"WET DIRT AND GRASS."
My father was the type of person with an ideal mindset. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Graying, thin hair, large blue eyes, happy smile when he isn't near a desk stacked with papers. I knocked twice and he looked up, a fake grin on his face when he saw it was me. Just me. First son. Biggest failure. I held up a bag and his hand swept the expanse of the room.
"Joshua, come in."
I set down the paperbag and looked over his office. At the encouraging posters, the sticky notes on his computer, and the pencils on his desk. He thanked me quietly, setting the paperbag aside. I peeked besides his desk and swallowed thickly, glancing at the hundreds of other paperbags that seemingly haven't been opened. I turned, making my way out of the room.
"Joshua?"
I turned to face him, watching as he raised an eyebrow expectantly. Moments like these are when I remembered he was my father and not a disappointed man. I quickly walked over, wrapping my arms over his shoulders from behind and kissing his cheek rather loudly. He laughed, patting my arm as I pulled away. "I hope you're doing well in school."
I said I was doing excellent. Straight A's. Honor Roll. Scholarship-worthy, don't even get your wallet out, Dad.
He squeezed my arm as I left the room, avoiding his boss's eye as I went into the elevator. As the doors shut upon my tapping against floor one, I caught a glance of the now elderly man in a wrinkled suit. He smirked and winked at me. Disgusted, I leaned against the pole of the elevator, trying to steady myself. It's been nearly five years and he hasn't kicked the bucket, as much as I hoped he would. Hanging over my fathers shoulder, reminding him of my accusation that everyone believed was false. Just as the elevators were set to open, my stomach lurched and I ran, out of the small confinement and into the fresh air of outside. It was cold, and although my mother told me many times to purchase a winter coat, I refused to. And so, with a few shivers, I walked down the road of crunchy grass to the bus stop. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, the screen hardly visible under this gloomy sky.
JORDAN: [1:24pm] I need a ride to Sara's party but mom won't give me one.
YOU: [1:25pm] if you plan on drinking I'll stay to take you back home, unless you want to crash at Sara's.
JORDAN: [1:37pm] I'll stay at Sara's but you should stick around just in case we fight, which is inevitable. Be ready by eight.
YOU: [1:40pm] ok.
The bus stopped two blocks from my house and I dismounted, hands deep in my sweaters pockets. Someone on a bicycle passed me but I ignored them, trying to gather warmth in the sweet haven of my hood. But curiosity ventured beneath my bones and I turned, facing Joseph. He was staring at me as he continued forwards, and before either of us could predict this, he rode into a tree. A grunt pulled from him as he fell, face-planting into the dirt. I giggled as he looked up, eyes wide. Biting my bottom lip to hold in my laughter, I jogged up the steps to The House and entered, hearing Sandy's cartoons and Jordan's music playing from his room. My mother was napping on the recliner in the livingroom. I set my bag down and went into the kitchen, grabbing a sippycup and rinsing it thoroughly before opening the fridge. I grabbed the applejuice and twisted the cap to open it, pouring it into the cup before closing it and returning it to its designated spot. I carefully shut the cup, stopping by the livingroom to hand it to Sandy on my way up the stairs. She beamed, kissing my cheek and sipping out of the straw.
My feet collides with the wooden steps as I run upstairs, passing Jordan on his way into the bathroom. He turns.
"Do you plan to shower?"
I nod. Words are useless to him.
"Wait until I'm done, I'll be a while. Pick out an outfit. Wake mom up before we head out."
I nod again. He goes and shuts the door, the sound echoing behind him. I walk into my room, heading straight towards the closet. Black. I wasn't particularly colorful when it came to outdoor activities. I grabbed a short sleeved shirt, tossing it onto my bed along with black pants. I decided to wear my boots and sat on my bed, taking a deep breath. Inhale. Words of wisdom. Exhale. Jeers of hatred. The pipes in the wall shook as Jordan turned the faucet on. I reached for my phone and decided to contact Tyler.
YOU: [2:00pm] hi.
TYLER: [2:05pm] sorry, I was riding my bike.
YOU: [2:07pm] strange, I just saw a kid from my school on a bike.
TYLER: [2:10pm] it was definitley me. Kidding, what's up, babe?
YOU: [2:12pm] getting ready for a party. You?
TYLER: [2:15pm] no way! Me, too! Jordan Dun's girlfriend is hosting a party and everyone's going, so I kind of have to.
YOU: [2:17pm] that's insane, dude, I'm going to that party, too! Jordan's my brother!
TYLER: [2:20pm] maybe I'll see you there.
YOU: [2:30pm] maybe.
TYLER: [2:31pm] if I do get the pleasure of your presence, would you dance with me?
YOU: [2:32pm] deal.
A knock sounded at my door followed by a yell of me to hurry up and shower. With a small smile I abandoned my phone and walked into the bathroom, stripping myself of my articles of clothing. They each fell to the floor with a clump, my feet cold against the tile as I padded my way to the bath. I turned the faucet on, hearing a knock on the door.
