All American Boys

19. Our Lady of Sorrows

All American Boys

Chapter 19: Our Lady of Sorrows

"Wake up sleepyhead," I heard him say as he nuzzled against my neck. "Rise and shine."

"Ugh," I groaned as my eyelids slowly opened.

Sunlight was streaming through from the window. Shit, what time was it? I was so exhausted I probably slept through my alarm.

"Why'd you set your alarm so early?" Isaac said as he sat up. "Who even wakes up at that kind of hour?"

"I do," I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven," Isaac replied rather nonchalantly.

"Shit," I said, throwing myself out of bed. "There's no time for breakfast. Shit, why didn't you wake me up earlier? I could've prepared something for us you know it doesn't have to be grand but-"

"Hey, hey," Isaac said, placing his large hand on my back. "Relax, alright? We can go grab a bite outside."

"Yeah," I muttered, taking a deep breath. "I-I'm going to get ready."

I grabbed my towel and headed over to the bathroom.

"Hey, wait up!" he said, getting into the bathroom after me.

I slipped out of my boxers and went into the shower without a word. I let the water fall onto my skin as I closed my eyes. I tried to calm down.

It always ticked me off when something doesn't go my way. Everything has its place, a proper timeframe, a proper way to do it. I was supposed to get up at five. I was supposed to make breakfast and listen to the news. That was how my mornings were supposed to be.

I felt Isaac wrap his arms from behind me, wrapping me close to him.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he asked as he held me. "You're shaking."

"I'm supposed to wake up at five," I told him. "It's how it's supposed to be."

"It doesn't matter," he said comfortingly. "You woke up late, it's not your fault."

I let out a huge sigh as we stood there, the water wetting our naked bodies – Isaac wrapping me in his strong arms. He held me there for a while, until I finally asked him to let me go. I scrubbed myself with soap and he did the same. We really had to get going. There was still class to attend.

I gave him a spare toothbrush, and we both went on with our morning routines. There was a comfortable silence as we both did what we had to do – brushing our teeth, shaving, washing our faces with cleanser. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, just him and I. Sure, we had only started going out for only a while, but I couldn't help but feel that what we had was something truly special. Ever since he held me that day when I tutored him for the first time, when he wiped my tears and embraced me with such warmth, I knew that he was the one I needed.

"I know it doesn't matter," I told him when we got dressed. "But. . . I just feel really uneasy you know? I've been sticking with this routine ever since my dad died and. . . I don't know. It's just really unsettling. I feel so. . . helpless that I'm relying on something as meaningless as this just to feel like there's something worth living for."

Isaac buttoned up his white polo – the very same shirt from yesterday.

"Maybe you've grown dependant on it," Isaac said. "You know, to the routine. You just mindlessly go about it because it gives you a sense of purpose every day. And I get that."

"You do?" I asked.

I couldn't help but smile when he said that.

"You're a really strong person," he told me as he pulled me into a strong bear hug. "You don't need any routines or anyone to cling on to. You've been struggling through this all alone all this while, that's all on you."