bathroom stalls » mileven

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he pulled her hand, rushing them down the hallway.

"mike," el whispered, pulling back. he dragged her into the girl's bathroom, locking the door. "mike, not supposed to be here," she continued, pointing to him.

"it's okay," mike said, opening his backpack.

"no trouble?" she asked. el was still confused about the world they lived in. she understood breaking the rules. she didn't understand why people broke the rules, only that sometimes they did it to escape someone or something bad.

"i'm going to teach you something." el stared expectantly at mike, not comprehending what he said. he sighed. "i'm going to help you understand feelings."

"like happy? sad? angry?" el asked, confusedly looking around the bathroom.

"yeah, but there's more to happy and sad and angry. it's a whole spectrum, like the colors. there's red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, but in between, there's also teal and lavender and salmon. there's more to feelings than what meets the eye," mike expressed. he held out a sharpie and wrapped el's fingers around it. he took out another sharpie and led her inside the handicapped stall to the wall.

"mike," el said, disbelief and amusement tainting her voice, "this is a bathroom."

"a bathroom is not a bathroom. here." mike messily wrote on the wall.

el peered at his words and started to slowly read it aloud. "the air is full of things we never say."

"as people with complex layers and thoughts, we don't say our feelings for a number of reasons," mike said, explaining the quote.

"why?" el asked, drawing a heart next to the words. it looked like a deformed 3.

"i don't know, maybe we're scared of our feelings," mike said, not realizing that maybe, in that moment, he was speaking about his own feelings.

"maybe we don't," el paused suddenly, stumbling over the word, "want to have feelings." she capped her marker with a sigh.

"maybe it's easier to deny they don't exist," mike finished, staring at the wall.

"i like this," el said. together, they stared at the bathroom.

"it'll be good. every day for the rest of the school year, we will come in at lunch and write something on each of the tiles."

"quotes."

"yeah, quotes."

"mike," el murmured, turning to face him.

"yeah?"

"thank you."

mike blushed. "we'll be bathroom vandals."

"vandals?" el questioningly asked.

"ohhh, um, vandals, i guess, destroy property. like when they draw on it."

"is that bad?"

"sometimes, but sometimes, they can be done for a good cause. like, it's hard to explain," mike flustered.

el nodded, softly humming. "will we run out of room?"

"tiles?" mike asked; el nodded. "no, i don't think so. there's something like only a hundred days of school left, and there are a lot of tiles in here. relax, el, it'll be fine. if we do get in trouble, i'll take the blame for you."

"why are you doing this?" el quietly asked.

"because everyone deserves a chance to speak all of their unsaid feelings. including me and you."