The Death of Me

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

            It was almost 12:00 in the morning when Jay and I finally walked back to his house, and where my bike was hidden. Still holding hands, we paused by his mailbox. He seemed to be thinking something over, so I didn’t say anything, just waited. Besides, we had practically talked all night. My throat was almost sore from laughing so much with him.

            “Do you want to come inside?” he said finally, slowly. He wasn’t meeting my gaze, and I began to wonder if that’s what he did when he was nervous: avoided eye-contact. He seemed to do that a lot. At least, around me.

            “What about your mom and Isaac?” I asked, even though I didn’t really care.

            “Mom won’t care. Isaac will probably care, but he always cares, because he’s always in my business,” he said. He didn’t even sound bitter, he just stated it like the simple truth. “Who knows, hopefully he’ll be in bed by now. I can probably get rid of him somehow.”

            “Well, if you really don’t mi—,” I began.

            “I really don’t mind,” he insisted, squeezing my hand. When my cheeks began to ache, I realized how much I had been smiling like a big goof. I dropped the smile and tried to look nonchalant.

            Jay tugged on my hand, and we began to walk up the path to his house. I couldn’t see it in the dark; the front porch light wasn’t on. It looked about the same size as mine and most others in this neighborhood, so I figured I wasn’t missing much.

            He reached into his front pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding mine, and pulled out a key. When the door was open, he carefully peeked his head inside, checking each way, our interlocked hands stretching my arm out as he stood inside and I stood outside. He suddenly dropped my hand, and stiffened as someone approached.

            “Jay? Who’s that with you?” I heard Isaac ask from inside.

            “It’s Hillary,” Jay said, nodding for me to come in. I quickly scurried inside and out of the cold. I quickly took in the room before turning to Isaac. The house was relatively dark, but I could tell that we currently stood in an entryway. Just beyond was a living room, with a dim light shining over a fireplace and mantle. A lone picture frame sat in the very center of the mantle, but I couldn’t tell what the picture was. There was a T.V., nothing fancy, and a black leather couch and wood flooring. There wasn’t a coffee table anywhere I could see, but there was a side table to the left, filled with empty cup glasses. To the right was a long, dark hallway. I couldn’t see past the first couple feet into it, but I could tell the hallway was rather long, almost like a corridor. It was completely dark to the left, so I couldn’t tell what was that way, but I assumed that would be the kitchen and dining room.

            Once I was done checking out what I could see, my eyes landed on Isaac. His hair was mussed up, probably from laying down, and he wore a pair of sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt. To my surprise, he wore a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. I guess he wore contacts usually. He stood behind the couch, almost to the entryway.

            “Hey, Hillary,” Isaac said hesitantly, as if I was about to yell at him or something. “Listen, I wanted to apologize for blowing you off earlier. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to ignore you, and I didn’t want to ignore Gabby, but I realize I should’ve spent time with you… so, sorry. Really.”

            I was so surprised, my mouth fell open. I could tell from his regretful expression that he really meant it. I shrugged offhandedly and offered a polite smile.