready (with a super awesome Batman t-shirt), I went out the front door, securely locking it. I frowned at the sweltering weather. God it was so hot.

I froze.

What…?

Grant sat in the car alone.

Crying.

Emerald/peridot eyes stared off into the distance, so many emotions… not there. Gone. Vacant. Except for the tears. Actual tears brimmed Grant Sumner’s eyes as he sat in the driver’s seat; his hands gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles were bone white. His mouth was lifeless, flat against his narrow chin. He was stone; a sad interpretation of the Mona Lisa. Beautiful in his existence, but unreadable. I kept staring, unsure if I could do anything else.

It was one thing to comfort one of my girlfriends, but it was a whole different ball park to comfort a crying… man. His shamrock orbs flickered with pain before they fell onto me. We both froze, unsure of how to handle the situation.

Do we talk? 

No, we’re not friends… right?

I bit my lip, chewing roughly before I began to walk the short distance toward him. I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t see it; that’s worse than asking about it. I could try to talk to him about it, but he probably wouldn’t tell me anyway. My eyebrows knitted together, confusion written across my face.

What do I do?

Placing a hand on the handle, I opened up the passenger door. I looked up again and gasped. We made eye contact and although it was probably unintentional, desperation shone through Grant’s stare. It was as if he were drowning man and I was the life raft; the light house to guide the ship home. I swallowed and looked away, breaking the uneasy current that had connected us.

I slid into the passenger seat awkwardly as Grant suddenly became interested in the radio station.

“What do you want to listen to?” he asked. I would’ve believed his indifference if I hadn’t seen what I'd just seen. I turned my body towards him and stared long and hard. Small pink splotches covered his eyes, his nose blushed red. I cocked my head to the side, thinking.

Even though this was weird and uncomfortable and definitely not something we were prepared for, it didn’t matter. He was upset and as a decent human being, I had an obligation to help my fellow man. Even if he was a prick.

“Grant.” His fingers worked deviously over the radio knob.

“Grant.” Fiddle fiddle.

“Grant.” Realizing he wasn’t going to listen to me, I put my hand on top of his, forcing his movements to seize. The simple brush of our fingertips had my stomach tingling, but it was slower now. My eyes traced over his carefully controlled face, waiting for the smallest slip.

Nothing.

I frowned and took a breath. Now or never.

“Whatever it is-” I started.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The sharp bite of his tone left a sting in my chest, a slap to the face I hadn’t seen coming. I closed my mouth and nodded.

“I understand,” I whispered and the truth in these words shocked me. I did understand what he was feeling. When something hurt so much that if you merely spoke it it would break you. You hid it away in the darkest corner, in a box and hoped that the silence swallowed it up. I knew exactly how he felt right then.

Grant seemed to understand this too because he turned to me and it was as if he had finally seen me for the first time. He shyly looked away, licking his lips. Deciding he wasn’t going to say anything else, I sat upright in my seat. I dug around in my backpack for a moment before I dug out my headphones. As I untangled them, his words came out so fast and jumbled together I was sure I didn’t know what he said.

“What?” I questioned, tilting my head to the side in consternation. Grant frowned, but there was no sign of reluctance on his face at his next words.

“I said thank you,” Grant said quietly. I gave him a soft smile.

“You’re welcome.”