Running From One Entering Another
Somehow even with out my parents, Chelsea has found a way to embarrass me. It's not how a normal teenager would be embarrassed about, some would even be proud. She told all the story's when I would come home drunk and start talking about random things.
Another long tale: when a bunch of my friends had went driving for the night. We first drove down Main street, but eventually we ended up on the east side of town, where the Liquor stores were located. The older boys among us had fake ID's and were going in to get beer. Sometime in the future I would be able to get my fake ID so I would be the ones to run in and fetch the beer. The two boys who were at the time seventeen ran in and ran right out. And their arms wrapped cases of beer in brown paper bags.
"Fuck! Go! Go, before that old hag realizes that we're not really from Hawaii and 21!" We peeled out of there so fast, the man must have thought we were underage. The night was blurry, it was my first time drinking and I suppose I over did it. Because the next morning My head was pounding so hard that I thought it was going to explode. Plus the sun was like my archenemy, I felt like a vampire out of one of those horrible teen movies. And to add to the mess I had to attend a graduation at the school, for exceeding Junior High. The boys ended up convincing me to drink more beer, because they said it supposedly helps relieve your hangover. It did. But I still had a problem in my hands to dispose of; I was drunk and terribly bad. I was sure I was going to die of Alcohol poisoning that day, and I'm surprised I haven't yet. My mother had told me to be home before ten because of the big event the next day; I was obviously not home at ten. By the time we made it to the school I could barely walk straight and my outfit was not appropriate for the occasion. I recall having worn a pair of chuck Taylor converse (Black if you must know) black jean pants, and a plaid blue and white shirt over a black t-shirt. My hair was a mess and my lips were at least twice their original size because I must had had a intense make out session with some girl at a party (Where I drank more beers). When my friends and I rolled into the auditorium, they were just starting to call the graduates to the stage.
"Rebecca Fickle" The principle called in the microphone which made his voice come out more louder through the speakers. The parents and friends in the audience clapped when she received her certificate of graduation of Middle school.
We stumbled to the side of the group of family members, and made or way down the ramp that lead to the side of the stage. I kept tripping on my foot and running into the wall because of the sunglasses that I forgot to take off when slipping into the school. The announcer has made his way to the end of the list of Last names that start with the letter F and is asking for the G list. By the time I make it up the stairs he has begun the names that start with the letter H and calls out:
"Samuel Henderson." His face pulls into a unconvincing smile to the crowd. He never liked me since my visit to his office for getting in a fight with his son. The audience claps, but it's weak unlike the others. I know they all know who I am, for I had a reputation of back talking adults in the streets or at the stores. "Samuel Henderson?..." He announces again, he looks around searching for me. The parents begin to talk among themselves. Then suddenly I fall right on my face at the side of the stage, tearing down the curtains that hung behind the stage.
Tony, the middle aged of all of us runs to the microphone, pushing the principle aside to talk.
"Hello everyone I'm Tony!" He says. "I just wanted to say that-" he turns looking down at the first row of seats, looking straight at a girl with blond hair. "Melody I have had a crush on you forever, and I speak in front of you declaring my-" The principle snatches the microphone out of his hands and places it back on the stand.
"And- And I want say that I have had the hots f-for M-miss. Ever-gray. Says Sam in slurred words. And Tony's in the background mouthing to Melody Crystal 'Call me'." Chelsea finishes up the story, cracking up laughing.
"Really?" Rachel asks, laughing with her too.
Chelsea nods her head still laughing, even adding a snort. "Then the whole crowd cracked up laughing, and looked at Sam's parents," she says stopping to laugh in the middle.
"That's crazy!" Rachel says.
"Ha-ha!" I laugh nervously. "Okay, Rachel I think it's getting late. Why don't I walk you home, eh?" I ask while getting to my feet.
"Hey! I still haven't told her when you guys went skinny dipping in the mall's fountain!" Chelsea protests.
