I hear the doorbell ring and run downstairs to open the door. When I do I find James. He's panting, out of breath and attempting to wipe tears away from his eyes.
I can tell he doesn't want me to see them, but it's too late. I already have.
"What happened?" I ask, concern present in my voice.
James ignores my question, "Can I come in?" He asks, his voice shaky.
"Yeah, of course. Let me take that," I take his backpack and place it on one of the hooks along the wall.
When I turn back to face him again I ask the same question as before, "What happened?"
I can see the tears well up in his eyes and in an attempt to hide them he buries his head in my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him and he does the same.
We just stand there for a while, not saying a word. No words need to be said. I can feel James's pain radiating off of him. I know that whatever has happened, he must be going through a lot at the moment. I'm going to be there to help him through it.
Eventually James removes his head from my shoulder and pulls it back to look into my eyes, arms still wrapped tightly around me.
"I-I'm sorry..." he begins.
I bring my hand up to his face and use the brim of my thumb to wipe some of the tears from underneath his deep green eyes, "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. I'm here for you."
"Thank you."
"Do you want to go up to my room?"
Spencer is in the lounge and I think that James would like to talk in private.
"Yeah, that'd be good," he mumbles.
We walk upstairs in silence. When we get to my room we both sit down on my bed cross-legged, facing each other.
"My parents are getting a divorce," says James. This time I didn't have to ask, he just blurted it out. He looks relieved, like he's glad to have gotten it off of his chest.
I'm shocked. I remember not long ago this was his worst nightmare.
It was a warm spring day. School was out and James and I decided to meet at the town park.
We were sitting on the swings. Not swinging, just sitting there and talking.
"You know the last time you were at my house?" asked James.
"Yeah, I remember that."
"You know how my parents were yelling at each other?"
I was hesitant to agree. I did hear it, but I knew it upset him. I figured it'd be best if we talked it out however.
"Yes." I said.
"They're still doing it. It's been non-stop all week."
"Oh... I'm sure it's not a big deal."
"But what if it isn't? What if..."
James paused for a moment, "What if they get divorced?"
"I don't think they will. They've been married for years now, I'm sure it's just a bump along the road. It's normal for couples to have arguments."
"Yeah, I suppose your right. I'm probably looking too much into it, but the idea of them getting divorced just keeps popping into my head."
"Why does it scare you so much?"
"I... I don't know. It just wouldn't feel right. They're my parents, we're a family. We should stick together."
Looking at it now it's deeply saddening. To think that he's been worried about it in the past and now it's really happened.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," I'm at a loss for other words.
"Yeah, me too. They hid it from me for so long. I get that it would have been hard to tell me but I think they should have at least tried way before dad left."
"Wait. Your dad left?" I'm shocked. I didn't think he'd do anything like this.
"Yeah. I got home to him zipping up his suitcase."
"God. You'd think he'd at least try and hide it from you."
"Yeah. I think he may have done it in the lounge on purpose. Maybe he was hoping I'd see him. That way it'd be easier for him to tell me."
"Easier maybe, but not wise at all. If he didn't want to upset you he should have told you way sooner."
"Yeah. You're right," he says, letting out a sigh.
"I'm sorry James."
"Why? It's not your fault."
"I know. I just feel bad."
"Yeah me too."
"Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?"
"I guess you could just distract me. Tell me about how you've been."
I consider telling him about my father. I'm worried it may upset him more, but then again he did ask me to distract him. Besides, he was open and honest about his father, I should be about mine.
"My dad sent me a friend request on Facebook," I say.
He pauses for a moment, he seems more shocked than I was.
"Really? Did you accept it?" he asks.
"No. I didn't want to talk to him."
"That's understandable. Why didn't you tell me about this before?"
"I thought I could handle keeping it to myself."
James shakes his head, "Guy."
"Yeah?"
"I know you like to act all tough and like you can handle anything but it's okay to be vulnerable sometimes."
I blush. He's right. I tend to do that a lot. I guess I'm always so worried about everyone else that I tend to neglect my own issues.
"You're right."
"I know I am."
We both let out a chuckle before James's face becomes serious again.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Anything? Somehow I can't decide whether or not to believe that that's true. There's just one thing I'm not sure I'm able to tell him.
What if I tell him about my feelings and he doesn't feel the same? He could take it well, or it could make everything awkward. I'd lose him as a friend.
Then again, he might feel the same. Maybe I should just...
I'm pulled away from my thoughts by the sound of James's stomach rumbling.
"Sorry," he mumbles, scrunching up his face.
It frustrates me how darn cute he looks when he does that.
"You're really hungry, huh?"
"Yeah," he says sheepishly.
"Come on, lets go get you some food."
-----------------------------------
After we eat we find ourselves back in my room, listening to Fall Out Boy. For some reason I find myself thinking back to our dance lessons in P.E in year 9.
"Alright class, I want you to choose a partner. We are going to learn to slow dance." said our teacher, Mr Prescott, in his loud voice.
I turned to James, "Want to partner up?"
"You sure you wouldn't rather go with a girl?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. There are more boys than girls in the class anyway. There'd have to be one pair of boys."
"Fair point," he said, standing up.
After everyone had partnered up, Mr. Prescott began the lesson.
"Ladies, I want you to put your hands on your partners shoulders."
James looked at me with a panicked expression on his face, "Uh... who does what?"
"Do whatever feels comfortable for you."
He placed his hands on my shoulders without any hesitation.
"And gents, place your hands on your partners waist," continued Mr. Prescott.
I placed my hands on James's waist. He seemed nervous when I did this, but I figured it was because he'd never slow danced before.
"Okay, that's looking good. Now, I want you to move in time with the music," Mr. Prescott turned on the music, and the lesson continued from there.
I find myself wondering what it would be like to slow dance with James now. I can't just ask him, can I?
I push back all my nerves and bring myself to ask, "Hey, James?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to slow dance?"
He chuckles, "This isn't exactly the kind of music to slow dance to."
"I know. I just thought it'd be fun... for old times sake."
"Good point," he says, standing up.
I stand up as well and he puts his hands on my shoulders. The butterflies in my stomach multiply as I place my hands on his waist.
I've never felt this close to him before. We've held each other like this before, even hugged, but this just feels different. Like in this moment we are connected, one with each other.
We begin to dance, as if we were moving to slow music.
James has a huge smile on his face that he is trying to hide, and so do I.
I'm blushing profusely too. My entire face and ears are red.
Despite efforts not to I find myself staring into his deep green eyes, he stares right back.
My gaze lingers there for a moment, before shifting to his lips.
I find myself leaning in and he does the same.
Our lips are so close to brushing against each other...
Suddenly the door to my room swings open and we break apart.