LILY WHITE

FIVE

LILLIE

    Tommy and I walked, very silently, the 10 minute walk that it took us to get to his friend's house.

    I realize now that I know absolutely nothing about Tommy. I never knew he had friends here, I never knew he went to parties either. He told me after I got changed into my jean shorts and converse sneakers that there was a party that he wanted me to go to.

    I think the part that caught me the most off guard was that he said he wanted me to come with him.

    I don't understand Tommy now, I don't think I ever did. I never understood why he disliked me so much, I never understood his silence, and now I don't understand what's changed. I want to know what made him change his mind about me, what made him want to talk to me, to spend time with me.

    He's still only said a few words to me, but my curiosity is already set off and all I want now is to make him say more. I want to figure out what happens in his head, I want to disfigure his mind and make sense of him.

    Most of all, I want to comprehend his years of silence.

    I've always been able to read people, I read them like I read books. I can unravel expressions in an instant, I can see into people's souls and decode their moods. For Tommy, I can not get into his head like I can for everyone else.

    Tommy is a closed book that seems to be too heavy to open. He almost has no facial countenance, no character is known.

    But, now I have to know. I don't know what draws me to him, but it's pulling me closer by the minute.

    His friend's house is small, it's a murky brown on the outside and the wood looks worn down. When we enter no one is home and for a second I think that we've broken into the wrong person's home. Tommy leads the way to the back door and I'm now aware of why no one is inside.

    It's a bonfire outside.

    There's twigs being thrown into the fire in the backyard, everything washes out in an orange yellow hue. There are plenty of logs that people are sitting on and some foldable chairs have also found their way on the sand. I look out into the waters of the beach that everything lays on, the edges of the water are highlighted with the light coming from the fire.

    There are people everywhere. Almost every place to sit is crowded, some people stand, some are in the water. There is a line of maybe 20 people waiting to get their turn on the keg, another 30 linger around the coolers. Everyone laughs and giggles, talks and converses, everyone seems to be having the time of their lives.

    I'm still taking it all in when a group of three boys come running in our way. They are practically screaming Tommy's name and are beyond excited to see him. They say their greetings, ask how Tommy's been and vice versa. Tommy's hands stay in the pockets of his jeans, he smiles and laughs, but it isn't very genuine.

    All three of them look at me in confusion, that's when I recognize all of them. They're all my classmates, it's Frank, Oliver, and Liam. I look harder at the crowd and I realize that a good lot of them go to the same high school.

    Liam is the first to question Tommy. "You brought her?" His tone is full of puzzlement. The boys all look to each other in what seems like judgment.

    I wished I hadn't noticed Oliver hold in his laugh.

    I know why they're surprised, they're probably skeptical of Tommy, wondering why he would bring the weird girl to their bonfire.

    I'm not weird, but everyone assumes so. I'm quiet, reserved, I distance myself from the people that try to get close to me. This doesn't make me lonely, it is my choice to be this way, it makes me more self-reliant.

    The boys take Tommy's arm and step a couple steps forward, they look back to make sure I can't hear them. Then they start talking, I assume they are warning Tommy. Don't associate yourself with her, they say, she's weird, she's lonely.

    Standing with my back against the wood wall of the house, I start thinking, wondering why I'm letting Tommy get close to me.

    I wonder why, out of all people, it's him. I expect that it's because he'll go away after a few months. Then I contradict myself because if I managed to get attached to him, I wouldn't be able to let him go.    
    At this moment I make myself a promise.
    I can not get too close to Tommy.
    I will not get attached.

    But, that doesn't stop me from wanting to know him, from wanting to put together the pieces of the puzzle that is Tommy.

    Tommy and his friends are still gossiping, they occasionally look my way and back to Tommy. I don't worry about what they say because I'm not afraid or ashamed of my own image. I don't like the feeling of embarrassment, and I find that being embarrassed is simply a choice, and it's one I don't take.

    I get tired of standing there doing nothing, my back starts to hurt from the weight that I rest on it. I'm walking over to the coolers before I can really think about it. There is some bottle on the floor next to the coolers and I conclude that maybe those are better than the beers.

    My parents used to leave me unsupervised at family events and sometimes I would take sips of the drinks that were left unattended. I preferred wines rather than the beers because they tasted horrible, wines tasted like juice.

    But here I did not know the difference between the bottles in front of me. I pick one that holds a clear liquid, I put it to my mouth immediately and take one, two gulps. It's that moment that I realize I've made a mistake and that I have absolutely no experience. My throat is burning so bad and I gag into my hands, forcing myself to keep it in, please keep it in.

    I look back and Tommy is walking towards me, his friends have finished talking to him, but his face remains unchanged. I put the bottle down.

    "Did you just drink that?" His voice is so soft, almost concerned. His eyebrows are furrowed now and he looks at what I've just put down.

    I nod, closing my eyes to hide that they are watering, my hands are coming up to my face and covering it before I can even tell them to.

    "You don't have to do that," Tommy's hand is on my shoulder and I don't even feel it there. "I brought you here with me, you don't have to worry about them."

    This is the most Tommy's ever spoken to me at once, maybe ever. I have to correct his theory. "No, Tommy, I wasn't-" I can't seem to finish my sentence and I sigh instead. Tommy looks around for a second, then back at me, up and down at me. He appears to understand what I am trying to say.

    What I've just drunk is catching up to me and I feel it take more effect on my body by the minute. My tongue is so numb and when I fidget with my fingers they feel odd in my own hands.

    But, I'm not aware anymore, it's like my box has been unlocked.

I'm free.

All the sudden I'm not thinking as clearly as I usually do, my head isn't flooded like it usually is. I don't notice as many things, everything is blurry and it feels like I've finally caught a break.