The sun is beginning to set
when I reach the school;
behind it is displayed
a fiery show
of crimsons and ochres
and faded blues
as the sky prepares
for its descent
into night.
It makes the place look
much less hellish
on the outside
than it actually is
on the inside.
Matty's waiting on the front curb
as I pull up on my bike,
typing on her phone
with flying fingers.
She smiles at the screen
ever so slightly
half a second before
she catches sight of me -
and then she smiles even more.
"I walked,"
she points out as she
glances down at my bike.
"I don't live too far away."
"Should I leave this here?"
I ask as I dismount -
but she immediately
shakes her head.
"Better not risk it.
It's getting late, and
kids in this area probably
would be mean enough
to steal a bike
from an empty parking lot.
C'mon, we're not
going very far."
'Not very far' turns out to be
about a five minute walk
from our meeting place.
On the way, Matty
chatters to me
about her family -
her parents had left
with her older brother
for the temple they attended
only a short while ago.
They go on Saturdays,
she tells me,
because they both teach
at the local college
during the week,
and Sundays to them
are meant to be a day
at home with family.
As to why she
doesn't go with them,
she says only that they
don't like to force
their religion
on other people,
family included -
so her older sister
(who has rejected their beliefs),
herself
(who is, as of yet,
undecided on religion
as a whole),
and her younger brother
(who is too young to decide)
stay behind
on Saturdays.
At last, she stops
and announces that
we've arrived.
We're in front of a playground,
the kind that looks like
it's been around since
the 80's,
full of equipment with faded,
chipping paint
and rusty metal bars.
"This is where
I grew up,"
she tells me with a
wistful smile.
"I've been coming here
since I was little."
We end up sitting
on the swings,
gently swaying back and forth
as the chains
holding us to the bars above
creak in protest.
"I'll bet I can swing higher,"
she laughs
and begins to pump her legs
back and forth,
back and forth,
until she's high
in the sky
above me.
That's how I look at
people like Matty
and my mother
sometimes.
They know who they are
and what they're doing
and they're so self assured that
they just soar
over my head
and I have to look up
and squint
in order to find them.
They are such
kind, good people
that I am nowhere near
reaching their level.
And so, here I am,
stuck down on
the ground,
trying to find myself
in the shadows of
their brilliance.
"You're no fun,"
Matty calls down
after a few moments -
and when I still haven't
moved an inch,
she continues with:
"What's wrong,
Cam?"
"Why did you
bring me here?"
I ask,
rather than answer her.
"Is there something you
wanted to talk about?"
I think I may have
said that
a little more harshly than
I'd meant to -
because she suddenly
skids to a stop beside me,
her feet planted firmly
in the mulch
underfoot.
"Cam,
really,
what's going on?
I just wanted
to help
because you've seemed so
upset
and stressed out
over this thing with
your mom and grandma.
I mean,
I know I don't know you
all too well yet,
but...
This is the
only place
I could think of
to go."
Her expression slackens
as she adds,
"I want to help you -
I really do."
She doesn't sound
apologetic
and I'm glad
because I hadn't meant
to make her feel
guilty
for being such a good...
friend?
Are we friends?
I'd like to think so.
When I repeat the question
aloud
Matty just laughs
and swings sideways
so that she knocks into me
ever so slightly.
"Of course,"
she laughs,
as if it's
an obvious thing.
"What made you think
we're not?"
I don't know why,
but her nonchalance
in calling me her friend
when we've only just met
almost seemed erase
the years
of worse names
I've heard before now.
Matty's friend.
I could get used to that.
I could get used
to her,
so long as she continues
to smile
so brightly -
brightly enough
to blot out all
the shadows.
As her friend,
I think I could be
all right
for once.
"Now, come on,"
she says at last
to break the silence,
grinning at me once again.
"Swing with me.
I want to see
who can jump the furthest."
×
They're cute as hell, I swear - and yeah, they're my characters, but I'm allowed to say that without it being biased, right? Pfft, who cares.
If you guys liked this chapter, please feel free to vote and leave me some feedback below! It would be much appreciated! c:
YOU ARE READING
Misalignment | ✔
Teen Fiction"There are a million shades of grey between their black and their white - but no one ever cares to see them." In a world with a limited view of gender, Cam Shills struggles to come to terms with their identity as neither male nor female, a shade of...
