Favorite Friend

White Teeth Teens

Actually, I'm not sure I got this.

Wednesday morning, I wake up with more pent up nerves than on the first day of school and the evening before prom combined; I barely manage to eat anything and spend at least half an hour pacing around the hallway before I can finally get myself to leave the house.

The bike ride to the Jacobs' house feels shorter than usual. I try to tell myself that, even though we haven't talked in twelve days and the last time we saw each other was weird, it's just Aaron. I've been to his house thousands of times; I know the wifi password and where his mom hides her chocolate stash and which steps to avoid when you sneak down the stairs. It's basically my second home and Aaron is- Aaron is home as well.

Still, my feet feel like there are weights attached to them as I prop my bike against the fence and slowly walk up to the front door. I take a deep breath and ruffle my hair, force my back to be straight. Then, I ring the doorbell.

In my head, I silently count the seconds, but I haven't even gotten to thirty when the door opens.

"Hi, Felipe!" Aaron's mom exclaims. She's wearing one of her bright orange blouses, her hair falling over her shoulders in long braids. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks," I murmur, scratching at my neck as I try to peek past her and see if Aaron is coming down the stairs. "Uhm... how was France?"

"Oh, it was lovely! Paris is absolutely gorgeous this time of year, and the weather is so pleasant compared to the heat here... But I don't want to bore you with the details, I'm sure Aaron has already told you all about it, right?"

She studies me with a smile, Aaron clear as day in the tilt of her head and the dimples on her cheeks, and I suddenly feel like I can't breathe.

Strangled, as if from underwater, I manage, "Uh, not yet. Is... is he here?"

"He actually just left a few minutes ago. I think he said he was going to the tennis court, but... I assumed he would be meeting you there?"

"N-no, but... It's okay. I mean, it's fine. Thank you for telling me," I stammer, taking a stumbling step back.

Her smile turns into something a little more concerned. Opening the door a little wider, she asks, "Felipe, is everything okay? Would you like to come inside and wait for him here?"

"No, I mean- Yes, everything's fine," I quickly say. "I just remembered I have an appointment that I forgot about, so I gotta- I gotta go. Bye."

I can feel her staring after me as I hastily cross the front lawn and get onto my bike, forcing my legs to cooperate even as they feel like they want to give out. It takes a few moments until I realize that I'm not going in the direction of home, but straight towards the outskirts of town.

It probably isn't a smart idea -just like going to his house wasn't-, but by the time I come to that conclusion, the tennis court is already coming into view and it feels too late to turn around now. Instead, I carefully lean my bike against the fence and enter the way we always do, through a hole in the fence right behind the bleachers.

I round them slowly, stepping over the shrubs and grasses that have started to overgrow the metal construction, my feet kicking up little clouds of dust. It's only when I've almost made it to the front that I raise my gaze.

After twelve days, seeing Aaron feels like staring straight into the sun.

He's sitting on the bleachers, one foot propped up on the row below while he's messing around with his phone, the other hand absentmindedly rubbing at his neck. The sunlight catches on the rings on his fingers and for just a split second I can feel the phantom touch of the cool metal against the back of my head again, taste his breath on my lips, and my mouth goes dry. I'm about to step around the corner, his name already on my tongue, but a second voice beats me to it.