"Occupied." I said, raising my hands high enough to hook my towel. The door opened.
"Mom!" I screamed, pulling the shower curtain to cover my manhood. She jumped, eyes widening in surprise.
"J-Josh, you're never home this early, I thought you were out--"
"I'm taking Jordan to the party!" I blushed, realizing this is the first time she has seen me naked since I was eight. She nodded frantically, pulling the door shut behind her. I breathed out a sigh of relief, getting into the shower.
"Sorry, Joshua!" She called from the other side of the door. I leaned against the wall, the shower being built for someone five-foot-nothing. As the droplets slid down my face I exhaled, trying to get my hair wet.
"It's fine, Mom."
I heard her footsteps leave the corridor and grabbed the shampoo, squeezing a generous amount before slathering my wet hair with it. I wonder what Tyler would look like. What if his eyes were a gorgeous blue like the sky? What if they were gray, or green? Did he have braces? Did he need braces? As the suds fell from my hair I tried to picture him in my head. Nice smile, cute laugh, small nose, maybe he had sandy blonde hair and wore a seashell necklace around his throat. I conditioned my hair, humming a tune to myself quietly. Whatever he looked like, I'm sure he'd be beautiful. He was already so accepting of me and understanding of whatever I said. When we had narrowed our existence down to being quite near to eachother, our meeting up was inevitable, but somehow--underneath the waves of pain I felt--I was nervous. I lathered myself with Suave For Men, the scent filling the entire bathroom in an instant. A hard knock at the door. Jordan.
"Hurry up, we need to get good parking and Sara wants me to help her set up!"
I shut my eyes, letting the water slide off of me before shutting off the stream of water and wrapping a towel around my waist. The plush carpet dried my feet as I stepped on it, picking my clothes up off of the floor and opening the door. Jordan glared at me.
"You were in there for an hour. Hurry up!"
I swallowed thickly and nodded, making my way around him and heading towards my room. As the door clicked shut, I nearly grinned, feeling my mind explore the four walls in this confinement. Without allowing myself to dry fully in fear of my younger brothers wrath in the car, I quickly dressed, remembering to grab my phone from the charger as I made my way out. Sandy waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs as I made my way down, leaning forwards as she wrapped her thin arms around my shoulders and hugged me, chin on my shoulder. I didn't dare touch her.
"I love you, Joshie."
I lightly kissed her forehead. "I love you, too. Get some sleep."
Jordan huffed in annoyance twelve times in the car (but who's counting?). When we finally did make it to the party, it was seven-fifty, and he was furious.
"Didn't I tell you I needed to help her set up? God, can't you do anything right? You ruin everything!" He yelled as he got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. I followed after but went into the kitchen, avoiding his eye as he ranted to his girlfriend about me and my wicked ways of the west. Sara touched my shoulder, smiling brightly--friendly, almost.
"Hi, Josh, I'm so glad you could make it."
I stared because one, I haven't been touched by a female like this since my twelfth birthday; and two, I was unsure if I was okay with that. I looked up at Jordan. He was red, almost, and only then did I realize it probably seemed like I was checking out his girlfriend. I grabbed a cup from the counter--not checking it's contents like a sluggard--, tilting it back and swallowing the alcohol. Someone at the table whistled as my vision blurred.
"Dude, that was straight vodka, this man not playin', he came to party!"
Multiple screams of excitement were heard as my brother threw a hissy fit, slamming his fist on the table. I made my way out of the kitchen, feeling extremely nauseous and lightheaded. With the stars above my head and booze on my tongue, I kneeled on the grass, eyes squeezed shut as I puked graciously. My head spun, hand fisting the soil. Happy birthday, Joshua, and balloons, cake, and molestation. Ideal birthday party, presents galore, turning into my fathers boss's whore. More puke and I'm sobbing, spitting in finality and standing. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, disgusted. I needed to get home. I could just have Jordan call me if he wanted a ride back, but he was already angry with me. What else is new?
"First time drinking?"
My head snaps up at the new voice, falling upon Joseph. He sported black jeans and a sweater that said Ohio State University, cup in hand. I nodded and he smiled, pointing across the driveway.
"I have extra toothbrushes if you want."
I nod again, desperate to rid myself of the distateful aftermath of regurgitation. As he walks down the sidewalk, me following suit, I point to his cup.
"Rootbeer." He says as an answer, shrugging. "I don't drink."
"Because you're an athlete or because you don't like to?"
He halts for a moment, eyes raking over my features. I feel self-conscious. Do I have puke on my face?
"I've never heard you speak before, sorry. You have a nice voice. I don't drink because it tastes putrid and I'm seventeen."
I blush at this, deciding to look up at the stars. Joseph's house is big. Like I had expected. No one seemed to be home as he led me to the upstairs bathroom and allowed me to brush my teeth. He used Crest White Complete- Tartar Control, which I thought was odd. I was accustomed to Colgate.
I awkwardly stand in his hallway afterwards and he laughs, extending his hand.
"I'm Tyler Joseph."