My mom came home around 12:30. I was full of pizza and leftover Chinese food, and not in the mood to talk, that I just pulled up my blanket and pretended to be asleep. Luckily my mom's not the suspicious type, so she just poked her head in once then went to her room for the night. I wasn't that surprised. For the past few weeks she'd been home this late a few times. I didn't mind though. I liked having time to myself.
I must've been more tired than I realized, because the next thing I knew I was squinting as sunlight shined through my window. I yawned, and sat up. I glanced at the alarm clock on my bedside table, and saw that it was almost noon. Wow, I was such a teenager. I got up, stretched, ran my hands through my hair, and trudged downstairs. There was a note on the kitchen table.
Riley, I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye, but my
Plane leaves at 11, and I didn't want to wake you.
Marco said he'll get there around 3.
I'll call you later tonight. I love you, Mom
Okay. I had around three hours to do whatever I wanted… Was I really such a lame teenager that I couldn't think of anything to do for three hours on a Saturday? I guess I could hang out with guys on the football team, but I just wasn't feeling it. So I plopped down in front of the TV, and didn't get up until the doorbell rang.
Marco. Is it bad if I say that I honestly forgot? I guess it's true when they say that TV rots your brain. I jumped up from the couch and hurried down the hall. I paused for a moment to check my ruffle my hair in the mirror. Then I realized, one, I was being a girl, two, it didn't even matter. I eagerly opened the front door.
Two years hadn't changed him a bit. I couldn't help but feel a slight touch of my old crush coming back as I took in his short, black hair, his chocolate brown eyes, and stud in his left nostril. I thought all of this, and shook it out of my head, in under a second. Marco stepped forward and hugged me.
"Good to see you man!" He stepped back.
"Yeah! How was the drive?" I reached out and grabbed one of his bulky suitcases. He picked up the other one. Wow, he didn't pack light.
"Really good actually. Probably the only time I haven't been stuck in hours of traffic," he responded as we carried his stuff inside and up the stairs.
"Great. Yeah, when ma said you'd be here at three, I honestly doubted it." It felt so good talking to Marco, even about stuff like traffic. He was just so warm and easy to talk to. We set his things down at the foot of the bed in the guestroom. The only time we ever used this room was when my grandparents or Marco visited, so it was pretty clean. The guestroom wasn't anything special; there was a double bed, a closet, a bedside table, a dresser, and a TV.
"So, enough small talk. It's time for us to catch up," he said. He sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him. I sat down with him. It was pretty obvious what he really wanted to talk about.
"Okay, what do you want to know?" I looked at Marco and he turned towards me.
"What's up with you and Zane? Like, how public are you?"
"Just at school. But here, not a word."
"Okay…so I guess you're not opening the closet door any time soon?" He asked. Wow, Zane had just asked the same thing yesterday. I guess I didn't realize how many people thought I should come out to my mom. I mean, I guess they do have a point.
"No, not soon…but eventually. When I'm ready. I just came out in school so…"
"Cool, cool. I get that. Do everything when you're ready. But just a piece of advice: I'd tell your mom before you leave next year. It's a lot harder to find one-on-one time with your to spill your guts when you're in college."
I gave a small laugh.
"Yeah, I'd imagine." There was a short but non-awkward pause. It was never awkward with Marco.
"So," I started, "I guess I'll let you unpack your stuff. I'll be in my room if you need anything." We shared a smile, and I retreated to my bedroom. I flopped down on my bed and tried to sort my thoughts. Whenever I discussed my sexuality with someone it mixed my brain up a bit. Like I've said, I still wasn't completely used to it being known by people other than Zane.
My phone buzzed on the bedside table. I rolled over and flipped it open. I smiled; it was Zane. When should we get together?I got up and walked across the room. Leaning out of my door, I could just see Marco leaning over the dresser putting clothes away.
"Hey Marco," I called down the hallway, "When should I tell Zane to come over?"
"Whenever, I want to meet him," Marco called back.
"Okay!" I went back to my bed and opened a new text. Come over now! I couldn't wait to see him. I couldn't really go more than 24 hours without going through Zane withdrawal.
