A Compilation of My Soul

Trouble With Half Truths

"Hey Peter." He looks up from what I think is his calculus homework.

"Hey, Anna." I catch a glimpse of his paper, between long calculations he has chicken scratch words and piano chords.

"Whatcha doin'?" He keeps his eyes on his work, the pencil poised over the paper but frozen. He hesitated before continuing to scribble.

"New song for my band." I had almost forgotten he wrote all of the songs. I had gone to a benefit concert of his, supporting a friend with lymphoma. His band was alternative and had realm meaning in their songs. Meaning that came from the boy I sat next to.

"Mind if I look, or is it not ready for the public?" He shrugs, pushing the notebook closer to me. I internally played the chords on a mental piano, matching up the words going something like this-

LIKE THE SUN LEAVING BLACK SPOTS IN MY EYES

WHY CANT I GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD

I FELL FOR SOMEONE ELSE, OR SO I BELIEVE

NOW MY HEART IS SCREAMIN', SCREAMIN' CODE RED

"That's going to sound amazing. Are you using the chords as a bass line or-"

"Anna, I have a girlfriend." Peter grows pink in the cheeks, a flame that quickly grows spreading to the tips of his ears.

"Congratulations?" I lean back from him, quite confused by his out burst. The shadow of past feelings creeping up behind my heart, threating to pounce.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"Thought I still liked you?" He looks up at me, his eyes a mess of emotions that I couldn't explain.

"Well, yeah."

" 'Liked'. Emphasis on the past tense." Ouch, that was harsher that I intended and it hurt even more to see him recoil. "I know I sent you that note saying I liked you and really it was kinda stupid." Was that disappointment? I felt myself rush to explain. "It's just I had liked other guys before and later I found out they liked me but gave up because they didn't think I liked them. So, I told myself to not be a wuss and tell you." Breathe. "But I couldn't just walk up and tell you so I wrote a note and nothing really happened. You didn't seem interested and I just let it go." I shrug as if it was nothing, but that shadow was solidifying into something very real.

He started twirling his pencil, nearly dropping it and that's when I see the smallest tremor in his hands. He looks away from me, "So, you don't like me?" He looks back to me and I see a cracking wall that's showing me glimpses of the other side. Too bad all I'm seeing are fragments of riddles wrapped up in fog.

I couldn't look at him this time. Not brave. "No." The word is choked, but stable. Enough, stable enough.

He nods, the wall fully repaired. He looked down at his page again, seeming to really look at what he had written. With a deep breath he scratched his pencil over his work, obscuring them. "Oh, okay."