A Boy in the Rain

Chapter 4

The rest of the day sped by like a ray in the water.

I held my phone constantly debating whether to send a message back or not. What would I even write back?

I could always say hello, But then again that would be too basic. I could always hit them with a snarky remark but then I would risk him shutting down. In the meantime, I would do nothing. I put my phone down and lay in bed.

I let the darkness of my room wrap around me, contort, adjust, and my eyes with it.

I felt every thread of the blanket twist against my skin, taunting, daring me to stay in place, even if I could not help but move and thrash against them as they scratched against me. I couldn't sleep it seemed. I couldn't help but think about Dean either.

How long ago had it been since we met?

A month? Two?

No, it was more. It was October now, and I started there in May. So 5 months then.

There must have been something to prompt this. A joke? A mistake? Surely he didn't mean to message me.

"Hi"

The message was just there, hanging in cyberspace. He must've known that I'd read it, and hadn't responded. What was going around in his mind? Did he hate me? Did he resent the slow response? Many things to ponder about, of course. But for now, all I could say was:

'themegamorgster: Hiya'

Yes, I'm aware that I've just overthought a simple hello, but mind you I overthink everything I do, so expect this quite a bit.

I let my phone rest on my bed again, and got up. Usually I'd be outside right now, walking, running, anything active, but this has just rattled me I guess.

No better time like the present, though. I sat up, and peered into my dresser. I chose a blue athletic shirt that complimented my current black shorts.

No one said fitness couldn't be stylish.

I took my phone with me of course, I wasn't going to leave the object of my current infatuation behind, particularly when I could receive a response back from Dean while I was running.

Shoes firmly on, I opened the apartment door and walked down the hallway to the stairs, choosing a song to blast while I got my mind in check.

The stairwell was as dingy as ever, which is why I thank I only live on a second floor apartment. The lobby was the same as always, empty, save for the mailman who had come to do his duties. A curt nod and smile towards the man, which he returned in kind, and the doors were open. It was chilly outside, but then again, exercise would warm me right up.

I started to walk, briskly, just barely a trot, just to get myself moving. I pulled my phone out to check any responses.

Radio silence.

I sighed, and took a breath, and brought up some music. I hit shuffle and from there I went.

One more breath.

In and out.

And start.

I started out at a slow pace, mostly because I'm not a good runner but hey, you gotta start somewhere.

One step, then the next, and again and again, until I'm even faster, racing along the road by my apartment, the only things keeping up being my mind and the wind.

I don't want to stop running right now. So I don't. I slow down. Every step I take is another impact on my body slow me sure, and the chill of the wind bites ever more surely with the beads of sweat everywhere on my body.

And then my mind catches up, and leaves me in the whirlwind of it's speed.

Why me? Why now? It's interesting sometimes how one can overthink. I know that if Dean followed me it was because we were friends, but a part of me could help but wonder if this was a joke.

I don't know him all that well. I hope for the best of course, but I can't confirm that my suspicions are correct. After all, I've been known to be wrong, and he's been known to skirt around questions.

The road gets a bit more difficult, filled with roots and cracks and gravel flying, as I race down the third block away from the apartment into the neighborhood park.

I make the conscious decision to slow, and stop.

I check my phone and there is still nothing on my phone. I should have expected as much. I'm only imagining something where there's nothing possible. I do hope that something might happen but then again, it's all just hope.

I put my phone back in my pocket and cross the small chain link fence into the park, illuminated as ever by the street lamps, and sit down on the swing, as I have for my whole life. Props of having lived in the area, you get to be familiar with places.

I hear a ding from my headphones. Startled, almost, I fumble my phone out of my pocket, and out of my fingers into the ground, every bit a butterfingers as I am delusional, hoping it's him.

This time at least my small delusions have paid off because on the screen I see:

"dean_thel1feguard: hey"

My breath hitches a bit, and stumbling for an appropriate answer my fingers rush to the screen.

Tap, and erase, tap and erase, over and over for a few minutes. He must think I'm an asshole after seeing all those text bubbles. Or crazy. Crazy works too.

But regardless, I feel he deserves an answer, so he'll get one. I don't ever know what to say, so I'll just stick with what works.

"megamorgster: hi"