All American Boys
Chapter 9: Green with Sadness
I had to speak to Hayden. Isaac seemed to have hinted to me something that I had always suspected, but he wouldn't tell me. Besides, I would rather hear it from Hayden's own mouth. The following day, after I had calmed down I sent him a text message first thing in the morning, asking to meet up. I didn't wait for his reply, instead heading to my wardrobe to pick out what to wear. Ever since Emily not-so-subtly told me that I should begin to take care of my appearance since I had caught Cyril's eye, I began to consider my clothes carefully.
Although deep inside, I knew it wasn't Cyril's compliments that mattered to me.
Instead, it was some boy with a pair of sad green eyes who made me melt. The boy who held me while I wept. The boy who told me that it was going to be all right.
He sat with me on the sofa, his arm wrapped around my shoulder as I turned on some Netflix on my laptop. I wasn't bothered about what show we were watching, so I just let him choose. He chose some documentary – I never even recalled what it was. All I remembered was the clear waters and bright green kelp, matching the colour of his pretty eyes. We seemed to be staring at each other more than the screen.
But it never got anywhere further than that. He left after he made sure I had all but calmed down, but not before we exchanged numbers. That night he sent me a few messages asking if I was alright. Truth be told, I was really touched by it, and replied rather swiftly even though I was already in bed. We had a rather nice, sweet conversation, talking about things like our favourite songs and what food we liked.
I couldn't help but smile thinking about it. I wondered what clothes Isaac liked. I wondered if he had a type. So many things ran through my mind as I tried to pick out an outfit.
I tried to pick out something presentable. In the end I settled for a black floral shirt and a pair of khaki chinos.
When I went downstairs, my mom was making breakfast, dressed in a cardigan and loose trousers. She had the day off. At least breakfast wouldn't be so lonely. She had made four plates worth of food, which she did sometimes. Recently not so much, but from time to time she would. I guess that morning is just one of those days.
"Are you driving today or is Emily going to pick you up?" she asked when I sat myself down on my seat.
"I'll probably drive," I told her.
"Be careful then," she said as she picked up her coffee, her other hand looking at her phone.
I continued eating in silence. Mom had really changed ever since Alicia died. She used to be really cheerful and gregarious, someone that was easy to talk to. But not anymore. She just kept to herself nowadays, barely talking to me. I knew she didn't hate me, and she loves me as her son, but it hurt sometimes. Some days she would barely acknowledge me. She was also this way when dad died all those years ago, but Alicia had managed to get her out of that rut. I guess you could say Alicia really was the cornerstone of our family.
My mother was a strong woman, and I knew it. But to keep her going through the tough times she tended to come off as cold and distant. I knew I was already eighteen, that I'm old enough to take care of myself. But sometimes I wished she cold spare a bit more affection.
I hated when it came to this. I knew she loved me and she shows it sometimes, and I felt guilty and ungrateful for craving more. But was it wrong that I felt that way? That I wanted something to fill this crater deep in my heart in the wake of Alicia's passing? With a sad sigh, I just ate my breakfast – scrambled eggs and bacon.
The sigh seemed to have made my mother look up from her phone.
"Alex," she said, looking at me with concerned eyes. "What happened to your cheek?"
"Oh this?" I blurted out, instinctively covering the bruise with my finger. "It was an accident."
"Tell me the truth Alex," she said, frowning. "Who did this to you?"
I averted my eyes before I could finally answer her.
"Isaac Anderson," I answered. "But it was an accident!"
My mother only sighed as she shook her head.
"Those Andersons are nothing but trouble," she muttered. "Don't you remember what happened with your sister? I thought he was good at first, but when they started calling your sister a whore where was he? It was his child wasn't it?"
I only kept quiet. I wanted to tell her about what Isaac told me yesterday, but decided against it. I had to speak to Hayden first and see it for myself. The marriage wasn't the only thing that I wanted to confront him about. But until then, I had to remain silent.
I continued eating my breakfast in silence. As I washed up, my mother took out two lunchboxes and packed up the remaining two plates.
"I know what you're thinking," she sighed as she packed. "That I'm probably an idiot for cooking breakfast for four when there's clearly only the tow of us left."
"Mom, don't say that," I said.
"It's true isn't it?" she replied. "They're clearly gone but sometimes I just wish they were still here."
She turned to look at me with tired, empty eyes. Eyes that were once so bright and vibrant now lay dull and exhausted. I took a step forward, opening my arms, ready to hug her.
But instead, she just turned away, and walked towards the stairs.
"Sorry for ruining your morning," she said. "I'm probably just tired. Anyway, you can have one of the boxes for lunch and the other's for Emily."
Without another word, she headed upstairs, and I heard a door slam shut. Sighing, I picked up the two boxes and placed it in my bag. Maybe she was just having a bad day.
I tried to understand, but it still hurt. It really did.
