Make You Mine // {LaChambers}

Cigarettes and Stars

I slipped into my sleeping bag, legs throbbing and back aching. I wiped the few remaining sweat droplets off my forehead and tried to get comfortable with little to no success. I could feel scattered rocks, sticks, and pointy blades of grass sticking into my back, so I rolled onto my stomach instead. 

'That's worse,' I thought, flipping onto my back again. Then I tried side sleeping. Then onto my stomach again. Then I turned again. And again. And again-

"Chris, quit rooting around so much," Teddy groaned from next to me. 

I rolled my eyes, unbeknownst to him, and stayed on my back for a solid thirty seconds before the tossing and turning started up again. 

"Chris, for the love of all that is holy, if you're not gonna sleep, can you at least let me?"

"Alright, alright, I'm leavin'," I mumbled, getting up and hauling on my shoes.

"That's not what I meant-"

But I was gone before he could explain himself. I had too much on my mind anyways. All I wanted was to talk to someone about it, but Gordie was asleep. And even if he was awake, it wasn't like I could be completely transparent with him.

As I stepped out of the tent, I noticed a shadowy figure sitting on a nearby tree stump. While startled at first, I instantly knew who it was. 

"Hey, Gordie," I whispered, not wanting to further tick off Teddy for being loud. "You're still up?"

"Yeah," he whispered back. "I can't sleep."

"Me neither. Teddy's getting all pissy about it too,  'cause I was moving around too much or something."

Gordie let a chuckle slide. "Same with Vern-"

"What's it gonna take for a man to get some peace and quiet around here?" called Teddy from our tent. "First with all that moving, and now the talking-"

"Piss off, Teddy, we're going," I called back before turning to Gordie and lowering my voice. "Any idea where we're going?"

Surprisingly, Gordie shook his head yes and grabbed my hand, dragging me into the woods. He led me through about five minutes worth of trees before we stumbled upon a pond. 

"I don't think they'll hear us here," said Gordie, plopping down by the water's edge.

I followed, taking my shoes off and dipping my feet into the pond. "I hope not. 'Cause if so, I give up."

Gordie smiled. I took out my cigarettes, lit one up and took a long drag. It was the best way I could hide my nerves around him; if I didn't know what to say, I could pause and act like my nicotine addiction was more important than our conversation.

"Can- can I try a puff?" stammered Gordie.

I cocked an eyebrow. "You? You want to try this? What happened to 'oh, Chris, you're gonna get ball cancer if you keep that up'?"

"Lung cancer," he corrected.

I rolled my eyes. "Not the point, Gordo. What's gotten into you?"

His face turned a light shade of pink as he turned to look back at the water. "Nothing. I just- I think it looks cool when you do it," he mumbled.

My heart skipped a beat and I took a pause. "I- uh, well, alright," I stuttered. "Just don't get addicted," I said, passing over my lit cigarette.

Gordie gently placed it between his fingers and slowly brought it to his lips. He took one puff before immediately coughing it back up. I couldn't help but snort at him. 

"C'mon, man," he whined between coughs. "It's my first cig - I don't know what I'm doing."

"Here," I said in between laughs. "Relax a little. It's not an oxygen tank - just take it slower. Try to enjoy it a bit," I explained, taking back the cigarette. 

I took another drag, letting it sit a little before blowing the smoke into the night sky. "Now you give it a shot."

Gordie took it back, closing his eyes and inhaling before slowly blowing the smoke back out - completely cough free. He smiled. "That was . . . actually kinda nice."

"It's also, in your words, ball cancer-causing."

"Those are not my words. Like, at all."

I shrugged, taking it back for a puff of my own. We barely said anything else, with our shoulders touching, the moon shining and nothing but the sound of the outdoors filling our ears. We kept passing the cigarette back and forth between us; sometimes he held it up to my mouth and sometimes I held it up to his.

For a brief moment, everything truly felt perfect. It didn't matter that Gordie didn't like me back. It didn't matter that Teddy and Vern and Gordie were probably all homophobic. It didn't even matter that Gordie liked somebody else. Because, for a moment, I felt truly content with my life. And, for just a moment, I didn't want anything to change.

But time doesn't pause, no matter how much you wish it would. And eventually, the cigarette burns out. I thought that was it. We were going to get up and go back to camp and I would have to try and get some sleep.

I stood up and turned to leave.

"She's not a she," Gordie blurted before I could go any further.

I immediately stopped what I was doing and whipped my head around. " . . . What?" I asked, my face quickly burning up.

Gordie fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. "That- that 'girl' I like. She's not- she's not a girl," he stuttered. "He's a guy. I'm- I'm gay. And I know you probably think it's gross and weird and wrong-"

"I'm bisexual," I blurted, interrupting him and sitting back down. "So- um- I don't- I don't think that. At all."

Gordie looked up. We locked eyes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I looked away, rubbing the back of my neck. "So, uh . . . yeah."

We sat in silence, looking out at the pound, simultaneously refusing to make eye contact. I felt something graze my hand and didn't think much of it until I felt it again. Slowly, I grazed back, letting my hand fall into his.

I looked down at our then-interlocked hands. My stomach fluttered, but saying it was butterflies is an understatement. I noticed Gordie doing the same. He looked up, his face a deep crimson.

I couldn't take it anymore. I leaned in, closing my eyes. Our lips connected. For a moment, he kissed back.

And then he pulled away.

"We shouldn't . . . This is . . . This is a bad idea . . . "

And then he left. 

And I cried.

A lot.