Once I double checked that my psychiatrist wasn't roming the halls, I went straight for the back door. If I went through the front, people would see and send people out with me. And theres nothing I live for more then my alone time. I practically leapt for the door, trying to avoid squeaking with the rubber bottoms of my boots. My hand was on the doorknob when a shorter person stepped between me and the door.
Shiloh. My favorite nurse. She was a silver-haired lady in her 60's, she wore velvet crewnecks practically 24/7, and she was always followed by a strong smell of rose jam and cinnamon. She was also usually smiling, unless I'm acting like what she likes to call a 'teenage dirtbag.' Such as now I suppose, judging by her hand-on-hip stance.
"I knew it seemed too easy" I whisper with a cringy grin, sliding my hands into my back pockets.
Shiloh chuckles, shaking her head. "If you wanted to go outside you could've came and found me instead of trying to sneak out. Again." Something about her aged wrinkles and her ruby red fingers stained from her rosary makes me want to not like her. She means well and I know that. I have to give her credit for controling my childish tantrums with all the grace in her short frame. And then suddenly I don't hate her anymore.
Theres no one around. Its a slow morning even for the staff. So much so that they won't even notice I'm gone. They won't bother to check.
"Please."
I don't know what else to say or how to ask her. There's not much to explain and nothing's wrong. My lungs need air that isn't masked with the smell of crackling fire or Altoid mint breaths. I need to get out and I need to get out bad.
She takes a step closer and takes her reading glasses off to let them hang around her neck on stringed pearls.
"Hard day?"
"I can't even tell anymore."
"And you promise you won't run?"
"I'm not even going to do much walking."
She pauses for a minute and looks at me questioning my validity. I hopelessly smile in attempt to sway her onto my side.
A sigh escapes her mouth as she wipes her hands on her white apron. "I won't tell if you won't." She opens the door and ushers me out. I rush along and turn around before she closes the door.
"Thank you."
~
I find my regular spot under the biggest evergreen and debate crawling under it where theres only a sheer layer of snow or sprawling out in the fresh pile where I stand. What the hell. I drop onto my back and let the flakes land and melt on my nose, forhead, and cheeks. I close my eyes and let them get caught on my eyelashes. I don't mind the cold thats nipping at my fingers and toes or the fact that I may look like a complete idiot. I feel sane for once in my life everytime I let this happen.
"Look I know I promised I wouldn't show up like a stalker, but I actually didn't follow you out here I just...had a hunch you'd be out here somewhere."
My eyelids jump open in response to the voice and I sit up, hugging my arms, not bothering to shake the snow out of my hair. For the second time today I sigh at the company of this one, except now for some reason I'm nervous. I'm never nervous.
"Tate," I scrunch my eyebrows and squint, adjusting to the bright sky. "How'd you get out here?"
He puts his hands in the pockets of his short, thick black trench coat. "I snuck out."
"You're kidding."
"No, I'm not kidding"
"You're going to get in so much trouble." I muffle, shaking my head at the doofus standing in front of me. After thinking about letting him stay or telling him to bail, I realize there's no point in pushing this kid away. Not if he's going to continue moping around me and spitting out wise yet snarky comments now and then. So, I cross my legs and put my hands in my lap.
Tate sheepishly walks up to my side and sits in the snow. He keeps his head down, drawing small intricate patterns in the snow with his index finger that I ever so strangely enjoyed observing.
"I needed to see you because I needed to say sorry. In a way I knew you'd listen." He says, switching my attention to his pale face.
"You barely got my name yesterday. You don't know that I'm going to listen." It felt like a sharp thing to say, but he didn't look phased.
He stays quiet, starting to convince me he's going to get back up and leave me. He doesn't, though. "I knew you well enough to know you'd be out here."
"Because I told you I needed to get out for fresh air."
"Can you shut up and let me apologize for scaring you away?" he teases my smartass tone. I stand down and let him take the floor. He huffs and takes a small piece of a juniper branch out of his pocket. The plants little arms branch out in a dark green, holding onto the clouded blue beads bunched up at the root. He shifts his body so he's sitting facing me and holds the branch out in front of him.
"Hi. I'm sorry for being an insensitive jackass. Please accept this last minute gift I got half way up this hill from a bush."
This combined with the straight face he managed to keep pushed the laughter out of me. Even if it was only for a quick second, it was enough to make Tate smile in return.
I take a handful of the fresh snow and toss it to the side. I see the usual group of people walking to school, staring at us and giggling amongst each other. If only I could hear whats going through their minds I'd be running through the gates to turn them into mini Frosties.
"This is stupid." I shakes my head, squinting my eyes at the girls as they disappear down the hill.
"I know. Maybe a bush branch isn't the best way to say sorry." Tate says sheepishly, twirling the branch between his fingers, his smile melting into a smirk.
I drop into the snow on my back releasing a grunt, my hands resting on my stomach. "No, Tate, you were right. Its about time I face the truth I've avoiding for so long. There's something wrong with all of us but we're so used to it being like this that we feel normal. They're out there feeling bad for us for being in here but we don't get it, because as far as we're concerned, we're normal."
The snow has slowed down and the air feels somewhat sweeter althought the sun is still a no-show. Tate straightens his legs out in the same direction as mine are and supports himself up with one elbow, still twirling the juniper in his fingers.
"We may not be normal but we're no worse than them. Theres nothing they can do that we can't. There isn't anything wrong with being a little mixed up." He says in a soft voice thats strangely relieving.
I look at Tate and sit up, smiling at the apology gift he's still presenting to me. I take it from his hand and wrap my fingers around it. Once he drops his hand, he looks up at me and smiles, once again revealing the domes in his cheeks and triggering a curl to slide into the center of his forehead.
"Thank you. A tree for a tree is just what I needed."
"I know."
