Different colored minds

Dinner Guest

STEVEN POV

I stand outside of my house, on the sidewalk staring at it. It's weird growing up, watching a place age without noticing. The paint slowly peeling.
I look down the road. All the other yellowing houses. Lawns filled with old trampolines and bug ridden playground sets. It's a lonely place. I know most of the kids who live here, I've watched them grow up with me. And yet sometimes it doesn't feel like I've grown up at all. Sometimes I still feel as if I'll wake up and it'll be the day before sixth grade starts.

Specifically sixth grade.

A light turns on in my house as I step up to the front porch. Opening the door I step inside. My mom is in the kitchen.
"I'm home."
"Hi honey," my mom smiles.
"Good afternoon son," my dad is on the couch in front of a football game.
I step over to the couch and sit down.
"How are they doing?" I look at the screen, eyes trained on the cardinals.
"Not so good, they've been playing too defensively this whole game."
"That's strange," Then there's a knock at the door. My mom, my dad, and I look towards the door. 
My parents haven't asked about joe. But they know I miss my friend.
I get up to check the door.
Looking through the small eye piece the person I see is not who I expect. It's the smooth kid from some of my classes. I don't like that he's here. It feels like he's following me. A small shiver runs down my spine. I don't want to open the door.
"Honey, who is it?" It's my mom's voice.
"Go on and open it," says my dad. I do so.
Standing outside, one hand in a pocket, the other wrapped around a tin foil covered pot.
"My mom made a bunch of apple pies for a charity event she's doing and wanted to make extra for the neighbors."
"Thank you," my hands reach forward and take the pie. I feel ashamed.
"Why don't you come in?" My mom asks jovially. I step aside so he can walk through the doorway.
"You'll have to thank your mom for me Jeremy." My mom smiles. My eyebrows crease as I look towards the boy standing in the doorway.
Jeremy? I guess names really never came up. But if my mom knows him—shouldn't I?
"Thanks. I'll make sure to convey the message."
"If you want, you could stay for dinner."
"Hi Jeremy," my dad has now joined the throng.
"Hello," Jeremy's mouth twitches up in a smile.
"It's been a while, last time I saw you, your hair was super short."
"I've been growing it out," he smiles. If my dad knows him—I should really know him.
And then it hits me. Jeremy heathers. He lives five houses down. He's always video gaming so most times he doesn't leave the house. His hair used to be buzzed off almost down to the scalp. The only other times I'd seen him was zooming by on a bicycle.
My mouth is slightly agape.
"I'll text my mom and ask about dinner. Hey Steven, you okay with chilling with me until then?" He smiles at me. Another thing that is different about Jeremy heathers. The last time I talked to him his teeth were decorated with braces.
"Sure, we can go to my room," I say. He and I walk towards the back of the house. Jeremy and I were never close. I always assumed we were too different, and I always had joe until now so I hadn't even considered other friends.
I open the door and step inside; he follows after.
"So, you just recognized me, am I right?" He's smiling again.
"Yeah," i say bashfully.
"I had wondered why you seemed so cold.
I like your room. It suits you," I look around my room as he does.
"Thank you."
"Ny parents won't let me hang posters up. They say it destroys the walls."
He's looking at a large football poster above my bed.
"I wouldn't even know what to put on my walls." His hands are being held lightly behind him as he continues moving around the room. His scars cascade up his arms. He looks like a walking sliced up piece of meat.
He stops in front of the wall of awards I've collected through the years.
"So successful. It's kind of intimidating," he doesn't sound intimidated at all. He sounds almost bored, like he's soaking in knowledge through a textbook.
His eyes slide towards my desk with a book propped open on top of it.
"I'm not much of a clean person like you are, but at least we have similar study habits." He smiles again.
"Nice room," he turns around to face me in the center.
"Thanks," i mumble.
"I didn't expect this room to look like this to be honest. I always assumed we would never be equals. You would always be perfect in comparison." I look over at him quizzically.
"You know that whole thing, jocks are better than the rest of us." He stares around nonchalantly but I notice his fists clench in bitterness.
"Well I mean I've worked past a lot of those hard feelings, don't worry. But I guess a piece of it stuck with me. But you must not be a dipshit after all.
Assholes have clean rooms."
"Not all assholes."
"Very true. The real pieces of shit wear too much cologne too." He snarls.
I gulp. There's something more to this. There's something deeper than I can see right now. Something cold and withdrawn. Sinister.

"Jeremy!" It's my mom is far off still. I can hear her footsteps near my room. I'll never understand why she doesn't wait until I'm at the door.
"Shouldn't you be heading home about now? It's 10:30?" My mom opens the door finally.
Jeremy and I blink in shock.
"I just looked over at the clock," my mom continues in a disheveled manner. She must have fallen asleep on the couch.
"Don't worry. They don't care, just kick me out when you do," Jeremy smiles at my mom. The smile doesn't meet his eyes.
My mom does not look happy when she hears this. She's giving him a look I've gotten one too many times, concern.
"How about we call it a night, tell your mom thanks for the food and we'll have you all over for dinner some time soon," my mom concludes.
The smile slightly dips on Jeremy's face. He wanted to stay longer?

It's so odd. Joe never did this. I always was the one pursuing joe. And now I don't know how to feel. He's just like me. How could I have misjudged him?