I wake up and look at the time on my phone. 5 a.m. I sigh and nimbly climb over Patric's sleeping figure. I slide into my clothes from the night before and press my lips to his temple. I grab a slip of paper and write a note on it in purple ink.
Patric, I love you with all of my heart. You're 18 now. Happy Birthday. I know I can no longer give you what you need so I'm letting you go. I truly love you. Please find someone that loves you as much as I do. -Sam
I set it on the one thing I know he'll check as soon as he wakes up. His phone. I silently slide out of the door and down the stairs. I turn the corner to head out the front door and cringe.
"Sam sweetheart. Where are you going so early in the morning?" Patric's father was an early riser. Every morning. I swish around and walk into the kitchen with him. His father is leaning against the island in the midst of the bright kitchen. I bite my lip and look over my shoulder at my only hope for escape before Patric wakes up.
"Hey Mr. Mann," I say leaning against the counter nonchalantly. I twirl a strand of hair in-between my fingers in an attempt to hide my nervousness. Patric's dad likes me more than his mom as much as they both like me. Mr. Mann sets a sturdy hand on mine and brings them down to the cool counter top.
"Sam. How many times have I told you to call me Scott?" he asks rhetorically. I already know the answer is a thousand times but for some reason I feel our last conversation I should be respective. I automatically know that he can tell something's up.
"What's wrong Sam?" he asks a bit worried this time. I sigh and look down at the floor. I can't hide it from his dad. He'll figure it out eventually. But I need to know that my choice is final.
"Today is Patric's 18th birthday. Today he's an official adult. While I'm still very much a juvenile. I'm leaving him. So he can go on to better things without needing to worry about me. Please don't try to change my mind," I say as stern as possible with my voice cracking.
"Okay," he says squeezing my hands for the final time. I sigh and go to leave before Patric gets up. But something is holding me back. I turn around and walk over to Patric's father. He's been more of a dad to me in these last few months then my own father has ever been. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close for the final time.
"Thank you," I rasp out. On the verge of tears I take a moment to be held for a moment. It seems like he knew exactly what I meant and ruffled my hair when I eventually let go. I look down at my phone. 6:10. The sun would be up any time now. With the sun Patric would follow not too much later.
I wave as I step out the front door. I don't look back as I make my way down the steps and the tears make their way down my face. I turn down the sidewalk and begin walking. Not anywhere in particular. Just not home. That would be the first place he checked when he woke up.
Sara's house flashes through my mind but that would be the next place he went. So I head for the only place I know we shared together but that he wouldn't remember.
I quickly make a sharp left and head for the college. More importantly the concert hall. My black converse are padding against the sidewalk as I make my way further away from the man I love and closer to the place we first met.
I drop by my house to grab a few things. I run to my room to find my earphones and my old skateboard. I run into the kitchen and open the freezer. I snatch the 2 liter of vodka and dash to the sidewalk.
I put my earphones in and plug them into my phone. I pull up my playlist of sad songs and put them in my ears, before I make way to the college. I propel myself forward time and time again. Pushing myself away from reality, away from feelings.
I finally pull up at a place I haven't been in a while. I don't care much where my skateboard lands as I kick it into the bushes. I slide into the open door and walk back into stage area. I unscrew the cap of the vodka as I pass the chair Patric was sitting in when I first saw him.
I push a strand of hair away from my face as I walk by the arch we danced under. I step through it and lean against the wall I tripped against him. I can almost feel his heat radiating from the spot. Yet I know it's just a memory.
I look down at the bottle of vodka in my hand as I slowly make my way backstage. I stand by the same door I had just walked out of when Patric first ran into me. When he gave me the gum. Now was a better time than ever to take a swig if my vodka. I'm now self-inflicted #friendzoned.
