He had his hands in his pockets and mine were at my sides. We'd been walking like this for some time now, silently. It should have been awkward, but it wasn't. It was quiet and peaceful, something neither of us felt very often.
It was probably six in the evening, just a slight chilly wind blowing through. I think both of us were trying to think of something to say. We were nearing his house, and I still needed to walk back to my place. The temperature was dropping. I'd never liked wearing coats, which could be the reason why I had decided not to wear one. However, when we were meeting up, it wasn't so windy. He had his black jacket on. He's asked me so many times before this day if I wanted to borrow his jacket that he was used to my refusal to the point of not bothering to ask anymore.
The year prior, I never dreamed of this situation actually happening. I thought I was in love with him. Ha. Love. What did I know of it then? If anything, I was infatuated.
But this year was different. This year we knew each other. Actually knew each other. He knew all of my secrets. I knew all of his. We'd had are highs and lows. He knew when he could jokingly insult me and when he couldn't, and I knew when I could steal his jokes and when I couldn't. We worked together on our projects and we hugged each other without my breath being taken away. He could tell when something was wrong. I could tell when he was about to cry. We knew each other's crushes and the people we wished we could kill. We were best friends. And I absolutely loved every minute of it.
For a very long time, that was fine for me. I was happy with the idea that I was one of the closest people to him. I wasn't sure if I loved him or if I hated him some days, but I never bothered with either feeling because I didn't want to ruin what progress I'd made.
But lately I've been contemplating the idea. I almost liked it. The idea of being in love with him. But I couldn't do that. He'd been obsessing over Catherine around then, and he already had Katie swooning over him. The last thing he needed was for me to come out and confess my undying love for him.
It was getting late for us to be walking around. In the silence, my mind raced like it always did when I was alone. I always ended up dwelling on bad thoughts when I had room for my mind to think about them.
"What's wrong?" he asked me, stopping his pace. I stood in place, looking up at him. I never realized just how much taller than me he was until I was face to face with him. I was five feet tall. He was five feet and six inches tall.
"Nothing is wrong," I lied. I didn't want to explain what was going on. I had so many things hitting me at once. How was I supposed to single one thing out?
"Elizabeth." He grabbed my wrist. It was completely unromantic, and in no way should I have gotten a rush from it. I never get rushes from him touching me. Unless we are alone. Unless he grabs my wrist. "Tell me one thing."
"What is it?" I asked him, reluctant to look up. But I know he hates it when I do something off-task when I am speaking to him. He likes me to look him in the eye and give him undivided attention. I hate looking into his eyes. I get lost in them and forget what I'm about to say. But I would never tell him something like that. So I always click my fingernails together or draw, if I have paper. Sometimes I pretend to be reading. But it never works. He always pulls me aside and tells me to look at him. And it is the hardest thing in the world for me to tell him no.
"Who else can you confide in?" He asked me, letting go of my wrist.
I hate it when he asks questions like this. I hate it because he assumes, all the time, that I can't tell anyone else. What I hate even worse, is that he's right.
"Nobody," I say, barely above a whisper.
"Riza, what is bothering you?" he asks at the same volume. I avert my eyes away from him and look to the dim sky.
For a little while I am silent. Usually if he asks me something, and I pause, he tells me to spit it out. But I believe he can see that I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to say this time instead of whether or not I'm going to say it. So he waits, and I can feel his eyes on me. He never takes his attention away from me until he figures out that I am seriously not going to tell him. But I do this time, once I decide which issue to discuss. There were so many hitting me that I didn't know what to say. So I mentioned the thing that'd been bothering me longest.
"Two months ago… my dad attempted suicide in front of me twice in the same day. I mean… he didn't really attempt. But he contemplated it. I was the only one there.. and.." my voice began to crack. "I don't really want to go to Silver Falls anymore."
For a few minutes we stand there silently.
"He told me afterward that the only reason he didn't jump was because of me and my brother," I explained, getting even quieter.
"Doesn't that make you feel better?" he asked, seemingly confused.
This is why I didn't like telling him about my problems. He didn't understand. God bless his soul, he tried. But he couldn't. How could he? His family was functional.
"It only puts more pressure on me. Basically, it means that if I end up going wrong or he ever thinks I don't love him anymore, he will leave us. And… I mean…" I mumbled, my tears fogging up my vision. They hadn't started leaking yet, and I was determined not to let them. It wasn't that big of a deal. I was only blowing it up. That's what my mother said about most of my problems. I hadn't told her about this one.
I stared at the ground helplessly, trying to find my words.
And then I felt a pair of arms around me.
My tears let loose against my will, and I began to cry. It wasn't the sort of cry that was more like watery eyes. No, I was sobbing. I was noisy. But I didn't care.
"What.. what if I loose him?" I asked under my tears, my eyes shut against his shoulder. "What if it's my fault? Because it will be. If he kills himself it will be my fault. He said so. It's not what he meant, but he implied it. What will I do without him?"
"Riza, just shut up," he hushed me and held me tighter. He didn't say in a harsh way. More playful than anything else. "It wouldn't be your fault."
We stood there for a while in silence as the tears dried to my cheeks. I wanted to stay like that forever. Unfortunately, there were people counting on me in the real world. I couldn't keep having nervous break downs like this.
But for now, I didn't care. I was in his arms and for now, nobody else mattered but the two of us.
The wind whipped at my cheeks so I shivered in the cold breeze. He noticed.
"What are you doing?" I asked, tilting my head to the side as he took off his jacket. "Don't take it off. You'll get cold."
"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. You are the one I'm worrying about," he shook his head, putting his arms on either side of me so he held his jacket behind me. He lifted it and sat it on my shoulders, so I was wearing his jacket without my arms actually through the sleeves. He held onto the collar of the jacket, and just looked at me.
I have no idea what was going on in his mind, but I know what was racing through mine.
And before I had any time to say anything, he kissed me. He leaned down and kissed me.
And I kissed him back.
Then I pulled away and eyed him. Because that didn't seem like him. For him to do something like that to me.
"Why did you do that?" I asked him, unsure.
"Do I need justification?"
"You love Catherine. I mean… You don't love me. You love her." I think I was mostly just talking to myself.
"What are you talking about? I don't love Catherine. Riza, I love you."
"No! No you don't. You can't."
"Why is it such a problem? You love me back, don't you?"
"But it's not fair to you. It doesn't work this way. You are at the feet of all the girls in the school. And all the girls in the school are at your feet. You love them and they love you. You don't need me to come and mess up that system. I don't want to make your life complicated like that," I shook my head, stepping back from him.
He let out a sigh, bringing his hand to his forehead. "I don't love them like I love you. Of course I like their attention; who wouldn't? But it has always been complicated for me with you. I don't know how long I've known, but I do love you. I wish there was a way to prove it to you. But it's not that simple."
"You wouldn't want to let down Katie."
"Riza, that's not it."
"If you loved me like you say you do, why haven't you told me before?"
"I wasn't sure you felt the same way."
"Yes, you already knew. You knew how I felt. You said so."
"Alright, enough! I knew you loved me. I didn't want to tell you of my feelings. I didn't want to ruin any kind of friendship we already have."
I was silent. I could hear my heart thumping, and I think he could, too.
"Listen to me, Riza," he said, stepping closer to me and taking my shoulders in his grasp. "I do love you."
We kissed again. But this time we were sure of our actions.
But later on we agreed to remain the friends that we already had been, in fear that a break up could ruin the relationship. I still have my doubts about Catherine and Katie. But for now, I can believe that he loves me. And I love him back.
