lonely hour

ava

i want to run.

my mom monitors me closely. she's been suspicious ever since that night, and every night after. but she doesn't stop me when i come home in the early morning, late night. it's become a habit, to lie. to lie about where i go, what i do, who i'm with.

i don't even know his name. the boy with galaxies in his eyes, and a cigarette in his lips. lana pressures me to ask, but i don't want to scare him off.

it's been a month, i've changed. i'm less concerned with how the world sees me, and more concerned with how i see the world. he's shown me things, told me secrets. i've found heaven on earth.

i think about these things when i walk, glancing at the sky for constellations to show him. tonight, clouds hang low, blocking the moon, and the stars. it makes the street darker, ominous. i quicken my pace, keeping the pattern.

when i see him, i take a deep breath, suddenly calm.

he's lingering in the shadows of a stop sign, waiting for me. a cigarette is already dangling between his tempting lips. his leg stops tapping the fast tempo when he sees me. as i draw closer, i notice two cigarettes snuffed under his shoe. my feet carry me to him briskly. i'm worried.

his arms open, and i fall into him. i'm surrounded by his embrace, closer than ever. he props his chin on my head, and i feel his adam's apple bob when he speaks.

"tell me something." desperation leaks into his voice. his hands shake against my coat.

my mind reels to come up with something. facts about constellations fly by my eyes, jumbling together. instead, i tell him about myself.

"my name's ava, i'll be eighteen in two weeks." i say shyly, then continue when i feel his unsteady breathing. "i work at a stupid vitamin shop after school, with terrible pay. but i need the money, for college, you know? i want to work at nasa, it's been my dream for as long as i can remember."

he chuckles faintly, like he's not surprised. i like the sound, and i snuggle my head in the curve of his neck. my words whisper against his skin.

"who are you?" i ask as a breeze whistles past. i'm not sure if he heard me. a minute passes, i wonder if i should ask again.

"my name's isaiah, i'm twenty." he doesn't say any more than that. i feel his hands slide up my spine, the pressure of his fingertips sending shivers through my body. despite the cold, i'm warm.

as much as i don't want to, i pull myself from the embrace. he follows me when i start walking, the limp being an indicator.

we saunter down the road, our usual way. i ask if he's okay, but he pretends not to hear me.

he lights another cigarette when we reach the intersection, squeezing his eyes shut as he sucks in the nicotine. his movements are rough, shaky. his eyes open when he releases smoke from the side of his lips. i look into them, but just like the sky, they're clouded.

his spindly fingers clutch the cigarette like it's his life force. i lean into him, watching him place it in his mouth. before he inhales, i pluck it from his lips. as i'm leaning on him, burning cigarette in my hand, i look into his troubled eyes. he reaches to take it back, pain showing through his expression.

without hesitation, i lift the cigarette to my own lips, breathing in the nicotine like I've seen him do countless times. it stings my throat, but i regret nothing. smoke pools from the openings in my mouth, being blown away with the wind. i take another breath, blowing the smoke into his face with a laugh.

he doesn't cough like i expect, but rather wraps his arms around my waist, pulling us against the lightpost. he's amused, like he usually is around me. either amused, or intrigued.

he holds me gently while i smoke his cigarette.