Since You Came

Ch. 32.5

Dan's POV

The drive to Maddie's house was silent, but Dan's hand remained within hers, fingers laced together, the entire time. The warmth of her skin radiated into and through his own, and he could feel his heartbeat quicken, like it did anytime she touched him.

They pulled up to her house. In the late morning sun, the blueness of the paint seemed significantly lighter and newer, although Dan knew how old the house is. Maddie's relatives have lived there years longer than Dan has been in this city.

"Thanks for driving me," she said.

He felt a smile touch his lips. "My pleasure." they climbed out of the car and Maddie opened up her garage door.

"I'm assuming my family's already awake," she said. He followed her into the house. It was quiet. Maybe her relatives hadn't woken yet. It was only 8:50. "I'm gonna head upstairs to change, feel free to get a drink or something to eat while I'm gone."

Dan nodded and watched her perfect legs hoist her body up the stairs. She was so graceful, no matter what she was doing.

He walked into the living room and sat down quietly. He couldn't turn on the TV without waking up Maddie's sleeping family, so he decided to wander. He'd seen the inside of this house plenty of times before. He and Ryan were always at each other's houses.

He walked slowly around the main floor, surveying the many pictures on the walls. He snuck a look in every door he passed, imagining what it would look like alive with someone in there.

Dan brushed past another door. He knew what this door led to. Opening it, he looked inside, knowing exactly what he was going to see. The room was dark and narrow; it only consisted of a staircase leading down into the ground. He recognized the smell, he'd been down these stairs countless times.

The light switch for the narrow staircase was on the wall right beside the door. His fingers were shaking when he hit the switch, illuminating his surroundings. He descended the stairs. There, to the right of the bottom of the staircase, was the fusbol table, as he knew it would it. And to the left, the large couch that faced the flat screen TV he had spent many hours in front of. He slipped past the fusbol table and stared at a door across the room. The door was closed, as it normally was. If he hadn't known any better, Dan wouldn't have been able to see any difference in the door than what he was familiar with. But the closed door was eerie and sparked a sharp, painful burning in his chest.

The metal of the doorknob was cold against his hand. He turned it slowly. Regret seeped into him just as slow. The room before him was dimly lit from the window it contained. The smell was just as he remembered; so much like the person who lived here. There was the twin bed with the blue comforter. The red beanbag against the wall. The high shelf above the beanbag, displaying many dusty trophies, all of which Dan knew about.

He hadn't been in this room since before Ryan's death. But he remembered his last night here, and it began playing over in his mind, taunting him, as he flicked the light switch and walked into the room.

He saw himself sitting on the edge of the bed. He saw Ryan, as he was almost a year ago, and as he should be right now, seated in the beanbag. Ryan's hair was tousled more than usual. But why shouldn't it be? After all, the last time Dan was in this room with him was late at night, when Maddie had no idea he was over.

Dan had come over after most of Ryan's family was asleep. Of course Mr. and Mrs. Thompson knew he was coming, he ran everything through them. They knew as much about him as Ryan did. They were the perfect image of parents that Dan had always wanted.

The image of Ryan in the beanbag played consistently over his eyes. It was torture. Everything about it was too familiar. Ryan's expression as he spoke to him, the one he only wore when he was deep in thought. His relaxed, yet firm form as he sat curled on the bag, shirtless because he never slept with a shirt on. These things that only a best friend would know.