Unexpected Love (BOYXBOY)

chapter 9

"So what time do you have to be home?" Cody asked.

"It doesn't really matter. I'll call Ryan to come pick me up later," I said, trying not to sound too unenthused.

We were sitting on the bus together, riding to Cody's house. Ryan had convinced me to go over on Tuesday after school, and said to give him a call when I was ready to leave, and he'd come pick me up. Even though I'd agreed to go, I still wasn't happy about it. I could have spent the afternoon with my boyfriend instead of going over to some kid's house who I hardly even knew. I didn't see why it was such a big deal to make other friends, and part of me had started to think that maybe Ryan didn't want me hanging around him so much. Sometimes it really sucked to have little or no self-esteem.

Fortunately, Cody didn't try to engage me in much conversation until we had gotten off the bus, walked the five minutes from the bus stop, and were finally standing on the front steps of his house. It was quite a nice house, too, I had to admit. It was a two-story red-brick house with dark green shutters and two car garage. Based on the newly-planted saplings scattered all around the yard, I'd guessed it was a new house. The fact that it was in a new neighborhood was probably a dead giveaway, too.

"Well, this is it," he said cheerfully.

I managed a weak smile as he opened the door and led me inside. Expecting to find a "normal" house when I stepped through the door, I was surprised to see that there was hardly any furniture, at least not much in the bright, spacious living room. There was just a low, square coffee table surrounded by some mats, what looked like a futon, some Oriental-looking landscape paintings, and all hardwood floors. Not even a rug or anything. I certainly wasn't "Mr. Interior Design," but even I could tell this place was ... lacking.

As I was surveying the emptiness of the place, an extremely odd-looking woman came floating into the room. Not literally floating, of course, but it wasn't walking, or strolling, or striding, or anything like that ... she just kind of ... floated. She had long, frizzy brown hair, a tan, weather-beaten complexion, and a pointy face. She was wearing a long, flower pattern dress that covered her feet (maybe that's what made it look like she was floating), with layers of beads around her neck. She had a dreamy, spaced-out expression, and her eyes didn't really fix on anything until she floated over toward where Cody and I were standing at the entrance to the living room.

"Oooh, I see you have a new friend, Cody," she said in a heavily accented voice. Her eyes were still dancing around, not looking at anything in particular, which was starting to creep me out.

And then her eyes fixed suddenly on me.

"Hello, Cody's friend," she said in her thick accent. "You will learn when to let go, and when to fight. You are strong inside. Don't be afraid to be strong for others when the time comes."

She then plucked a flower out of her hair and stuck it in my curly locks.

"So pretty!" she gushed, clasping her hands together.

I just stared at her, open-mouthed, as she proceeded to float right on out of the room.

I turned to Cody with a questioning look on my face.

"That's my mom," he said, shrugging, his wide, toothy grin still shining brightly.

Cody then led me on a short tour of the house, which was all as sparsely decorated as the living room. I asked him about it, and his enigmatic reply was that "there is beauty in emptiness." I wasn't too sure what he meant by that, but I was certain that I'd never met anyone quite like Cody. After the brief tour, he led me down to his bedroom in the basement. I was surprised when I noticed that, for one, it was huge. He had practically the entire basement of the house to himself. Secondly, it wasn't decorated anything like the upstairs. For the most part, it looked like a normal teenaged boy's room.
 
He had a large futon in one corner that was folded out into a bed, a desk with a computer in another corner, a set of big bookcases that held a large number of books, a small television set, stereo system, and lots of framed photographs. He had posters of the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, and Jimi Hendrix all over the walls. On the far side of his bedroom, there was a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table, and a doorway that led to what I assumed was a bathroom, covered with a beaded curtain.