SPASE

BEFORE: CHAPTER SEVEN

Warm air pushes out of the furnace and fills Maddie's room in the trailer. Being the hottest room in the house, Maddie wears a tattered tank top and shorts, feeling free and exposed. This is the only place where privacy takes priority and they can shut out the outside noise.

Maddie draws; they draw and draw until their fingers become numb, tingling all the way into their forearms. Feeling their fiercest, they make broad and bold strokes with each flick of their pen. Ms. P thinks that Maddie's comic will take them places someday and that they're actually talented, but honestly, the only place Maddie has to go is their closet.

Old pictures of Maddie's mother and their comic book sketches line the walls of the cozy nook. The walls are a collage of everything that matters to Maddie. It's a safe zone. They can be who they really are in there. No bullies. No deadbeat, alcoholic dad, who thinks he can play God. Maddie's walk-in closet is the place he thinks not to look when he's on a bender. It's only them and Big Burly Betsy; the person who encompasses bits and pieces of the stainless window that could make up who Maddie is. But unlike this fictional character, Maddie's pieces can't be mended.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It's 3 A.M., (the bitching hour as Maddie likes to call it). For the past three weeks, their nights have been filled with late-night chats with Melissa; the girl Maddie's heart beats for. Everything is new and feelings raw. They stop breathing every time they see Melissa.

"I wonder..." Maddie's thoughts trail off. "Does she feel anything else? Does she feel the electric magnet pulling us together? Is she sure that she likes me? Is it all a lie or a joke, and I'm the butt of it?"

The thoughts float away just as they enter their mind as if they are drifting on the water.

Maddie's thoughts trail into their own self-consciousness, pausing as Melissa taps three times on Maddie's window. Usually, Maddie and Mel stay up; laugh, and talk about what life would be like if they could just be their true selves without being afraid of being bullied, thrown out by their dads, and if their moms were still around. Maddie has told her how much they miss their mom since she died of cancer and how it haunts them that they couldn't do anything to help her. Melissa's mom left her too, choosing cocaine over family. Both their dads decide every day the bottle is a better form of medicine than therapy. Their fucked up dads bond them.

Maddie wonders what their conversation will be able tonight.

"Should I ask her?" The thought flashes through their mind. "I know she's told me she was into me, but it's intense for me; too intense and on the edge of obsession."

They're scared.

Maddie has only known Melissa for three weeks, but it seems like years. It seems like fate.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Maddie opens their window.

"Is your dad here?" Melissa whispers as she climbs in the window and onto the desktop.

"Nah, he hasn't come home yet," Maddie replies, trying to check her out, but not be noticed in the process.

"Well, it must be a doozie tonight," Melissa jokes, rolling her eyes and looking around at Maddie's gray walls, dubbed with NOFX, Rancid, and Foo Fighters posters.

"Why don't you put up more of your work?" Melissa asks under her breath. "You should be proud you know."

Maddie shrugs. "I've just never thought about it."

Obviously, they have. They just think their work is shit.

Melissa rings out her long, dark, hair from the rain. She is wet, head to toe, and her shoes squish into the purple, plush carpet in the room.