Hide
He pressed his forehead against the glass and breathed. Hoping she wouldn't notice him. Hoping she would.
She laughed when the other boys told her stories of the brave, adventuresome things they had done with their young lives.
"I climbed to the rooftop and scared the crap out of my parents."
"Oh yeah? Well I held my breath underwater for 37 seconds the other day!"
"I got you all beat. I made it all the way to the bridge in the mountains."
She smiled, clearly skeptical, but all the while flattered.
He yearned to be the instigator of such a smile. He'd weave a thousand between the two of them if he could, if only there wasn't a glass pane, a wall, a crowd of eager admirers, a distant look that soared above his own head instead of into his eyes—if only none of these things would exist, then he could reach her.
"Hey, Tifa, let's go swimming in a little while!"
"Yeah, Tifa! I'll show you my cannonball!"
She scratched the back of her head and grinned. "Okay, I'm up to that."
And then, something the boy in the window feared most happened: she turned her gaze towards the window and looked directly at him. He felt his chest jerk in alarm; instantly, his blonde head disappeared beneath the window sill, and he pressed his back against the outside wall as if to keep himself from falling.
Moments passed, and he wondered if he had just imagined the whole thing.
Tap, tap, tap.
Above him, she was knocking on the glass with her finger. Her curious eyes had honed in on his obvious hiding place, and he thought he felt a blush creep across his face.
"Tifa, what are you doing at the window?"
"Did you see a bug?"
"—I'll SQUASH IT!"
Before he could blink, she had disappeared from the window. The front door exploded, and she stood before him with shameless innocence.
"Hi, Cloud!" she said, her voice strangely direct. "Wanna come swim with us?"
He blinked. Did she just… am I… uh…
"Well?" she inquired further, tilting her head. Her brown eyes almost looked red in the sunlight.
Hesitation.
"I, well…" he began, clumsily, "I don't know how to swim."
Oh my God. He wanted to stab himself in the head with a sharpened pipe. I did not just…
She laughed, but there was no malice in it. She said, "I could teach you, you know. Everyone says I'm the best at it."
He found himself grinning shyly. She took it as a compliment, and beamed.
Thud.
Suddenly, four faces smacked into the window glass, and four pairs of eyes boggled at the silly blush that had swept over his face.
…
"Did he say he can't swim?"
"YOU'RE KIDDING."
"What little baby doesn't know how to swim?"
"I bet he can't even wipe his own butt when he craps!"
"RIGHT! He probably has to call Mommy to do it for him!"
The shy smile cracked. His stomach dropped. His face burned, and before she could say anything, he turned and was gone.
And for the longest time, she saw him no more.
Because after that day, he learned how to hide.
But, unfortunately, not how to swim.