Between Two Eternities || Travis Hamonic

(28) S Under My Clothes

"Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day."

-Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

I haven't seen sun like this in weeks. Being engaged in a state of the art, pure white building only provides sunshine through glass windows.

I wasn't actually encaged like an animal. It just felt that way sometimes.

The campus really brought me out of it. Today is the last Thursday on campus for the year. It's a nice day, slightly chilly. Gavin came by my dorm this afternoon so we could take a walk; everyone else was busy.

There weren't many people outside, probably packing up their things before moving day. "Going home for the summer, Garden?"

I roll my eyes at the nickname; it makes me feel insecure. "Home," I mutter. "Yeah, going home."

"What's wrong with New York? I'd do anything to get out of this crappy state," Gavin complains and sticks his hands in his pockets. Gavin's persona screams New York, even though he's lived in "the middle of nowhere" (as he calls it) for his entire life. While most people I've met out here are content with their lives in a place known little for its excitement, and confident in how they live small, Gavin has always been different; feeling above everything small about Wyoming- and the people who inhabit it.

"I like it here. It's quiet," I say. No distractions in good ol' Wyoming, the most boring state in the USA. When he doesn't respond, probably annoyed by my opinion, I change the subject. "Do you live around here?"

"Nah, my family's got a farm in Sheridan," he says. I haven't been here long, but I know that people are very territorial. Sheridan is up north.

"So you work on the farm?" I ask. He nods and pulls his hood up; it's windy.

I know that he isn't lying about his farm hands, but for some reason I can't see Gavin like I see Travis - a strong, quiet farm boy. Sure, Gavin is strong; he effortlessly picks me up off the floor when I'm passed out drunk at a party. And quiet, more like mysterious I guess. But still, nothing like Travis.

"Do you like it?"

He scoffs. "Are you kidding? I can't wait to get away from that farm and never see one again."

His reluctance ironically only reminds me more of Travis. His complete contrast to Gavin makes me wonder what I'm doing all the way out here in Wyoming.

The farm conversation ends because I'm too distracted to keep it going. We end up sitting on a bench in the student quad. Gavin can't keep still, always shifting and bouncing his knee. I chuckle a little at his movements, and he scoffs and puts his arm on the back of the bench behind me. "You are pretty innocent, you know that Garden?" he asks.

"How would you know anything about that, Gavin?" I ask cleverly.

He shrugs. "I've been around my fair share of innocent girls. You're all the same."

"That sure makes me feel good," I say sarcastically and laugh. He doesn't respond with words, just leans back and stares at me amusedly. It doesn't make me feel the same way it did when Travis would look at me like that. Instead it makes me feel like I'll never be as good. Though I'm sure Gavin isn't doing it on purpose, he just has an attitude of supremacy that can make anyone shrink away in self consciousness.

His smirk all but morphs into a soft smile, an actual sweet smile, and his eyes drop a little so that they are looking directly at me rather than down on me. He starts to lean in and then suddenly his lips lock with mine. I am shocked. Gavin Thomason, a rebellious boy who loves only cigarettes and beer, is kissing me. He doesn't try anything more promiscuous and after a few seconds, I pull away. "Gavin ..."