Summer Nights

2. Walking Home.

Silence. That’s what you hear. The only sound escaping is the flick of the rocks as you step and propel them forward. You pass the crossroad.

He stops. Why? You turn your head to look at him. He’s right there. Inches away from you. You lean in and right as you are about to close your eyes and fill those empty inches from his face, you feel your face blush and you turn your head ever so slightly as he ends up kissing your cheek. 

No one’s ever done that before. Sure, you’ve had a kiss or two before. Your lips against another’s. You’ve even kissed him before. But for some reason, right now you just got so…Embarrassed. So…Flustered. So…Unsure. Somehow, this just feels wrong to you. 

What’s happening? Every other time it felt right, it made you feel loved, hopeful, secure. But this time…It’s different.

Oh well, brush it off. It’s probably just the night. The rusty, faded yellow trucks and the chirping crickets nearby are giving you the creeps. Yeah. It’s just the atmosphere. There’s nothing that’s changed.

He looks at you, studying your every movement, as if his hand brushing the hair out of your face will open the door to your thoughts. “What?”, he asks. He seems confused, curious, wondering. 

 ”This place is really scary at night, let’s walk a little further”, you say, trying to avoid the subject. He shrugs, but you can tell he knows something is up. 

Just keep walking, just keep walking. You repeat the words over and over in your head, trying to concentrate. Trying not to focus on him. Or his amazing smile. Or the warmth you feel when he gets near. Or his eyes that are so bold, yet secretive at the same time. No, don’t focus on these things, just keep walking. 

He bumps into you, knocking your pyramid of thoughts to the ground. You flinch, and he puts his hand next to yours as you walk, bumping your hand every time you step. Sighing, you intertwine your hand and his, and you two are now side by side, walking together. But still, you can’t seem to focus. 

His mindless conversation seems to flow in and out of your ear as you stare at the stars, looking at the airplane trying to fix your eyes on the configuration of a bird. 

Wait, there's the rusty rail. The bushes are that shade you know all too well, just light enough to stop them from blending in with the dark, a sort of green you just couldn't explain. 

You pause. He jolts forward as your hand holds him from walking any further. "This is halfway. The turnoff. Remember?", you whisper in a voice too rough and slightly condescending.

You're missing something. Why is this place so familiar, why does it seem so significant? You've only walked it once or twice before, just as much as the rest of the tracks. Why does this stick out?

"Oh. Yeah, I remember now, I'm sorry. Hey, I'll call you tomorrow, or I guess I mean today, okay?", he says, leaning in for a kiss. 

This time you don't push away, but you're not exactly leaning in, either. What's going on with your mind right now?  His lips brush yours and for a moment, you feel normal again, back to your old self, innocent, quiry, embarrased. You giggle at the thought of this, why are you embarrased? You've known him for so long, what's making you feel so embarrased? 

Brushing the thought off, you hug him and whisper "Goodnight" into his ear, and you two part. 

Now you're by yourself. The noises of the deep night seem to grow. Wings flapping over head, water trickling down the small waterfall created by the hole where rocks once were, crickets chirping, and early morning cars rushing to get to work before the sun comes up. It's all so intense, so terrifying by yourself. But you stay calm, stay collected. There's no reason to be afraid.

You check your phone for the time, 3:36am. You have to make it home before anyone wakes up. Remembering your mom always wakes up around 4 because of her headaches, you break out into a run. Stride after endless stride, rocks piercing your feet with every step. Ignore the pain, you have to get home in time. 

Getting off of the tracks and jogging down the street now, you slow down to a walk. Not as suspicious. You're only 4 blocks from home now, you can make it. 

When you look behind, you see headlights approaching. Ducking behind a tree on the corner, the car flicks it's blinkers to turn up the street you're on, putting you in plain sight.

Quickly moving to the other end of the tree, you seem to just blend in. Did they see you? Oh well, ignore it. They didn't stop, so you don't have to worry. 

You see your house now, only a few yards away, across one last street and over to your window you go. But wait, how are you going to get back up your window? You can't jump up that high. Where's the little step that was there last time?

Well...Time for Plan B: The door.