I turn to look at her with wide eyes, shaking my head to tell her NO. She must have gotten the message because she winks at me.
"Don't worry, they were drunk and they had under wear on." Chelsea say's placing her hands on her hip.
"She's lying," I says laughing a little. I push Rachel out the living room and into the hallway. She's looking at Chelsea trying to see her face, but I keep pushing her.
"No, I wasn't!" she calls again when we have entered the hallway. "When you come back I'll tell you about the story when they tried to build a tree house in the winter, and they only-
"Okay! Goodbye Chelsea!" I yell over Chelsea's voice.
"But, Sam- What did you say Chelsea?" Rachel asks.
"I said they tried to build a tree house in the snow with o-
"We're going!" I pick up Rachel and hoist her over my shoulder, exiting the house.
"Sam!" she screams, playfully hitting me in the back. She giggles into my neck, making me smile. "Are you going to put me down now?"
"Nope. You'll just run back inside asking what Chelsea said," I shake my head, firmly.
She sighs, letting herself hang down my back. "I promise I won't." she tries.
I take a step down the steps and stop when I reach the ground. "Promise?"
"Promise." she assures, whispering in my ear.
"Well since you put it that way..."I lower to the ground, tell she's by my side. Then she looks at me smiling as she plunges up the couple of steps and to the front door swinging it open yelling :
"Chelsea! What did-" she ends the question with a scream. I grab her by the waist and pull her down the steps.
"Liar." I say loudly in her ear.
"Are you really calling me a liar?" She questions, raising an eyebrow. I can see her lips playing with a smile.
"Ha!" Is all I say. I take my hands off her hips and replace them with her hand. "Let's go."
We walk for a couple minutes in silence, enjoying the the quiet. But after another minute Rachel finally speaks. "Sam when you were in Tennessee did you drink as much as Chelsea describes you had?" She says so suddenly.
I wonder if that's what she had on her mind the whole time she was listening to Chelsea's stories of me. Almost all of them involve alcohol, and me being in the state of wasted. All of them had me making a fool of myself even if it didn't have liquor attached to the story. Has she thought of me in a different way since Chelsea revealed my regular day in my life in Tennessee. But she has looked at me different since in the tree's. Since I told her that the life I told her was a complete lie, and the cops are looking for. Does she still want to be my friend? My girlfriend?
"Yeah," I say pathetic. "Actually she was making it a whole lot less bad then what it really was," I speak the truth. When I'm drunk I'm a whole different person. I'm surprised my parents didn't call the police when I came home drunk ,tearing up the house from limb to limb or room to room. I'm the rough drunk. I get angry and physical when I have drank. It's never a good sight to see. Not a good one for Rachel to see of me.
She doesn't speak; I know she's thinking hard on what to say next to me. Thinking if I'm a safe person to be around. A good model to be around when she once was like me. She told me that she was once bad too, Yelling at her parents. But I don't think it would ever measure up to what I was. "Are you regretting?" the words escape my mouth by accident.
"Regretting?" I can hear the confusion in her voice.
"Regretting meeting me,Befriending me, Kissed me?" I say roughly. She has to. I'm a bad person, and I know it.
She snorts a dark way. "Yes Sam I'm regretting that I kissed you, that I told you about my past, that you told me about your past, and regret saying I love you." she says sarcastically. She grows quiet, the only sound coming from her is the sound of her walking.
"Shit" I think. Now I have done it. "Sorry." Is all I can manage saying.
"you know Sam you always see yourself as this bad person when in reality you're not that bad."
"But when I drink I-
"Exactly. The point is don't drink. When you drink it makes you something you're not. When I drank I became needy and mad."
"But you're neither one of those," I say matter of fact.
"I know, I see that. And you need to see that you're not a bad person earthier. You told me that you where running from your life and you're entering another, here with me. And this life here is a complete different one from the one in Tennessee." we have both stopped walking. "You need to add some of this life into your old one, make things right in Tennessee. You can't keep running from the old you from Tennessee."
