Combustion

nebula: four

Dylan and I arrived at Aaron's house. We were not the first people there, and we weren't the last. We blended in, just the way I liked it. Dylan had a gift-wrapped present in his hand, and I was glad that I managed to find a present. I didn't bother showing off my terrible present wrapping skills, so I just shoved it into a git bag. I figured if I could keep this blending in charade, then this party wouldn't go too terribly. 

 Aaron answered the door, two party hats lopsided on his head so that they stuck up like cat ears. "Hey, guys. Come in."

"Where should I put this?" I ask, raising the gift bag. The tissue paper was spilling over the edges. It seemed that I couldn't even properly gift bag something correctly. 

 "So you did bring a gift," Aaron observed. "You can put it over there," he said, pointing to the small circle of presents on a table to my right. It's actually surprising how oblivious I can be. I set it down and looked around. 

"Nice house," I said. I've gotten into the habit of saying this whenever I go to anybody's house, as you might have noticed. It was true, though. Aaron's house is nice. Big enough to be impressive, but small enough to be cozy. It's warm, with family pictures on the walls and sunlit high ceilings. There was enough of a mess for the house to be welcoming, but not so cluttered that it seemed messy. 

The other reason I said anything is because my mom loves it when friends compliment the house. Aaron's mom was not in the room, but I hoped she could hear me and I could get on her good side. That way, if I humiliated myself today, I might at least be able to leave a good impression on somebody. 

 I would love to say that the rest of party went more smoothly. Upon reflection, it went a lot better than I had anticipated it to. It was in fact, not a hazing ceremony, but your average run-of-the-mill birthday celebration. I didn't embarrass myself anymore than usual, so I only had a handful of self-deemed awkward situations. I'm sure that afterwards I felt like a massive idiot, but it couldn't have been all bad, because I can scarcely remember the party. 

 It was just standard. Aaron didn't really make a big deal about it, and it seemed like any other hangout, except presents were involved. We played a few rounds of Apples to Apples. I lost, but some people thought I was funny. We did some Mario Kart, and I didn't suffer any humiliating defeats. I don't know. It just felt normal. But since it was the first time, I was antsy the whole time. I was struggling for approval and just generally making it harder for myself. I'm pretty sure that olive branch of friendship had been offered to me, but I felt like it needed to be earned. 

 I wish I remembered more about this day, because I've always emphasized firsts. It's strange to think that I can remember walking up to your table more vividly than I can remember Aaron's party. Maybe it's because that first day (another first) was a catalyst to everything. Maybe I had subconsciously realized its importance, and my brain had worked in overtime to commit the entirety of the forty-five second exchange to memory. 

 The thing with firsts, is the potential. I think if you want to change something, you have to do it quickly and furiously. You have to burn though the box you have set up for yourself, and you have to determine what normal is. I think for you, this is easy. You have a feeling in mind before you've begun, whereas I have a vision and a fear of falling short of perfection. Of course, being afraid only confirms that perfection will not be achieved. 

 But rather than try to cause tidal waves in the water like you would have, I only tried to match its ebb and flow. I was not a lightning bolt. I did not shake things up and stir fry the air. I was thunder, an echo at best. I did not want to be noticed. 

 Eventually, you did teach me that you can't have fun in a pool if you're afraid of causing a few ripples. At the time, though, the thought of causing ripples terrified me, and I guess that's why this first faded into oblivion. It had dissolved in the tides of mediocrity, and I'm glad you made sure I didn't end up there. 

 There were two lightning bolt moments, though, that are still illuminating my mind. The games had stopped, and we had huddled around to watch Aaron open his presents. I was hoping to get a glimpse into Aaron's life, maybe understand his personality a bit better, but it seemed that nobody really took this gift exchange seriously, which was good, considering that my gift was far from serious. 

 Your gift, however, seemed to say more about you than Aaron. I'm pretty sure you told him to open your gift first, because it's something that I can hear you saying. 

 Aaron rolled his eyes. "I wonder what this is..." he said, in a voice that made it seem like he knew what it was. He ripped open the package and gave you a side-eye when the gift was indeed what he expected. 

 "How did you know what it was! Damn, I thought I'm pretty unpredictable," you said, crossing your arms.Aaron turned the gift so that we could all see. "Next time, don't get paint in your hair." 

You grabbed at your hair and examined the ends. Sure enough, there were splatters of red and blue flecked with the brown. "Shit. I painted it last night on a whim." 

 "Thanks, Em."It was a sunset, blazing hot and warm. Oranges and reds swirled with yellows so that the sky was on fire. It was painted desperately, with wide strokes, the paint thicker in some areas than the others. The edges of the painting were hinted with a taste of blue. It looked like it had been painted in a rush, not carelessly, but with short-lived emotion. This was the by-product of intensity. 

 "This your latest phase, Em?" Dylan asked. 

 "Maybe it won't be a phase this time." 

 "Phase?" I asked. 

 Dylan turned to me. "She tries things. All the time. She takes up these hobbies, and hopes that they'll stick. They do, for a while." 

 You frowned, "If you feel like you want to do something, you do it. It's only good while it's exciting. I'm not going to stick around for something that I don't care wholeheartedly about. I give it everything, or I give it nothing. Go ten thousand miles an hour or not at all." You wanted breathtaking. You made breathtaking. You were breathtaking. 

 "Well, we won't know until it does or doesn't." Aaron had moved onto the next gift, which happened to be mine. 

 "Wait!" I blurted before he could pull the present from the bag.Aaron was rolling his eyes, probably because he expected me to interrupt him."I just want to remind you and tell everybody else about the conversation we had yesterday. Remember how you were joking about me writing a poem yesterday?" 

He nodded, because it had only happened yesterday. Also, it was too embarrassing to forget."Well, I didn't write a poem. But I did find one that I think you would enjoy. It's written by the great Theodore Geisel." 

 Aaron took this as his cue to open the gift. He laughed, which was nice. "Thanks, John. Green Eggs and Ham. A classic."He started reading. "I am Sam. Sam I am..." 

 You looked at me. Your eyes were laughing, and you were smiling. The waters were far from calm, and it felt nice.

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help me i don't know what i'm doing