I spent the first Youth Group staring at the back of Esther's head. Her black hair was chopped short at her ears. Her knee was covered in band-aids. I smiled to myself. Somehow, it made sense.
Our duty was to pack food bags for the homeless. It was similar to Sunday School, because, well, the religious lessons. But it wasn't like class anymore. It was like... hanging out.
But with Esther, there was this horrible tension. This horrible guilt, this pressure on my chest, made it impossible to approach her, or even look at her. I wanted to reach out to her, desperately. But where would I even begin?
I felt her eyes on me sometimes. I wonder if she could tell when I was watching her, too.
At the end of Youth Group, there was a call to prayer. Our Youth Leader, Chris, asked us all to join hands.
I slyly manoeuvred my way toward Esther. As people began joining hands in a prayer circle, Esther and I made eye contact at last. Her dark eyes communicated something with mine, and she reached out a hand. I took it.
Chris began to spew some hipster nonsense. In my hand, Esther's palm was dry and cool. We glanced at each other, looking for answers in each other's faces. We finally looked away and closed our eyes in prayer. I felt her squeeze my hand in hers.
The start of high school was full of hope. My first ever phone was my mother's old phone, and there was a long, curious crack that ran through the top of the screen. With full access to the internet, I became enveloped in the world of videos, of video games. I wanted, more than anything, to make videos. I wanted people to see me, I wanted to have a community... I wanted people to watch my videos and talk to me.
Esther and I gravitated to each other at every Youth Group. Working side by side, she spoke to me quietly about her life playing soccer. It was her whole life. Her long, wiry muscles accounted for the hours she'd spent trying to improve. She was covered in little bruises, like a little boy.
I told her about my silly dream of making videos.
She laughed softly.
I laughed despite the insult. "Rude!"
"It's not like that," Esther said, still smiling. "I was just thinking that you'd be perfect for that kind of job."
I felt like my entire chest was split open for her to inspect. It felt like she could see every part of me. But it made me feel... safe.
"Maybe..." I started, "maybe you could come over sometime and watch some stupid videos with me," I suggested, finding it hard to meet her eyes.
When I looked up at her at last, her eyes were twinkling. She burst out with laughter. "God, Paola. Of course, I will."
It had been years since my father had seen Esther, and he wouldn't have recognized her now. Especially with her chopped hair. Either way, I told my father she was a new classmate. Not that he bothered to learn who she was.
In my room, Esther said, "This place looks exactly like it did when we were kids."
"What?" I said defensively. "There's... a new mattress. And there's a rug."
She laughed. "The bed is in the same place, everything is exactly as it was. Same mess," she added teasingly.
I laughed too. "Yeah, well... I still sort of feel like a kid. Or, at least, I miss being one."
But she was right. I was embarrassed, but I liked my bedroom the way it was. Changing it was... scary. I didn't like change. Esther sat on my bed and it creaked softly. She looked around, breathed in the air, and leaned over to play with the things on my nightstand.
I kept a lot of things on my nightstand. Coins, books, trinkets. Things that reminded me of something else. One of those things was a ripped piece of paper with a faded mark on it. A stamp, red, with the words "GOOD JOB!" printed squarely on a star.
Esther fingered the paper for a moment, a shadow of a smile on her cheeks. I quickly turned away and pretended not to see.
Spending time with her made me feel whole. When we weren't spending time together, we texted. When we did spend time together, we watched videos and movies and ignored the whole world. She was the part of my life I liked the most. She made me feel full.
I got my first computer when I was a sophomore. Esther had gotten one a year before, and she helped me set up everything I needed. I was so excited. I immediately dove straight into the wonderful world of video games, and eventually, I started to make videos.
They were of poor quality. But I made a few friends online, and that was special to me.
Esther loved that I made videos. She always left comments and supported me, and in turn, I went to her soccer games and learned what was going on so I could cheer for her.
At 16, I got a job working a fast-food drive-in, hoping to save up enough money for a better computer. and even some good recording equipment. And of course, a car.
When Esther was staying overnight once, she asked me about boys.
"So...?" she prompted with a teasing grin. "Have there been any boys that you've been talking to?"
I had a nervous habit of chewing on my fingernails. In an attempt to avoid looking nervous, I chewed in the inside of my lips instead. My heart pounded in my ears. The fact that she would ask me about boys, of all things. The fact that she would even mention it. I felt sick. "I guess, I don't know," I said.
"Well, who is it?" she prodded me with a nosy finger.
I giggled, despite myself. I couldn't help being ticklish. "No one, jeez!"
She laughed. "Liar," she said. There was a spit second pause. Then, she cupped my face and kissed me on the lips.
We kissed and kissed, and then we fell asleep facing each other.
The next morning, everything was wrong.
I woke up before her, and when I looked at her face, my heart lurched in my ribcage. My throat was closing, I felt trapped. I walked to the bathroom and took a shower, not quite processing the things in my head and shaking like a newborn deer the whole time. Fully dried and walking back into my room, I saw she was awake. I kept my eyes downward, and she seemed to sense the change in energy.
"Good morning," she said carefully.
"Hi," I said awkwardly. Silence hung in the air and strangled the warmth out of us both. It felt horrible.
I just wanted her to leave. She couldn't be here anymore, everything was ruined.
She seemed to take the hint. Esther was always good at understanding the things I didn't say. "Right. I'll just leave, then." She said, her voice thick with... hate.
I didn't say anything as she stormed out of the house. I just shut my door, put my hands on my ears, and closed my eyes until everything went away.
Please, please, please go away.