"So I need to face the old Sam?"
"I'm saying you need to go back to Tennessee with your brother and set things right. The town in Tennessee thinks you're guilty of first degree murder. And what you are doing right now, here is making you look guilty. Running away from you're problems is never a good thing." When she says this I'm slowly realizing she's right. Because of me disappearing from my hometown is makes me look guilty. I'm regretting running away, letting my parents convince me that leaving was a good idea. But if I hadn't would I have ever met Rachel? Of course not.
"I'm the one regretting. Coming here, Making a life, that's what I'm regretting. Because I have to leave, set things right." The things I did at Lima was a mistake. Letting Finn get the best of me until I burst, leaving him with bruises. "But the thing I won't ever regret is meeting you." I say the last part loud and clear so Rachel knows that meeting her was not a mistake, as the rest were. "I'm going, soon."
"No." she says, shocking me. Does she want me to stay with her? Keep me a secret? Does she want to runaway, far from here? With me? "You need to go tonight, Sam." her voice is starting to crack. And I know she's getting upset.
"Leave? Tonight?"
"Yes. Go, I'm sure that you're family is missing you." Rachel says. Our hands have disconnected. My hand still feels the warmth from her skin. "I'll see you around, Sam Henderson. Because I know that you're innocent." I feel her leave from my present. She walk's around the corner which is where her house is located.
Is she right? Should I leave? What will Keith think? Will he agree? What is my parents going to say? What will the press write? With all the unanswered questions floating around my head I know one thing. The love of my life has walked away, leaving me heart broken. But there's another question that lingers by: Did she do it out of love or was it because she thought it was the right thing to do?
"Bye Rachel." I whisper. I turn around leaving something that I can't find in anyone else except Rachel. The walk back to the house is sad, cold, depressing. All the things you think when someone breaks up with you. By the time I reach the house, I have red eyes. I see Keith's Blazer in the front of the house. I walk by the blazer, running my cold hands against the hood. It's still warm so he has just arrived home. I climb the cement steps to the front door that has light shinning through the tiny window. I expect Chelsea to be devastated by the news of me and Rachel. And I know Keith won't at all be happy about any of this. I reach down opening the door to what lies head of me.
I predicted right.
Keith was angry, furious is a better word to describe him last night. And that was only when I told him that I spilled out my secrets to a girl. And when I suggest that we go, he almost about punched me. The anger on his face was indescribable.
Chelsea was devastated about Rachel walking away from me. She about cried when I told her, but she knew something was up because I came home with red rimmed eyes. After I told her the conversation that went on between us, she changer her attitude. 'She's right, we need to go' she said to both me and Keith.
Half the night we spent arguing with one and another. I'm sure that Rachel could hear our yelling from her house. After hours and hours of reasons to go back and reasons to stay, we convinced Keith to go home. And Keith finally accepted after so many bottles of beer that had been drank to the drop. 'Fuck! Fine! Get your fucking bags. We're leaving at dawn'.
Both me and Chelsea smiled with victory, we all went to our rooms and begun to pack. After an hour of packing, I slump onto my deflated air mattress and look out the window above my bed. I stay in that same position, for hours, my eyes only blink when I absolutely need to. The stars are slowly starting to disappear as the night has come to an end. Then Keith bangs on my door, signaling it's time to leave. Dawn has peeked over the horizon. But the tree line blocks the light from us.
We load the Blazer up with our bags and belongings. Soon we are pulling out of the dirt driveway and down the long driveway. I keep my head looking out the window, my eyes watching the trees above the car past by us. We hit a bump, meaning we have come to the pavement. I see Rachel's large house peek over the trees, the light in Rachel's room is off. I decide not to bother her But suddenly I see Chelsea looking at me, and I know what she's thinking.
