In the shadows, under the bleachers

Chapter 18

Why did being here feel so weird? It hadn't even been that long so why did it feel so weird? I forced my legs to move up the driveway following behind Will.

"It's going to be okay alright?" Will whispered I had always admired his optimism even in the worst situations but now was not the time for it.

"If you say so," I mumbled staring down at my feet. My god, why did I have to be like this? All pessimistic and depressed? Why couldn't I just be normal?

"Just a quick in and out, alright reckless artist?"

I smiled, or at least tried to, "Yeah, alright." I fidgeted with my ring before taking one final breath and opening the door.

I gave the room a quick survey and noticed Mark, Mom, and surprising Dad all sitting around the coffee table in the middle of the living room. I shook my head quickly making my way tomorrow with Will following behind me.

"Alright," I sighed, "important stuff important stuff." I mumbled to myself, "What do I find important?"

"Clothes, jewelry, books, your sketchbooks," Will answered lying back on my bed.

"Close your eyes," I said, remembering my folder.

"Why?"

"I just remembered something but you can't look, so close your eyes." I urged.

"Okay, okay they're closed." He replied, covering his eyes with his hand for good measure. I quickly found the key which was hidden in between two books that were on the top shelf of my bookcase and unlocked the drawer carefully taking out the folder.

"You can open them now," I gave him the okay placing a few books on top of the folder.

"So what exactly was so very secretive that you had to place it under lock and key and that I had to close my eyes?"

"Nothing," I said moving over to my desk, grabbing my jewelry box.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Aiden?" It was Mom, "Can I come in?"

No, you cannot, you psycho.

I shook my head and continued grabbing my things. I tried to ignore the constant knocking that quickly began to get repetitive.

My eye twitched, "My god." I turned to the door, "You know what? I'm done, can you carry that stuff?" He nodded, "Great I'll carry this stuff." Which were my sketchbooks and my folder.

"Aiden please talk to me." Mom pleaded from behind me, I hurriedly made my way out the door which thankfully Will closed in her face. "Come on sweetie let me talk to you." I fought the urge to glance back behind me. "Why are you ignoring me? I haven't even done anything to you." You have done anything to me? Is that right? Is she still high as a kite or something?

I opened the passenger side door and quickly made my way inside locking the door.

"See what I mean reckless artist, we made it out in one piece."

Again, I admire the optimism but now was not the time for it.

"Barely."

There was a loud bang on the door, "Open this fucking door Aiden, right fucking now."

My eyes went wide, "Jesus Christ." I muttered. I turned to Will, "That's your cue."

"Right." He muttered driving away, I quickly glanced at my Mom who was on her knees in the middle of the driveway. Today already needs to end. "Reckless artist," Will whispered.

I blinked then blinked again before turning to face him, "Yeah, sunshine?"

"What are you thinking about? What goes on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing much just zoning out."

"Are you okay?"

I almost laughed, "Yeah of course I am, why are you asking?"

"Just making sure."

__

"Reckless artist," Will mumbled coming up from behind me wrapping his arms around me.

"Can you go five minutes without wanting to touch me?" I asked the two of us were in the middle of the guest room, my room while I was busy putting my stuff away.

"You know I can't."

I had the folder in hand which worried me. He couldn't see the sketches, he just couldn't. What if he thought I was weird? What if he saw me differently? My nerves were all over the place.

"I can practically hear the gears in your head turning," He whispered against my neck, "What are you thinking about?"

I stammered my nerves scared me, "Nothing, just let me put this away okay?" I waited until I felt him let me go. I took a few steps toward the desk.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I swallowed and nodded, "Yeah, I just need-" All of sudden the folder was out of my hands and in Will's. My eyes flew open and I felt my heart pounding in my ears. "Wait don't," I reached over to grab it but he swiftly moved away. He was on the bed with the folder in his lap carefully taking out each sketch.

I stammered over my words, "Don't talk." He held a finger up to his lips and turned to me. After twenty minutes my legs felt like jello but I refused to sit. My eyes were trained on Will. After a little longer he placed the sketches back into the folder and went to put it on the desk before turning to me. "Is there something you want to tell me?" He stepped closer to me, watching me.

My eyes flew to the folder then back to him and shook my head.

"Are you sure?" He asked raising a brow. I shook my head again.

He sighed and lifted my chin, "Your sketches are good, why are you so afraid of people seeing them?" I stared at him, the only thing I could hear was our breathing, "Well?"

I swallowed, "I'm not afraid of people seeing them, I'm afraid of you seeing them."

"And why is that?" Because I randomly started drawing sketches of you and I feel guilty. Fucking guilty.

"Because... because I started randomly drawing you four fucking years ago and I haven't stopped. And I feel guilty Will, fucking guilty and I don't even know why."

Suddenly he pulled me into a hug, "Well stop feeling guilty, I don't mind."