Titanium Promises

Twenty-eight

I'm back at the place I thought I would never see again.

His house hasn't changed at all. It's just as plain as I remember. The gray paint that blends in with the night sky, the white picket fence surrounding a front yard of vibrant green grass, the eerie feeling that fills me as I walk up towards the door. I raise my hand to knock, but an invisible force stops me. I can't do it again.

I retreat out of the front yard and onto the sidewalk.

I'm here, I text.

His response is immediate. Coming.

Soon after, the front door swings open. And I finally see him.

He looks the same as he did that night so long ago. The same curly hair, the long eyelashes, the pointed jaw, the rose that dyes his cheeks. But it's his eyes. It's his eyes that couldn't be any more different.

They're missing something. Their life.

I tell myself the nervous feeling in my chest is just from the night air.

"What are we doing?" I ask.

He looks away. "I thought we could go for a walk."

"Now?"

He nods. "Is it past your bedtime?"

The way he talks to me like he's known me for years sends chills up my spine. He doesn't have the right to speak to me that way.

"I'd prefer it if we didn't," I say.

He ignores my comment, walking through the front yard, and brushing past me as he walks down the road.

"Come on, Reid," he says, still keeping his eyes away. "You told me you'd listen."

Somehow, I push my nerves aside. "Fine."

We walk with at least three feet in between us—Shawn in the front and me behind him. I keep looking at the environment around us, a habit I picked up on from Luke.

Suddenly Shawn stops after we've been walking for a little while.

I look around. All I see is a 7 Eleven with one lonely car in the parking lot.

"Why here?" I ask as we approach the front of the store, only for Shawn to take a left and lead us towards the side of the building.

"Shawn, what are you doing?" I ask, getting annoyed.

"Do you remember the first time we hung out alone?" It seems like it pains him to ask.

Of course I do. We walked to the gas station store about a block away from our school and got one blue raspberry and cherry slush to share. Our tongues were disturbingly purple afterwards.

"Yeah," I say.

He stops walking, and I bump into him. But when I try to pull away, he grabs my forearm.

"Let me do this," he says. He finally looks at me with those hazel eyes I used to get lost in. "Please."

"Let go."

He does, and I step back.

"Don't touch me," I say, my tone harsher than I meant. "Talk to me."

He seems surprised at the rejection. "Okay," he says. "Wait here? I want to get you something."

I assume he means a slush.

"Fine."

He disappears around the corner and I'm left alone beside the building. Bored, I start wandering further down the side of the building. After a moment of waiting, I consider just leaving. Until I hear a sound behind me.