Without another word, I picked up my things and headed outside. I had a new message on my phone, but it wasn't from Hayden.
I couldn't help but smile as I read Isaac's text. It was a simple good morning message, wishing me a nice day, but it made me happy nonetheless. I asked him if he needed a ride to school, but almost instantaneously he told me that he was already on the bus. Alright, I told him, I'll see him at school.
When I arrived, I found Emily's classic Cadillac parked at our usual spot, so I pulled up and parked beside her.
She seemed to not realise that I had arrived, being too busy putting on her makeup in the car. I tapped her window, and she turned her handheld mirror towards me, making eye contact through her reflection. When you caught her doing her makeup, you can never peel her eyes off the mirror.
She looked pretty as usual, with her usual pale pink lipstick and eyeshadow. She wore a baby blue blouse, tucked into a pair of white jeans. Her outfit was great, as per usual, but I couldn't imagine if anything were to spill on those white pants of hers. Ouch.
She opened the door and eyed me up and down like she usually did.
"Well," I said, folding my arms as I rolled my eyes. "I wonder what the chief officer of the fashion police is going to issue a summon for today."
Emily only giggled.
"I'm impressed," she replied, stepping out of the car and locking the door behind her. "You actually did your hair. And your outfit looks pretty nice actually."
"Thanks," I muttered, unsure how to respond to her rare commendation of my fashion choices.
"You'll impress someone alright," she said. "Let's go."
"Oh," I said, fishing out the lunch box my mom had prepared for her out of my bag. "This is for you."
"Thanks," she replied. "But I already packed lunch for today. Why don't you eat it?"
"She packed two," I sighed.
"Well, would be a perfect gift for Cyril wouldn't it?" she said, nudging my arm.
Now that she mentioned it, a smile crept up my lips. I knew exactly what to do with the extra lunchbox.
We walked into the school and headed off to our separate lockers. Walking past everyone, I felt pretty confident. My heart racing, I wondered what he'd think of it. Sure, I didn't even make it myself, but I still wanted to see the smile on his face when I passed it to him. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.
Down the hallway I saw him standing by his locker. He wore a blue and white striped T-shirt and grey jeans. He turned to look at me, a smile curling up on his lips. Our eyes met for a brief moment, but he bashfully looked away. But he couldn't stop smiling , even as the blush crept onto his cheeks. I could feel my cheeks getting warm as well, my heart beating faster with every step I took closer to him.
"Alex!" I heard a familiar voice call out to me.
I immediately stopped in my tracks. My eyes were fixed on the boy in front of me, but he had quickly turned away, busying himself with whatever he was doing at his locker.
"Sorry," Cyril said, walking up to me from my right. "Did I startle you?"
"No," I replied, still stealing glances at Isaac from the corner of my eye. "I mean yes. I was uh- daydreaming and you kinda snapped me out of it."
"Sorry for that," the young man chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "I actually wanted to ask you something."
Cyril was dressed in a red Hawaiian shirt, matched with a pair of brown chino shorts.
"What is it?" I asked, still keeping an eye on Isaac.
"I was wondering if you were free this afternoon," he asked. "I was thinking that maybe we could hang out. There's this nice burger place I know and I was thinking we could get some milkshakes or something."
"With Shoshana and Aaron?" I asked, turning to look at him.
Cyril couldn't meet my gaze, his hazel eyes wandering elsewhere.
"Actually," he finally continued. "I was hoping if it could be just the two of us."
Cyril Crawford was asking me out. This was unbelievable. Not unbelievable as in something that was so good that it was hard to believe, but a Crawford asking me out was actually pretty preposterous. If it hadn't been for the fact that I knew that Cyril was probably innocent and had nothing to do with it, I would've walked off and told him to get away from me. But I knew my place, and I knew that angering another Crawford was probably unwise. Besides, Cyril seemed nice.
"Y-You could bring Emily if you want," the young man said when he noticed the silence.
"N-No," I replied, shaking my head. "Just the two of us is fine."
"Great," he replied. "I wanted to get that off my chest before anything else."
"Is there anything else?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Isaac was still at his locker, but he might as well be in Antarctica. With Cyril here, it's not like I could just approach him. Handing Isaac the lunchbox would probably leave Cyril with the wrong idea.
"I also wanted to ask if you'd like to walk to English class together," he said. "Don't get me wrong, but. . . I really do enjoy spending time with you."
"You didn't have to ask," I replied, plastering a smile on my lips.
The young man broke out into a nervous smile, before we started walking down the hallway, side by side. But deep inside, I felt terrible.
I turned behind to look at Isaac when we had passed him, and true enough, he was watching us. Our eyes met, and his green eyes just stared at me. It was only for a split second, before he broke out into a smile, but it still remained his eyes.
It was the eyes of someone who looked like he had lost everything.