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'And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.'
~ Jane Auesten ~
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Fireworks
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Isabelle
My mom made us tacos for dinner. Let's just say they were exactly what I needed to end a day of building in a tree. Of course I wasn't alone, but that only meant we all suffered together.
Everyone had left afterwards, which wasn't a surprise because we all looked like walking zombies with blistered fingers and ankles.
I had completely forgotten about going to the beach with Milo until he came knocking on my door 30 minutes later, only slightly after the sun had set.
I'm now seated in his car, the windows down, and waiting patiently as he drives us to the beach. My tiredness that was dragging me on my feet, now completely gone, replaced with adrenaline.
What could Milo have wanted to show me at the beach after the sun was down. We aren't going in the water. At least, I don't think we are. What else could it be?
Milo on the other hand, was looking antsy, like he was scared. Sort of like he did when he wanted me to like something he made for me. "Are you going to tell me what we're doing again?" I ask as he parks the car.
I squint into the darkness, and only see faint shadows of the water crashing against the sand. "Nope." He sighs, popping the 'p', and hoping out of the car. I follow suit, opening the door slowly and jumping out.
I round the car, just catching a glimpse of him shutting the back of the car, and walking off with a bag. His muscles are constricting as he carries the bag over to the beach, which makes me wonder what could be inside.
I jog lightly to catch up with him, and by the time I do, he's setting the bag down, and beginning to take out boxes. It's too dark for me to get a clear view of what it is, but it almost looks like...fireworks?
"What is that?" I whisper. He takes out about 3 boxes, and sets them in the sand. When he turns to me, he's fiddling with his hands, and looking everywhere but at me. Even through the dark I can see his ears ting pink.
"I told you I would make it up to you, so I bought fireworks, and instead of from your house, you can watch them from up close." He explains quickly, and a little quieter than normal. "Milo," I start.
Fireworks. That sounds like such a stupid thing to get emotional over, but he's doing this for me. Milo went out of his way to do this for me, because he felt bad. "This is," I pause again. I have so many feelings, and things I want to say with no time to say any of it.
"Thank you." I finish, and leave it at that. I assume that he can hear the emotion in his voice because he smiles slightly and nods his head. "It's the least I can do." Then he turns around and places the boxes a few feet away from us. I back up more, giving him room to light the firework.
He pulls out a lighter, and does so quickly, jogging back to where I am. I watch the quiet, soft yellow light dim and fall into the box. Then within seconds, light shoots out of the small space.
My eyes brighten when I finally hear the sound that it makes in the sky. I smile, and stare as more flow into the starry sky one after another. Green, Red, Pink light up, filling my heart with warmth.
"Wow. I missed this." I mutter. It finishes up, and Milo goes back to start another one.
While the second one is going, I glance over at him, and he's just staring at me. It startles me for a second, until his gaze softens and a small smile rises on his face. "What?" I ask, confused. He shakes his head, and looks down. I hadn't realized how close we were until he crossed his arms, and his elbow bumped me.
"Your face does this thing when you see something you like. It's like your whole face brightens, and your eyes deepen, and you just become so entranced with it." He states. My face flushes, and I look down quickly to avoid more embarrassment.
My whole face brightens? Whole face. I feel his hand lightly lift my chin back up to see him. I bite my bottom lip between my teeth to try and hold back the shiver he gave me. I just stare at him, and watch as another firework lights the side of his face up.
He leans down, so that our noses are almost touching. Our lips, our lips almost touching. I suck in a deep breath, and hold it. "Milo?" I whisper. "Isabelle?" He whispers back. "What are you doing?" I ask, slight panic entering my voice.
"I don't know." I let myself take a moment to soak in his warmth. The way his body makes me feel light, like I'm flying. The way I can smell coconut coming from him. Then, with all the strength I can muster up, I push him lightly backwards, and take a step back myself
"I can't—not, no. You—you said it didn't mean anything to you. You said the kiss didn't mean anything. I can't do that again. It—it meant something to me Milo. You don't understand." I take in another deep breath, and will my body to let it go.
I shake my head, and turn myself around. I don't hear Milo call after me, and I don't listen to hear if he does.
