Little Redhead (#OnceUponNow)

waning gibbous

"I'm starting to realize I dove headfirst into a black hole. Perhaps I'll change my mind and want to crawl back out. But once you're in, you're in. There's no escaping unscathed."

- Charlotte's Journal

September 15, 2016

~*~

Zev is rarely in school.

I first noticed this when I would see him in the morning – a cool, level nod in my direction – and then he would be gone by the time afternoon rolled around. I thought he only left school early because of free periods, but I quickly realized he cuts classes.

I hear from Zev sporadically, ever since those dizzying five minutes in the school's supply closet. There's a text message here or there, but we don't see each other outside of school until nearly two weeks after summer ended.

It's Friday night, and since my Mom worked the late shift all week, we've decided to watch a movie together. So when I get the message from Zev, I'm curled up on the sagging couch beside my Mom under the glow of Jurassic Park.

"wanna hang out?"

The words stare up at me from the tiny phone screen, held discreetly to my left side. I sneak a glance at Mom, but her eyes are beginning to droop. Her elbow presses against the arm of the couch and she rests her head in the palm of her hand. Even as the T-Rex on the TV screen gives a furious roar and its footfalls echo loudly through the speakers, her eyelids are still drifting shut. Would she really mind if I left?

But the thought is shoved aside as quickly as it comes. This is the first time all week that Mom and I have had a night to spend together, so leaving to be with Zev isn't an option.

I repeat this to myself mentally more than once as I reply to his message. "I can't, sorry. with my mom. maybe tomorrow?"

Setting the phone back down on the cushion beside me, I return my gaze to the TV – where Jeff Goldblum wields a red flare stick. I've seen this film too many times to pay close attention.

Twenty minutes later, Zev's response is only two words. "come downstairs (:"

I feel something dip in my gut, heart starting to beat just a little bit quicker, and I can't tell if it's a good feeling or not. Why does he have to show up without any warning?

And, despite my infuriating infatuation with him, I'm upset he didn't listen when I told him no.

A second message rings through, before I even have a chance to think of a response to the first. "hurry, babe!"

Normally, I would have ignored any instinct to leave. But I haven't seen Zev outside of school for weeks, and this is Zev. Not to mention he called me babe. How am I supposed to ignore this four-letter word that sends the blood rushing to my cheeks and burning beneath my skin?

So I stand from the couch and give my sleepy Mom some kind of poor excuse – that a friend is upset about something and I need to go comfort her. Maybe it's because she's so exhausted that she doesn't even mind shutting off the TV and heading to bed without me, but my Mom accepts the excuse easily.

Still, the guilt swims in my stomach like sour acid.

The early autumn night air is somewhat chilly, so I wear a denim jacket. Zev is waiting by the gate, leaning casually against the iron bars as he scrolls through his phone.

Zev greets me in an even tone and a smooth grin. "Hey, you. What took so long?"

I can't help but appear annoyed when I slip out of the gate and shut it behind me. My eyebrows are furrowed together slightly and the corners of my lips are pulled downwards. "Hey, Zev."

He leans close to me. "What's up beautiful? Why the long face?"

The words slip out before I can pretend everything is fine.

"Why did you just show up?" I ask, a note of hurt in my voice. "I told you I was busy and couldn't hang out."

"...I wanted to see you," Zev says slowly, as though it was obvious. "Didn't you want to see me?"

"That's not the point," I reply in exasperation. "I did want to see you. I just don't understand why you didn't listen to me."

Zev reaches out and holds my cheek then, palm cool against my skin, and I lose all train of thought. I feel the pad of his thumb beside my lips, and my knees go weak. Softly, he says, "Don't be upset." And then he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

I kiss him back, all the while pretending his lips are an apology I can accept.