little talks

[ 53 ]

I shuffled nervously under the dim porch lights, waiting for someone - anyone - to answer and let me in. No such luck.

Not wanting to be a nosy asshole, but still wanting to find Cooper, I snatched the hidden key from under the flowerpot, jamming it into the door. It opened slowly with a loud creak, and I winced at my lack of stealth. I stepped inside despite that.

"Um, Cooper?" I spoke softly, voice rising just above a whisper. 

There was no reply. 

The narrow hallway was in a hazardous state, shoes messily tossed to the side and coats beneath their hooks. A thin table held a stack of unopened mail and papers, some new-looking and others frayed around the edges. Did Cooper's dad even live with him? I didn't know. I never had. 

Shaking my head, I chased the thoughts away. Cooper. Find Cooper.

To be sure, I ran through the house, peeking my head into every room. I caught a glimpse of his bedroom, which declared itself to be the 'DUNGEON KEEPER'S LAIR'.

"Oh geez," I snorted, rolling my eyes. "I knew he lied to me when he said he wasn't into Dungeons and Dragons anymore."

With a timid push, the door slid away to reveal his room. 

My eyes widened at the wasteland before me.

Holes littered the walls, and I sucked in softly as I placed my fist in one of the many, just a smidgen bigger than my own fist. 

"What is that idiot doing?" My voice was a soft whisper, out of place in the middle of the angry mess that was Cooper's room. I shuffled out of there before I could see much more. He wasn't there. That was all I needed to know.

I didn't pay much mind to the rest of the house. I was certain no one was home. 

My gaze lingered in the kitchen, dancing over the pictures taped on his fridge. Every single one was ripped down the side, Cooper's young, smiling face plastered over all of them. 

It bothered me that there was some broken part of him I had never completely sensed. There was always something under the surface, I knew. But I wanted to pretend it hadn't been there, for him. I wanted him to feel like we could be friends and I wouldn't try to pry into his life. And I hadn't. 

Shaky legs guided me back to the front door, and I stumbled over one of Cooper's stray rain boots. I flailed to the floor like the klutz I am, arms waving madly in the process. 

The pile of papers toppled to the floor. 

"Shit." I muttered, righting myself in order to pick them up. 

Trying to go quickly, I shuffled each one together without a second thought. 

Until Cooper's face was staring into mine. 

He had a warm, welcoming smile stretched across his face - a stark contrast from the lost expression I was so used to seeing on his face. I realized with growing dismay that his eyes had never shined that much or seemed so blue. His rich, expensive clothes shocked me as well, and I pulled the picture closer to myself, trying to take in the impressive photography.

"What does it say?" I squinted my eyes, attempting to read the papyrus font at the bottom of the folded paper. 

Then I noticed the arm around his shoulder, and I ripped it open at a scary speed. 

Another Cooper stared back at me. 

I sat there for what seemed like hours, staring from one Cooper to the other.