"TRY DRAWING A NAKED PERSON. TRY DRAWING NOELLE NAKED."
Underneath the lights the stars provided, Tyler was nothing similar to how I pictured him in my head. His lips shone brightly as he licked them, turning to face me.
"When are you gonna stop staring at me?"
I blushed and looked at the moon but he grabbed my face and carefully had me look at him. Not roughly, moreso asking for my permission. I stared in anticipation as he came closer and rested his head against my chest, looking up at me. His hand moved, sliding down my chest and around my waist, fingertips burning me only slightly. He yawned, cuddling closer to me and nudging my jaw with his nose.
"Josh, " he breathed, and goosebumps littered my skin. "Sorry, this is all just really surreal. Who would have thought? And you thought my name was Joseph."
I let out a small laugh, skimming my nails on the skin beneath his shirt. The music from the party was very loud and could be heard from our spot on his roof. His noise of discomfort was brought to my attention and I looked down at him when he looked up. Gosh, he was adorable. Our noses brushed and he pouted, pointing to the large tree covering our view of the sunset. It was covered with some parts of moss on the ground, and the sun rising was parted from our view as it arose with a kiss goodbye to the moon being swallowed by the ground.
"We're gonna miss it." He whispered. I tilted his chin towards me and smiled, and even then my heart squeezed dramatically. On Monday he wouldn't even know my name. With the thoughts in my mind of our late night conversations and his stupid pick up lines when I was crying at three a.m, I leaned in and kissed him. He melted against me, moving his hand to the hem of my shirt to pull me closer as we simultaneously deepened it.
I thought: I'm kissing Tyler
I thought: Joseph ended up being Tyler
I thought: his lips are so soft
He whined quietly, butterflies filling my stomach in an instant as his hand curled around my neck and mine slithered themselves around his waist to pull him closer. He breathed heavily against my mouth, tilting his head to the side, tongue brushing mine, sweet and booze-free, yet it intoxicated me and made me crave more. I pulled away, gauging his reaction carefully. He opened his eyes, staring into my own. It was quiet, and you could hear a pin drop even though our breaths mingled between us.
"Josh? Get down here, its nearly six in the morning. Mom's going to kill us."
Tyler smiled at me, lips slightly red and eyes watering slightly. And I wish I could have stayed and made him feel better but Jordan was shouting at me to throw him the car keys and I didn't know what to do but lean over and kiss him again, relishing in the feeling of his lips on mine, before I jumped from the roof (which wasn't far from the ground at all), heart beating loudly in my chest. Jordan was gaping at me, and with one last glance at Tyler who was wiping his cheeks and sniffling on the roof as he dug his chin into his knees, the two of us got into the car and drove away. Questions were drilled into me the minute the keys went into the ignition, not allowing me a moment to breathe properly.
"Did you just kiss the Tyler Joseph? How on earth do you know him!?"
I swallowed thickly, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "I don't."
Because I didn't. I didn't know if Monday would come and he'd still want what had just occurred to be repeated. Whether or not the feelings were reciprocated was unknown to me then, and with Jordan's blabbing about me getting to makeout with one of the most popular guys at school, I realized he was the first person to have kissed me since my fathers boss did. I stopped the car, turning to my little brother. He raised his eyebrows curiously as tears blurred my line of vision. And I asked him if he could drive because I was in desperate need of release and I couldn't while driving. So we switched positions, and opposed to going to the passengers side, I crawled in the backseat, pulling at my collar as I heaved for breath. The car moved and I fell back against the seat, hands wrapping around my throat in an attempt to get air into my lungs. I slapped at the leather, groaning and scratching at my jawline, air roughly exiting my nostrils. I don't remember passing out, but Sandy poking my cheek and telling me it was Sunday was something I would never forget. She smiled brightly, and I could faintly feel my parents silk bedsheets beneath me. My mouth was dry and numb as I stretched, cracking my back and trying to sit up but feeling awfully light headed. My mother rushed in, pale face taking me in.
"Oh, thank goodness, Josh. Lie back down."
I obeyed because she had an odd aura around her that screamed mother! And I haven't seen it in quite a while. With my head against the pillows, she sat besides me, asking Sandy if she could excuse herself from the room before taking my hand in her own.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
Voice smooth like honey, she moved hair from my eyes and watched me stealthily. Last time she took care of me like this she was convinced I had tuberculosis.
"I'm fine. Thirsty." I replied. She frowned.
"You slept an entire day. Have you been getting enough sleep?"
