The Untouchables

Chapter 4 -- Unexplored Territory

The next morning, Thursday, I woke up feeling, well, different. It was a subtle difference, almost as if the weight of the humidity in the air had lifted. It was a good day for a run.
I loved running, though it could sometimes be incredibly painful. I had started doing it back when I kicked all of the unhealthy things in my life (poisonous friends, boys, partying, I could go on). My therapist had suggested running to keep my spirits up. At first it didn't go too well; I had to walk four times in 2 miles, but the reward was eventually worth it. By May I could run a good 3 and a half miles. After a long run I always felt cleansed, tired, but cleansed.
I got dressed quickly, finishing off my color coordinated outfit with a purple Lululemon headband. I had a couple of pieces of toast with jam for breakfast, checking my phone as I ate. Just before of left, I stretched and did some core workouts in the living room, then I was all set to leave.
I speed walked to Central park, and soon began running along my usual path. For some reason, I had decided not to bring my music with me, so I tried to focus on the calming sounds of nature, in other words, lots of horns honking, a garbage truck crushing its contents, and some sirens in the distance. These sounds, no matter how annoying they seem from an outside perspective, had always calmed me down. They were the sounds of my home.
Normally, when I was running, my thoughts tended not to be focused on anything except  for the lyrics coming through my headphones, but I didn't have that to fall back on. It had been quite a while since I had run without music, but it felt good. For the most part, I was able to tune everything out, only focus on my pace and my surroundings, but about halfway through the run, I remembered exactly the thing I had subconsciously been trying so hard to avoid thinking about. Zach.
I began to remember certain details about our outing the day before that I didn't realized I had noticed. The image of his hand reaching for a fry. The ever so tiny creases surrounding his eyelids when he smiled. The way his body shook when he laughed. All things that could identify anyone, but they felt so specific. Even his teeth stood out in my memory.
I spent so long playing these images back in my head, I hadn't noticed that I had finished running the entire circumference of the pathway.
When I slowed to a walk, I caught myself smiling. I tried to slow my breathing down, but it sped up. My body was practically vibrating. It wouldn't stop, even when I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles became a shade lighter.  It felt as though something had electrocuted me;someone had electrocuted me.
I wouldn't let what happened before happen again. I wouldn't let my life be taken over by someone else for a second time.
The shower I took when I got back home was the only way to make the dangerous feeling stop.
I tried to stay in the shower for as long as possible, but my thoughts kept reeling as long as I had nothing to do. I couldn't understand; Zach was just a boy. A dimpled boy whom I had already seen half naked, I couldn't help but add, remembering the previous morning.
I forced my shaking hand to shut off the water. The cold air hit my skin sharply as I stepped onto the mat outside of the tub. I grabbed my bathrobe to wrap around my body, and another towel to twist into my hair.
For a while I just stood there, unsure of my next move.
I decided that music would do some good. On the speaker in the bathroom, I began to play the radio. As I sang along, I walked over to the bathroom sink. The clouded mirror seemed ominous. I decided not to wipe it off, for fear of seeing something I didn't want to.
The song on the radio ended and the announcer began a segment about "celebrity fails and nails." I couldn't bear to listen to it. The way people could just hinge onto other's misfortunes, judge people as if they knew the person they were talking about, was a completely sick idea to me.
The way I had been feeling dissipated in a single instant. I wiped away the misty covering on the mirror in front of me. I looked long and hard at my neatly threaded eyebrows, my monogrammed bathrobe, my perfectly manicured fingers. I didn't feel bad about any of it; I liked it.
I had so easily forgotten about who Zach was, who I was. Polar opposites. But I had to remember. All I had to do for two weeks was accomodate him, make him feel at home with that plastic-y grin I had donned. We didn't even have to be friends.
I wouldn't have a repeat of before. I couldn't.
I pulled the towel from my head. Glossy, wet curls of dark hair fell across my shoulders and to my back. I quickly combed them through and pulled each strand into a french braid along my spine. I slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with lace at the bottom hem.
I exited the bathroom, leaving behind what I had washed away.
The smell of something good wafted up to my nose. I found myself in the kitchen, where my mother was cooking fresh pancakes.
Without thinking about it, I pressed my shoulders back and pasted a smile onto my lips. "Good morning," I greeted both my mother and Claire, who was sitting at the counter drinking some juice.
"That it is," Claire replied kindly, taking another sip of her morning refresher. I could hardly say I agreed.
"How has your stay been, Claire? I barely saw you for five minutes yesterday evening," I said. My attempt at conversation would hopefully make this morning more interesting.
"I've found myself really loving the city. I don't know why on earth I haven't already been here," she laughed at her comment and I joined in.
"It's because you have too much Harlow pride," my mother chimed in, also laughing. I could hear her accent returning slightly. It was fascinating how Claire affected her, brought a light into her eyes.
Next to my mother was a plate of pancakes. I grabbed a few of them with my bare hand and ate them quickly. "Thanks mom, you're the best," I sped through my words, still with some food in my mouth, and briskly walked up to my room. I could hear the two women begin to laugh behind me.
I was still in the mindset of my impromptu exit when I saw Zach come out of his room. Again, he was in his boxers, but this time I could easily brush off any unwanted thoughts. "Where are you going dressed like that," I jokingly commented on his indecent state.
He shrugged lazily. "The toilet," his scratchy voice cut through the air with the hint of having spoken for the first time that day. A slight nagging started in the very back of my mind.
"There's a faster way, follow me," I thought back to my younger days. My friends and I would always play hide and seek in a secret passageway in what was now Zach's residence for two weeks.
Zach's blank expression was all the incentive I needed to walk into his room.
"Hey, what are you doing?" he asked harshly, barely turning to register what had happened.
"Calm down, I'm just going to show you something."