"Stop!" I yell. The car stops and I fall forward hitting my head against the seat in front of me. "I need to say goodbye." I open the door fast enough that it doesn't squeak. I jump out of the car and run to the side of the Berry's house. I slow when I approach her window, it's so still I'm afraid to awake her. I look down, rethinking what I was thinking. I feel a present and look up, seeing Rachel's head pop out of her window.
"I wondered when you would show up." she says quietly. I can tell that I wasn't the only one crying.
"I-I just wanted to say...goodbye."
Her hair is down so it falls over her shoulders, then I think of Rapunzel and how she lent down her hair for her prince charming to climb up. Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts whens he says "Goodbye." I blink once then twice. I think something big is going to happen. That she is going to say don't go. Or let me come with you. I smile up to her and back away slowly. "Wait!" She says, surprising me.
My heart beat fasten and I wait for her to say something. Her head disappears from the window. There's a small sound of papers shuffling coming from the window. Then her hair and face appears over the ledge of the window. "Here." She lets go of a paper in her hands. There's a white parachute connected to paper as it floats downwards to me. I extend my hands and catch the delicate paper in my hand and hold it. "Read it," she says.
And I nod, looking up. "I love you." I say, it's loud so she hears from way up there.
She nods, looking down at me. Then I feel a drop of water hit my forehead. At first I think it's sprinkling, but then I realize it's a tear. Rachel wipes the tears that have not yet fallen. Her head slowly reenters her room and the windows shut with a small tap.
I regain my body and pull my eyes from the window and walk away from the house. I hear the blazer start when I come out of the tree line. The door opens and I jump in without ruining the white envelope.
They don't talk to me, when I close the door. And I'm glad because at any point I could burst into tears. She didn't even return the words when I said them. I wait until both pair of eyes are off of me when I open the letter.
I study the parachute first, putting off the letter. The white thing is made out of a coffee filter. She must have took time making the parachute because it is perfectly cut in a circle, and stirng is connected to the envelope. I tear off the coffee filter and view the cream envelope. Sam is neatly written on the front addressing it to me. I flip over the letter and see it is not closed. The flap is opened and I slide out the letter. It's printed on a white paper. It's computer paper, and filled with words that I don't know if I can read. I flip open the paper and see Rachel's hand writing written all over the page. I bring my eyes to the top reading the first letters
Dear Sam,
Like at any situation like the one now, I write a letter to the person I love. And declare my love for you.
But what I feel between us is just not love, I feel that I have known you forever.
And sometimes it seems like I know you more then you do, last night for example.
When we first met I knew you were different, just by the way you acted around me and the way you stood up for me
Even when I wasn't around, you defended me.
And that was enough for me to be happy but you were more.
I could right a whole letter on what I love about you but I think you would get bored and trash this letter if I did so.
When I'm with you I'm different, I'm more of myself.
I don't have to hide who I am when you're around and you don't earthier, even if that means your goofy impressions.
Everything from your eyes to your smell I'll miss.
I have cried, and you will probably see me with red eyes when I give you this letter.
I'm deepened with sadness that I have to let you go but I know it's the right thing to do.
You need to go home and set things straight, and I'll forever say you're innocent.
The stories Chelsea told me didn't make me feel regretful, it made me see the see the Sam from Tennessee.
And as I try describe to what I feel I can't but help but think what you are thinking while you read this?
Are you hating me because I walked away?
I want you to know that I did this because I love you.
I want you to do the right thing for yourself not because someone tells what you to do.
And if you are reading this then you didn't do it because you love me, but for yourself.
And that tells me that I also did the right thing. You made the choice to go home and face the music.
I didn't rewrite this letter over and over trying to put in order of how I feel and the right words.
I wrote this right when I came home.
I wanted to tell you what I'm exactly feeling and when you finish reading this you'll know what I'm saying.
You're not a bad person, Sam Henderson. I don't even think you can even try to be one. And I will never see you as one.
I'll see you around Sam,
Love Rachel.
I look out the window with a sad smile. Then a small tear escapes my eyes, and lands on the paper.
One chapter to go!