Because of course the minute someone with old values is told the ways of the newest century, they are shot down with being dramatic and not valid. You're depressed? Find God. You're going to kill yourself? Stop seeking Lucifer. My mother was dressed. This was the only time I ever got to see her without a bottle of alcohol near her. Sunday. The party was on Friday, meaning I slept the entirety of Saturday without waking up once. My mother had her hands perched on her hips, watching me expectantly. I groaned fakely, putting a hand over my eyes in mock-pain. She squeaked in surprise and cupped my elbow as I moaned loudly.
"My head." I whined, needing her to get away from me.
"Oh, honey, maybe we should go to the hospital."
I sat up in an instant, shaking my head. "You should go to church, I'm fine, I promise." I assured, giving her a smile. She nodded slowly, making her way to the door but glancing at me before she walked out.
"In the name of the Holy Spirit."
I placed a hand over my heart. "Amen."
Once she was gone and I could hear the car pull out of the driveway and speed down the street, Jordan walked into the room. I had never seen this facial expression on him directed towards me: concern.
"Hey." He whispered. I smiled, because although Jordan made my life a living hell at times--he was still my little brother and I loved him. He left the door cracked and sat at the end of the bed, staring at me. I awaited his words curiously.
"You fainted."
"I know."
Silence. He pulls at the frayed bedsheets. "You didn't wake up right away. You were screaming and crying and choking yourself and I was yelling at you to stop but--" he cuts himself off, curling his feet underneath him, cheeks dampening. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him, pulling him onto my lap and allowing him to cry against my chest. He pulled at my shirt, shaking, sad, regretful.
"Don't cry." I said, moving hair from his forehead and lightly scratching my nails on his scalp. He sobbed, shrinking in my arms.
"I'm so sorry, I kept screaming at you and you couldn't br-breathe--"
I shushed him, kissing the top of his head and rubbing the goosebumps on his arms. I'm unsure how long we were there, with him crying in my arms and me telling him it was okay, because it was. Jordan could hate me with everything in him and I'd still love him endlessly because he was my best friend and my brother and the one I taught how to swim in the deep-end of the pool. Eventually, though, he got up from my lap and left the room with a snarky comment, and I went downstairs and cooked dinner while Sandy painted at the table. I didn't see Jordan for the rest of the night. I--surprisingly--fell asleep at two in the morning after checking my phone for messages and seeing I had none. I had no nightmares that night. I woke up at seven-thirty and got ready for school, my phone notification-less and my brother AWOL. The morning was cold and bitter, and by the time I got to school it was only worse as I stood by my locker and grabbed my books. Guidance Counselor lurked by the boys bathrooms, giving me an evil eye. Just as I walked forward to make my way to class I made eyecontact with Tyler, who was surrounded by his basketball-buddies. Testosterone oozed from them. I figured Tyler wouldn't know me anymore, so I continued forwards, not expecting to hear Tyler excuse himself from the group. A hand slipped into mine and I turned, the sight of him taking my breath away all over again--just as it had at the party and just as it had when I kissed him. His hand was warm in mine and I shivered, looking over my shoulder at his friends that walked behind us, not paying attention to his thumb rubbing my knuckles lightly. One pushed another and they both laughed loudly. Boys.
"Hi."
I moved my hand away from his, wiping the sweat off my palm on my thigh before grabbing his hand again. He blushed, head on my shoulder as we made our way down the hall. Multiple looks were casted our way as we stopped in front of his class, him pulling away to wrap his arms around my shoulders and look up at me, my hands on his waist. His friends waddled into the class awkwardly, not having the leader of the pack in front of them. Before my eyes could follow them my cheeks were being cupped and soft lips were against mine. I kissed him back but pulled away before I could get too into it. He grinned, eskimo kissing me.
"Good morning."
"You were crying." I pointed out, slipping my hands beneath his hoodie. He jumped at my cold hands and frowned, leaning in once more. It was a sensual kiss, one I didn't mind getting into. His teacher came out of the room, raising an eyebrow at us.
"I hope I'm not interrupting, Mr. Joseph, but I've got a class to teach." He said, tapping his foot impatiently. Tyler nodded, trying to meet my eyes but there was something he was keeping from me and no matter how much I liked him, I wasn't going to let him lie to my face. So I pulled away, making my way down the hall. He called after me but his teacher quickly ushered him into the room and I skipped school, not needing another thing to worry about at four in the morning as I held a razor blade to my wrist and thought to myself, just a little bit deeper, but I had not grazed the skin even once. This was utterly cliché. The high-school jock secretly dates the punk nobody with insomnia. They fall in love, make out in the jocks bedroom, and get caught by the jocks parents, who kick punk-insomnia kid out. Jock calls him a faggot at school the next day and it's over, just as quickly as it had begun. Tyler was different than I thought he was. He had secrets. And although he had a right to keep them from me, it would not slide if the secrets had to do with me. But he was ethereal. And I didn't know what to do.