Glass Houses Shouldn't Throw Stones

Chapter Five: The Game

"What game?" My curiosity got the best of me. I stared into Aaron's eyes and I saw something I'd rather die a thousand times before seeing again. His pale blue eyes were the color of the sea after a storm. They retreated from emerald green to this shade. They were fatigued, forlorn, and subdued by enmity. My eyes indulged on the sight with no idea of reality. I dove deeper into the depths where I caught he and I on a pirate ship thrown to the sharks at sea.

"Aurora! Aurora!"

My trance was over far too quickly. It was horrible to see such a beautiful person hurting. I barely knew him. What was I doing? I hated the idea of love. It was impractical. Boys don't fall for girls. Girls throw themselves at guys and latch them down. It'a all wrong. It's all appearances and the unforgivable mentions. People like Aaron don't end up with people like me. People like me are independent. Yet, it was too soon when the words slipped out of my mouth.

"Your eyes are so hurt...."

The boy with light brown licks gazed at me for a moment. "Yours are too. Mind sharing?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "No thank you."

"I lied. I heard your...dad? He was screaming. He looks old to be a dad."

I laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. "Let's play."

"So we have two bottles, right? I'll ask a question and then you answer it. Each time I think you are lying, you have to drink and vice versa. But we're going to need a really nasty drink.

I smiled, mischievously. "MARCIA! Can you bring up some soy sauce?"

Ten Minutes Later

"What's your favorite color?" He asked. I wanted to say your eyes, but instead I said green.

"Why?" He asked.

"Nope. My turn." I stated.

"What's yours?" I challenged.

"Gold." He said.

"That's not a color. It's a metallic."

"Whatever."

Again, he asked why. I told him there was a study that stated it was the color of genius.

"Huh interesting. Drink."

"Drink? It's the truth."

"I doubt that's the whole story." And so, the salt burned my tongue. Not like seawater, though.

"Why is gold your favorite color?"

"It's the color of your eyes." I blushed pink, and with my medium brown-tan skin, that was a big deal.

"Why was your dad screaming?" He interrogated with an edge to his voice.

"I messed up the laundry."

"Yikes. I get that."

"Your dad is brutal too and stays away from you?" I was surprised the words flew out of my mouth so quickly and without consideration.

"Yeah. It's alright though. I've got a nanny and a roof over my head."

Waves crashed against the shores where we could see land if we squinted. The island was small but it was a retreat from hopelessness.

"Anyway," he began. "What's your family like?"

"I've two older brothers and one younger. One is at University."

"Your mom?" He questioned.

"My turn. What about yours?" I challenged him.

"I have a younger brother and four older sisters."

"Mom?"

"My turn."

He, once again, asked about my mother.

"You see, she lives in this really remote country."

"Why?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Yours?"

"Great. She's a model in NYC."

"That sounds cool, for her. But you're lying."

He drank and I could tell it burned his throat like alcohol.

"Why are you so stressed out?" He asked.

"A number of reasons. You?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Why?"

"I can't say." He sighed again. This boy sure did an awful lot of sighing.

"Why are you in such advanced classes?" He asked.

"I'm not really sure. My dad and brothers are always riding my back about being smarter and being in higher classes to get into a better University. To be honest, I'd love to go to Yale or Harvard. But, I know I'm not good enough. 5% of applicants are good enough."

"You're good enough to me." He answered, kindly.

"What about you? AP Bio?"

"Yeah I have other AP classes too. It's the same with my parents. But we aren't really rich. We aren't poor either. But you know, I want to give my family a better life."

His phone blasted Call Me Maybe. "One second Aurora." He turned his back to me and cursed into the phone. "Alright, alright. Just ten minutes."

"What was that about?"

"My dad can't get my brother from Karate. I'll have to leave in ten."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I briskly modified the subject of speculation.

"A doctor. You?"

"A lawyer and politician. Don't laugh. What type of doctor?" I started laughing a lot. My stomach hurt. I rolled onto the floor and hit my head against the corner of my dresser. I didn't care. It was just so cliche. I could comprehend that Aaron was uncomfortable.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Do you realize how cliche this is? A lawyer and a doctor. Like the American dream's portrait family."

"Family?" He smirked.

"You know what I meant."

He checked his phone and then scrambled up. "I have to go get my brother from karate."

I nodded a noncommittal response and trailed down the stairs. He hugged me goodbye, jacket in hand. I watched from the bay window as he dashed to his little Ford Range Rover. I waved a last goodbye. Wednesday nights sucked.