I open his car door, and get into the passenger seat silently. Five minutes go by, and the back door opens. I assume he puts his bag into the car, because seconds later he's shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.
The whole drive home goes by painfully slow, where neither of us mutter a word. Our breaths are quiet, and our hearts silent. The only thing keeping me from losing my mind is the soft hum of music made by the radio.
He pulls into his driveway, and I fly out of the car as quickly as possible. "Wait, Izzy." I pause, and turn around. "Yeah, Milo?" I question softly. He sighs, and lays a hand on top of his car. "I'm sorry." He says.
"You keep saying that, Milo. Do you even know what you're sorry for?" He opens his mouth, and then shuts in quickly. I turn around and begin walking away again. I hop the step up to the door, and crack it open when it gets shut by a force behind me.
"Please, Izzy." Milo whispers. I look upwards at the closed door and see his hand extended from behind my shoulder. "Just. Let me explain." I turn around quickly and push on his chest.
"Explain what?" I try to express anger. I try to show my frustration through my voice, but all that comes out is desperation. "You don't understand. It's hard for me—"
"Hard for you?" I interrupt. I push on his chest again, and he finally backs up a step. "You're doing this to me! Your hurting me Milo!" My voice rises as I point a finger at myself.
"You hurt me! You already did. You broke me when you left without telling anyone. What scared you off? What made you so scared you had to leave? I see it on your face every damn day! What were you so scared of." He heaves and runs a hand through his deep, dark, black hair.
My eyes furrow in pain while I look away. "It's none of your business." I bite out. "Then let me in," he takes a step forward. "Tell me what's happened to you." He's asking me so much more than he thinks. He doesn't get it. He couldn't get it.
I shake my head and open my mouth to say something when the door opens. "Oh, Izz. Your back early." I glance at my dad quickly and then look back at Milo. He's begging me with his eyes to stay. I can see him silently asking to not walk away.
"Yeah. It didn't take as long as we thought." I answer him, still staring straight into Milo's vibrant eyes. "Hey, Milo." My dad greets. "Hey." Milo responds just as I did. "Ok, well. Do you wanna come in for some tea, or coffee?" Milo opens his mouth, but I beat him to it.
"Milo was just leaving." I don't have to see my dad's expression to know that he's confused. Probably wondering what would make me stubborn like this. Why I'm acting distant.
"Goodbye, Milo." With that, I turn around and walk past my dad into my house. He stays at the door, so I assume he's talking to Milo, but I don't linger down stairs long enough to find out. I beeline for my bedroom, and the minute I get inside, I shut my door and lock it.
I'm breathing heavily, and I can't tell if it's because of the stairs I just climbed or everything that happened prior. Leaning my head against the back of the door for support, I lift my hands and squeeze them to my eyes.
When I open my eyes, I catch the sight of a small flower on my shelf in my closet. I walk towards it and pick up the necklace. It feels like it's been years since my birthday. Since I found this charm in the dirt. Did Milo have it? Did Milo plan on giving it to me? Or did I just find a random trinket in the dirt after a night of partying?
I walk over to my bathroom, necklace in hand, and unclasp the backing. I slowly wrap it around my neck, watching it carefully in the mirror. I hold it together in the back and twist and turn like it might give me a better answer. A better understanding of the flower.
When no special sparks glow, I let go of one side in the back and let it fall into my right hand. Shutting off my bathroom light, I walk and do the same to my bedroom one.
Laying on my back in my bed, I stare at the old stains on my ceiling from the glowing stars I used to have.
As much as I tell myself to move on, my mind still stays behind. I don't want to linger on the past, yet it's still here. Hovering over me like a ghost, taunting and pulling.
Maybe I'll never get out of this nightmare.
___
I drag another plank of wood over to the saw to cut into smaller pieces. We got the main walls up, and now I'm going in with the smaller ones as reinforcement along with more nails and bolts. It's been cloudy today, the sun staying hidden away behind the clouds.