Zach didn't say anything more. He followed me into the room, probably against his better judgment.
The room was surprisingly clean, apart from the unmade bed, but he had just woken up so it was forgivable. The rest of the room showed almost no trace that he had been in it for the past two nights. No clothes, no shoes, no jackets, nothing. I had expected everything to be carelessly piled up in some corner of the room.
I reached for the doorknob of the closet. "Hey!" Zach objected. He put his hand in the door, reaching around me in the process. His chest was just barely brushing against my arm. "Sorry," he muttered, pulling away quickly.
I sucked in a shaky breath. Biting my tongue, I screamed at myself to shut up inside. For the past few months, boys had been associated with pain and I needed that to be the case once again, but all the courage I had built up just 15 minutes ago was collapsing in a matter of seconds. The worst part was, it was only because of an arm.
Zach glared at me, but at the same time gave me a look of assurance. With what I had hoped was his permission, I hesitantly pulled the door open.
The long row of mostly faded t-shirts were hung along the top of the closet. He had only two ratty pairs of shoes on the floor, and a few of pairs of pants folded on top of the set of drawers. I suddenly felt so ashamed. He didn't want me to come into the closet and see how old and grayed all of his possessions were. His closet was so empty and dark compared to mine, which was filled in every little space with some sort of clothing or shiny, new accessory. At least his closet was a reminder of our differences.
I pushed past the cotton fabric and walked further into the closet. I could feel the warmth of Zach's body pause behind me, then follow me once he was sure of himself. Though I was facing the innermost part of the closet, I became acutely aware of how close Zach's skin was to mine. His hot breath fell onto my neck, but somehow I had goosebumps.
Only a few feet further a cold, metal door stood in front of me. Again, I reached for the doorknob and turned it.
Somehow I had expected to be transformed into a magical universe like Narnia, but what lie behind the door was only the darkness of a passageway that had not been used for so many years. I found the light switch next to the door. Once illuminated, the tiny stairway regained its familiar affection from my childhood.
I took a step in and smiled at the feelings coursing through my body. I had, after all, found myself in another world. In this new, yet so familiar, place, my mind omitted Zach's presence all together. I felt a newfound energy, which I used to propel myself down the spiral steps. My fingers glided across the wood paneling. Every little crack and crevice was a secret that I could keep to myself. I left my hand on the wall until I was sure I had found the old, loose panel.
So much had changed since I had last been in that stairway, I even had to kneel to get into the panel. Using my long nails, careful not to ruin them, I jiggled the wood out from its place in the wall. The cloud of dust that exploded from it was all the proof I needed, to know that not even the cleaning ladies had found the hole as I had left it more than ten years ago. I swatted the dust out of my face and reached into the ancient-seeming opening. I wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since its last use, which tugged at my heartstrings a bit. It was sad to me how kids could just lose what they were once so in love with, all their innocence gone in a matter of years. My hand blindly reached into the dark hole in the wall. I shivered when I touched a group of cobwebs and retracted my hand.
"What is it?" Zach said. His words were the first to echo around the passage in years, and somehow they fit perfectly.
"There are a lot of cobwebs in there," I replied, guilty of how predictable my reaction was. I felt like I had something to prove to Zach, and maybe even to myself. I didn't want to be the weak one anymore.
"Here, I'll get whatever's in there," he offered.
"No, I can do it," I wouldn't take no for an answer. I turned on the flashlight from my phone and began stringing out the mess inside of the hole in the wall. Several clouds of dust came with every sweep of cobweb until I finally reached the treasures inside.
My heart sped up suddenly. I remembered the letters I had gotten from Zoe in first grade. We really had come a long way. When I pulled the letters out, more dust puffed around the air.
"What are those?" he asked.
"Old letters from my elementary school lover," I reminisced. They were horribly written. I could barely even read or write at that age, but the letters had still meant so much to me at the time. Love was much simpler back then. "I luv you like mommy," I read one of my favorites aloud. Zach gave a sort of sputtered laugh next to me.
I read a few more and we laughed at every single one. All of them were spelled horribly wrong, and in terrible handwriting.
Probably 15 minutes had passed when Zach was reminded of his human urges. "This was great and all, but I've really got to go to the loo," he said. I absolutely couldn't stop myself from laughing. The bathroom was already funny enough, calling it the "loo" couldn't possibly be taken seriously. Zach rolled his eyes at me, though a grin was wide on his face. "Seriously, it's just a word."
Zach stood up, but didn't move from his spot. I joined him. "The bathroom is through the door at the bottom of the stairs. It lets out in another closet," I told him.
That was where we would part ways for the morning. I turned up the stairs as he thanked me. Going back into his closet, I couldn't help but think that I hadn't showed this passageway to anyone since Sean. I had just shared so much with someone I had only known for two days. The passageway, the bedroom, had Zach taken them from me, or had I simply given them up?
As I walked out of Zach's room, I saw Claire coming from her breakfast. I saw something flicker in her eyes, and a somewhat condescending smile encroached her face. She said nothing, only her smile acknowledged my presence. I smiled back, genuinely. Somehow the tables had turned.
I closed my door, and suddenly, Claire's strange behavior became so obvious. In that instant, I became very conscious of every little movement I made. I felt like I had been made of cement. Everything was weighed down. This feeling was so familiar, too familiar. I was once again reminded of the girl that I had been running from for so many months.

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K so, I'm not sure about how I feel about this chapter, but the next one is very interesting, so I implore you to keep reading.  Also, sorry I didn't update yesterday. I've been really busy because of finals, also I just really didn't like this chapter so editing was a pain in the ass.

Thanks so much for reading this. I really, genuinely appreciate your support. Please spread the word about my book, to have more people read it  would mean the world to me.