An apology, that's what I got. It didn't fit for some reason, I thought I'd feel better getting things straight, hearing him feel bad about what he did, and after all that, I just felt like a jerk. We wandered around until he brought up getting home before his mom did. We walked solemnly there, and I just watched his back retreat as he strode up the front steps.
When he disappeared behind the door, dread filled my stomach. Now I'd have to face my punishment. My shoes were heavy like cinderblocks as I shuffled towards home. The sun was dipping below the trees and the winter streets hummed in silence. I missed summer.
My house finally came into view, looking harmless and homey but on the inside was a different story. I swallowed thickly and made my way inside. "Gordon Lachance!" Rang out as soon as I shut the door. My mother looked so furious, her face was tinted red, her eyebrows and nose scrunched. I should've just stayed out.
She proceeded to fume about how angry she was, how worried. She paced the floor, her shoes clicking with each step almost like punctuation to her statements, and I just stood there wide eyed, clenching my jacket. Her arms were waving around, "And if you weren't home by sundown, young man, I was going to call the police! Your father is so disappointed in you for disobeying us! Your not allow out of this house until after Christmas break, is that understood?" Hands on her hip, huffing and puffing, her hair was in disarray.
"Yes, ma'am." I frowned down at my soaked shoes. I knew it was going to be bad, I half expected my dad to be there screaming at me, grounding me until graduation, going on and on about how Denny would have never done such a thing.
"Dinner's almost ready, wash up." My mom turned on her heels and stormed into the kitchen.
Dinner passed awkwardly with stern looks from both sides of the table, I could barely breath.
Being confide to the house, my days were filled with doing massive amounts of housework to straight out my behavior problem. However after day three of my punishment my mom laughed at me pushing the vacuum around the living room like it was going to break. After that I knew she wasn't mad anymore, which made prison a whole lot easier.
I was allowed out of the house for Christmas shopping. I held things and carried boxes and bags home, but I wasn't allowed out of my mother's sight other than trips to the bathroom.
Standing in the clothing store, I had three women's dress draped over my arm, feeling ridiculous, listening to her hum over with color would fit her sister best, the lilac, or the orchid. I just stared at them, feeling embarrassed. "Dorothy, so good to see you." It was Mrs. Chambers, smiling at the two of us.
They chattered away, my mom asked about the lilac, orchid thing, and I stopped listening. I was too busy keeping an open eye out for anyone I knew; I shifted the clothes to my other arm. Mrs. Chambers spoke up; asking my mom about whether or not she could keep an eye on Chris while the rest of the family was away. He'd some way weaseled out of going to his grandmothers after Christmas. My mom couldn't say no, she was mostly over the fact that'd we had been fighting over some girl. Whether or not she really fully understood the situation.
Christmas Eve was when my dad finally stopped reminding me how much trouble I was in and even offered to let me help him finish putting ornaments on the tree. So Christmas passed with out any Denny gloating, or reminding me that I wasn't allow out without parental supervision.
Two days after Christmas, Chris showed up early morning. His folks needed to get a head start before all the holiday traffic caught them up mid-morning. He'd gotten a haircut, no more drooping bangs, and it was like I hadn't seen him in forever.
I wasn't sure what was with us. Once alone, around midnight my parents fast asleep. We were lounging on the couch, him at one end and me at the other, watching Christmas movies, because nothing else was on. Both of our legs were bent at the knee, calves touching, neither of us really paying attention to the figures moving across the screen.
My mind was racing, I didn't want to make a move towards him, and so I'd been shifting my arms against my stomach awkwardly. We hadn't been on our own without some kind of conflict between us in a while. We were out of the groove, not the physical side either; it was more like uncomfortable silence between best friends. Where you don't know what to say or bring up because you lost that easiness.
I wanted to clear my throat or accidentally bump him, something to get his attention without having to open my mouth. It was just to weird sitting there with nothing to say. I was sick and tired of either feeling like an asshole or guilty, or like something wasn't right.
Taking in a deep breath I took my eyes off the TV, the lights were off, the screen casting a glow over the room. I was nervous, my chest felt tight. I wiped my hands on my jeans; did the room suddenly get warmer?
Something needed to be said, right then and there or I was going to flip out. "Chris." Came out a little louder than I expected.
His head turned towards me, "Do you want something to drink? I'm going to the kitchen." I was already pulling my legs from his getting ready to leap off the couch and take shelter in the kitchen like the coward I was.
"The movie's just is getting good." He said, "They're about to find out who took the money." His hand reached out and snagged my knee holding it firmly. "Wait until a commercial." Chris' eyes flickered from me to the TV and back. So I sighed and settled back in.
"Oh alright." I gave in; a scrape of tension was eased.
"Good." A grin was flashed my way, before his attention was back on the box. I thought neither of us were paying attention. A few minutes passed, the bad guy was revealed, and Chris' hand was still on my knee. I couldn't help but smile. An ad for toothpaste started playing and I tried to get up. However, that hand was still firmly on my knee.
I attempted to wiggle free but Chris didn't budge. A smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth. The hand traveled farther up my leg, and without even thinking I stopped it just at my upper thigh, holding on to his rough palm.
When I looked up he was staring at me, wide eyed, mouth slightly open. "What?"
"What do are you doing?" I asked. Chris shrugged and looked towards the TV. It was like he forgot that for the pass few weeks I hadn't seen or talked to him. "I mean I missed you too, but I think that isn't the best right now." His eyes turned even more from me.
There was the guilt sitting on my chest again, but I wasn't about to have awkward make-up sex on my parents couch. I let go of his hand, tossing it back at him, and made my way to the kitchen.
After my third glass of water, he came slinking in with his head down. Chris leaned against the counter, catty corner to where I was; quiet. I was going to say something, my mouth halfway open when I heard it, the slight sound of trying not to cry.
Chris has been one of the only boys to see me cry, and vice versa for him. His shoulder shuddering, trying to hold it in, to keep welled up tears from slipping over bottom eyelids. I slipped my arm around his shoulders, without saying anything.
After a few minutes, he'd gotten control and looked up at me, eyes red. "Gordie, I just don't know how to fix things. Man, we used to be so easy, you know? It was simple, we didn't have to work at us, because it was natural." He paused, and my throat was getting tighter by the second. "Then I had to go and fuck things up. First it was me kissing you, then trying to make you jealous with some girl, hell then I had to try and have a girlfriend and expect you to be okay with that." Chris' voice was shaky. "Now here you are through it all, sure you got me a good one, and made be feel like a piece of shit, maybe that's what I deserve, but fuck Gordo I just want my friend back, I just want it to be easy." He was attempting to hurry tears away with his knuckles.
I was slumped against him, my forehead on his shoulder, crying myself, "Me too, Chambers, me too."
A/N: I FINALLY get to post this.