I'm wearing a light zip up jacket over a sports bra, the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. I underestimated the suns power to keep the air hot even when it's gone. I drop the wood, and wipe the back of my hand over my forehead to draw the sweat away before it has the chance to drip into my eyes.
Yesterday, I enjoyed working with all my friends, talking and laughing. Today, though, I just feel like doing it alone. At least getting the structure complete before I paint it. I've actually been prolonging this process all morning.
I finally figured out where Blake lives. It took some deep searching though. It turns out Blakes has been to Juvy before for drug dealing, which makes sense due to what Milo had told me. I don't think Blake's to blame though. Who knows why he needed the money. Maybe drugs were what he needed to make it through a beating with his brother.
Is that why Milo needed it? I shake my head, set the rest of the cut wood into a pile, and finally make my way into the house. After all this time, trying to figure this all out, now I have my answer and all I want to do is walk away. I want to forget all of this, but I know it's not that easy.
I need this. I need these answers. There has to be a reason that Blake was blocked out of my memory. Blake has to correlate with him somehow. My shower goes by quicker then I would have liked, and I'm soon getting changed into a white tank top with a mesh oversized cover up over it.
I lazily braid my wet hair straight now my back, which just falls over my shoulder as I bend down to pull my jean shorts on. I grab a ball cap style hat—one I may or may not have stolen from my dad—and slip it snug on my head.
My parents are at work, and Luna's at the beach so I slip out of the house silently, locking the door behind me. I don't have a car, and It just so happens that Blake actually doesn't live that far from me. Closer to Mama Hazels, but the walk will only take 5 minutes at most.
The sweat has already begun to stick my hair to my forehead, even from under the hat. I walk confidently, and quickly down the sidewalk, only seeing a few cars pass by me. They wave politely, and I wave back.
I see his house coming into view, and a new thought enters my mind. What if Blake doesn't come? What if his brother answers the door? It's ok, I could just say I'm an old friend wanting to catch up. I mean, I'm not lying. Technically, I do want to catch up with him.
There's one beat down Honda in the driveway, that creates tension between the house and its dirtiness. Their house is big, just like all the other houses in the town, and it looks well kept. They have a small path created with stones that lead toward the door.
I notice the pretty tulips and roses in front of the window that are barely even reaching the bottom of the frame. Their curtains are drawn, leaving anyone outside wondering what could be going on inside. I walk slowly now, feeling nervousness drag my feet backwards, wanting me to turn back.
It's as if my body knows this is bad. My brain knows that something doesn't sit well here, and yet I push through. I get to the door, and realize up close that it's rusting, and peeling at the corners. I raise my fist to the door, noting that they don't have a doorbell, and knock three times.
It takes a hot second, then a minute, and my nerves bring more sweat to my arms and legs. The sun is still beating down on my back, yet the heat is nothing compared to my shakiness as fear strikes me deep in the gut.
I hear rustling, and suck in a sharp breath against my will. I hear a lock turn, and it jolts the whole door making small flakes of paint fall off. Then, the door finally cracks backwards, looking as if it's falling back into the house. It probably would if someone wasn't supporting the door.
It isn't Blake that answers the door, but my brain instantly relaxes when I see Ava on the other end. "Isabelle?" She whispers. "What are you doing here?" She steps out of the door, and it would take an idiot to miss her obvious limp. She shuts the door quietly, and folds her arms over her chest.
My brain stutters, and my mouth moves like a fish out of water. Why am I here? What am I doing? Oh right— "I need to talk to Blake. If that's alright." She stares at me for a hot second, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Uh, yeah. Ok. He's in his room. I would invite you in..." She shakes her head. "Let me go get him."
I nod at her leaving form, and wait all but two minutes before the door is opened again, and it's not Ava this time. Blake gives me a strange expression. Like he did when he saw me at the carnival. I smile at him, and wait for him to recuperate, but he doesn't.
"I was wondering if we could talk? I found some old journals of mine and—" I stop, and see realization finally take over his features. He flushes, like younger me described younger him doing countless times. "Mama Hazels is only a two minute walk? Do you want to talk there?" I nod, and finally see him smile softly at me.
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AN: School has been kicking my butt guys. Lol. Hope you enjoy this.