The sun is not even up yet.
5:30 a.m.
That's what Oscar's phone reveals as he turns on the screen. With much desire to close his eyes once again, he throws the sheets off him and heads to the bathroom. Of course, the first thing he needs to do is pee before heading to the sink.
In front of the mirror and with shaving cream splattered over his face, he begins to shave his beard now that it's starting to be noticeable. "Shit!" He repels the razor from his skin and watches a drop of blood crawl down to his chin. Quickly, he grabs a towel to wipe the cream and blood away.
Freshly shaved, he gets out of the bathroom and takes a peek into Al's room with a wide smile already pasted on his face. She's head down over her tiny bed with an arm wrapped around a koala stuffed animal Nana bought her years back. He watches her chest rise and fall in rhythm.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" he hears her whisper behind his ear though she's not really there.
He quietly enters her bedroom, nearing her bed. Once he's close, he leans down and places a soft kiss on his daughter's cheek.
She remains asleep.
When he's back in his room, he reaches into his closet and pulls out the first shirt his hand grips. A plain white t-shirt. Then, he opens his drawer to put on khaki pants. All dressed, he disconnects his phone from the charger, grabs his backpack, and heads to the hallway.
Shivers run down his spine when he closes the door behind him at the figure staring at him. "You scared me," he whispers, releasing a short chuckle.
"Good morning to you too," his mother says.
Mrs. Asher steps into the kitchen, but Oscar stops her. "I'm not hungry, mom."
"You're not leaving with an empty stomach, Oscar," she insists, turning on the stove.
"I'll pick something up at the store," he tells her, standing by her side. "I am in a hurry."
Mrs. Asher sighs and holds his cheeks with both hands. "Promise?"
He nods. "Promise."
She kisses his forehead. "Go ahead then."
"Love you, mom!" And he's out the front door.
He grabs his bicycle from the lawn and drives down the road, watching vehicles leave their houses to start a new day.
The city slowly awakens.
He stops in front of a yellow-bricked house with grass that tries to reach for the knees. Thankfully, Mr. Porter has left the lawnmower underneath a tree. Wasting no time, he turns on the machine and drags it over the ground.
Minutes later, when there is finally light in the sky, Mrs. Porter comes out of the house wearing her Christmas apron. "Would you like a drink, Oscar?"
"Good morning, Mrs. Porter!" he greets. He points at his backpack lying next to his bike on the sidewalk. "I have some water in my bag, but thank you."
She simply nods and goes back inside.
An hour later, the grass in front and behind the Porter's house is nicely trimmed. With sweat dripping from his forehead and staining his armpits and back, Oscar knocks on the front door. Mrs. Porter opens the door and lifts a finger, signaling him to wait. She goes to the kitchen before coming back with fifty dollars.
"Thank you, Oscar," she says, looking over his shoulder at her front yard. "Our yard truly needed a haircut."
Oscar grins, placing the money in his back pocket. "You're welcome. Have a nice day!"
He picks up his bike to leave when someone suddenly calls his name. Looking behind him, he sees Mrs. Mills, the librarian, coming out of the pink house next to the Porter's. She's wearing a white dress with roses printed over the material.
"Nice work," she says, nodding at the Porter's front yard. "Heading to school?"
"Yes," he replies, still holding on to his bike.
"On that thing?" she asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.
"Yes," he repeats.
"Nonsense." She waves for him to come over. "I'll give you a ride."
"No, I'm good—"
She plants her hands on her waist. "I said I'll give you a ride, young man." She unlocks her car. "It was not a question."
She pulls a lever next to the steering wheel and the trunk pops open. Oscar drags his bike over to her car and places it inside the trunk.
The inside of Mrs. Mills' car has a sweet scent that reminds him of vanilla ice cream. So sweet and strong that Oscar gets a slight headache.
"So you're the reason Theo no longer spends time with me?" she brings up, eyes on the road. "No jealousy whatsoever."
Oscar laughs, shaking his head. "Consider me guilty."
Mrs. Mills takes a left turn. "He talks a lot about you. Maybe a little too much to the point where I feel like I know you more than you know yourself," she says, eyes on the road.
Oscar is intrigued. "What does he say?"
She gives him a glance and sighs. "That boy will knock a shelf over me if I snitch, so you'll have to forget what I said once you're out of this car," she says. She stops at a STOP sign for an elementary bus to cross. "Theo is always thrilled to be sharing most days with you."
Oscar looks at his lap and smiles.
"For him, what is happening between you two is magical and quite addicting might I add," she continues, hitting the gas. "The poor boy is barely meeting an emotion he has been absent from his entire life." She glances at Oscar. "Love."
"Of course, his mothers love him and even I love him—just don't tell him that—but the kind of love he has for you is unique and completely new to him," she confesses. "Although he would never admit it before you do: He does love you."
Oscar watches her the entire time. "How do you know?"
"The same way you do," she responds, shrugging. "Everything's in the eyes, Oscar. They speak louder than the mouth."
She parks in front of the school and unlocks the car. "Now, I am not telling you to love him back, but simply to appreciate him," she says, adjusting so she can see him face-forward. "He's a good boy that deserves a meaningful love story."
Oscar feels a tightening in his chest that forces him to look at his lap. "I do appreciate him, Mrs. Mills."
She gives him a slanted smile. "That's comforting to hear." She leans down and opens the trunk. "Now get your bike before I'm tempted to steal it."
"Thank you for the ride," Oscar says, stepping out of the car.
Mrs. Mills nods at him.
He grabs his bike and carries it to the corner of the school. The entire time, the tightening in his chest remains there no matter how much he tries to ignore it. He leans on the wall to take deep, slow breaths. With each breath, the word 'love' echoes in his head back and forth.
Fear.
That's what he feels.
The last person he loved so much it still hurts to not see is now buried in a casket. She left him aching her warm touch and with a daughter she never got to watch grow up. And now, there is remorse that drowns him as he begins to feel like that special person is being replaced. Hence, the inexplicable fear that swirls in his chest that reminds him that with love comes joy, but also an unbearable pain he's not willing to feel again.
_____
A\N: Please like and comment for more! :3