Against Authority

Against Authority (15)

I threw my hands in the air. "You eliminated all of my ideas, and you don't have any. What are we supposed to do for the entire day?"

"Um, you've never seen my place before," he said with a shrug.

That was true. So far, he's been to my place three times, and I've never even seen his once. Not even from the outside.

"Alright," I said. "Take me to your sanctuary."

"Yeah, okay," he said sarcastically. "After you...malady." He moved to the side, bowed, and waved his arm in the direction of the door.

I know we were only joking around, but it felt weird. We liked each other, and it seemed as though we were just trying to do something to pass the time. Like we didn't want to admit what was really on our minds. Stalling was a better word for it. Or procrastinating.

I walked past him, and out the door, with him right there behind me. We got into his car, and he began driving.

Neither of us had much to say, so we didn't talk at all. I could really feel the tension between us. Without anything to say, our minds could just drift back to our main problem. Thankfully though, we lasted the ride to Chris' place. I looked out the passenger window and at the house.

It was cute. It was a small, blue, one-story house that I could definitely picture Chris living in. That house looked perfect for him.

"What do you think?" he asked me.

"It's so cute," I said, tearing my eyes away from the house to look at him. "It's your type of house."

"You really like it?"

"Of course I do. Why do you sound so surprised?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I thought you might think it was too wimpy and small for me, or something."

"You were wrong."

"I guess I was."

"Can I...see the inside?"

"Sure."

We got out of his car and walked to the front door. Chris put the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door.

When we walked inside, it was exactly how I would've pictured it. The kitchen to your left as soon as you walk in, the modern sofa and chairs that were farther back, the TV, of course. Everything.

"I like it," I said.

"Thanks," he replied. "It is small...but homey."

"Yeah, I agree. I wouldn't mind living here." When Chris threw me a glance, I quickly defended myself.

"I just mean that it is homey. A little more than my house, I must say. Don't get worked up."

I really needed to be more careful with what came out of my mouth when I was around Chris. He interpreted everything wrong, especially now. It seemed that I was doing more rewind and rethink than going along in a normal conversation.

He smiled down at me. "Okay. Would you like to see my room?"

"Uh, sure," I said slowly. My heart pounded loudly in my ears.

He led me down the small hallway to one of the rooms. We went inside, and I looked around.

It was a simple bedroom: a bed, dressers, and a closet. There was also a stereo and some CDs. My heart's pounding softened.

"May I?" I asked, gesturing to the stack of CDs.

"Oh, yes. Whatever you like," he said.

I walked over to the stack, and looked through them.

"You like classical." I pointed out.

"Yeah. It relaxes me. Do you?"

"Um, yeah. I listen to it every now and again."

I continued looking through them. I found a CD I recognized, took the case, and put the CD in the player. I pressed Play, and the room filled with the sounds of violins.

"Nice choice," Chris said, walking over and standing beside me.

"It was one I recognized." I shrugged.

"Even so...that's my favorite." He smiled a crooked smile.

Jeez, he could not make up his mind.

For now, he wanted us not to get too close, but he was making it extremely hard for me that second.

I made myself snap out of it-for both our sakes. "That's good."

I moved my eyes away from his and looked around his room again. I saw on his dressers some pictures. I walked over to one of the dressers and studied the pictures.

They were mostly pictures of groups of people-probably his family -and the one that caught my eye was a picture of Chris and a little boy in his arms.

Chris couldn't be a father, could he? He said all of his relationships ended badly. But that could have happened after...

I looked closer at the picture, and I came to the conclusion that the child looked nothing like Chris. But I was still curious.

"Chris, who's this little boy?" I asked him.

He came and stood behind me. "Oh, that's my nephew, Chris."

"Chris?" I asked.

"Yeah, my sister named him after me. I was a nice brother."

I turned to face him. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" I asked, repeating what he had said earlier.

"Because you know me," he repeated my words.

Okay, okay, I had to stop. We were going to go too far, and Chris would get mad. Even though this whole thing was stupid.

I turned around so I was facing the pictures again, and Chris explained to me who everyone was.

"Those are my parents," he said, motioning to a picture with a man and woman standing beside each other. "That's my sister, her husband, and Chris." He pointed to a picture with a couple our age, holding little Chris.

"What about them?" I asked pointing to a picture with a large group of people.

"That's my entire family," he said. "At our family picnic."

I nodded and studied the picture closely, making sure I would recognize the people if I ever saw them. And if I did, I hoped it would be at one of their family picnics.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

"Go?" I turned around and looked at him confused. "We've only just got here."

"Well, there's only so much to see in this little house." He turned off the CD.

"Okay," I said reluctantly. I didn't want to leave. There was so much about Chris that I wanted to know.

He smiled at my reluctance. "Come on."

He held my wrist, and we walked out of his room.

"Where will we go now?" I asked.

"Wherever you want," he replied.

"I can't think of anything."

"Then we can just drive around."