I'm Not Crazy (On Hold)

Owen

I wanted to go to Karen's party.

The rest of the week, it was all I could think about. The need to go was so strong that on Friday evening, my right knee wouldn't stop bouncing.

My mother was asleep the last time I checked on her and Marie was in her room playing some loud Indie music on her stereo. My eyes were staring out the window, but my mind was elsewhere.

The firm press of someone's palm on my knee distracted me.

Owen sat next to me, a thoughtful look on his face. His hair had grown some in the past few weeks and now several mahogany pieces almost touched his ears. I knew without a doubt that it would be short again in the next couple of days. It always did.

"What's on your mind?' he asked, his deep voice gentle.

A slow breath escaped my lips and fogged a spot on the glass. I didn't turn to him as I answered.

"Just about the party."

I knew it was ridiculous to feel so disappointed that I couldn't go to a simple high school party, but it was an experience I rarely was invited to. At school, I was that weird kid that everyone did their best to avoid, and at home, I was the child whose parents wished they'd never had.

"I see," he murmured thoughtfully.

We didn't speak for a moment, the both of us simply watching the rain drizzle down the from the darkened sky, reminding me of a couple years back when I'd first met him. . .

"Sang!"

My eyes darted around frantically through the rain, searching for a spot to hide while I could.

"The rose bushes," a boy's voice said from behind me.

I jumped, already on edge from running from my mother, and turned swiftly around.

A boy stood beneath the angel oak trees planted behind our house, his body engulfed in the tree's shadows as rain filtered down from the quickly darkening sky. His dark, brown hair was cropped short to his head and even from the short space between the two of us, I couldn't make out the color of his sharp gaze. A simple white button up was fitted to his torso, something that seemed odd to me since I was already soaked after less than a minute out in the rain and he didn't appear to have a single droplet on him.

Did he have an umbrella? Surely the trees wouldn't protect him that much.

Shaking my head, I forced my brain to get its priorities straight. The bigger question was not if he had an umbrella, but why he was in my backyard and watching me with a curious, partially surprised expression.

Footsteps sounded from inside the house and my heart dropped to my stomach.

"The rose bushes," the boy said again, his voice louder as he stood up straight. He held my gaze with more determination now and pointed to the roses. "Hide there before she finds you."

"Sang?" my mother yelled again, her voice louder now.

Quickly diving into the unruly rose bushes encroaching on our property, I made it just in time before my mother popped her head out the back door. Thorn scratched and clawed at my exposed skin and the branches cut into my knees and back as I ducked within their confines.

It was quiet while she waited, probably seeing if I would accidentally reveal myself. I'd have plenty of cuts from the thorns and prickly branches, but when I heard the back door close shut and the door lock, I knew she'd decided I wasn't there.