Seventeen

Chapter Thirteen: Heartboxing

It was Skylar who opened the door when I knocked at eleven PM, the rain pouring down like a curtain of silver threads. I stood there, drenched, clad in nothing but my boxers and a faded T-shirt, shivering as the chill seeped into my bones. Skylar appeared in plaid pajama pants and a white tank top, her hair a wild tangle that almost rivaled my own. She rubbed sleep from her eyes, stifling a yawn.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" she asked, her voice laced with irritation yet softened by concern.

I forced a nervous grin, teeth chattering. "Not late enough?"

"Geez, Andy, it's like eleven freaking PM! How is that not late enough?"

"Somebody misses her bed," I joked, trying to inject a bit of lightness into the thick tension hanging between us. Yet, inside, I felt as if the night air was wrapping around me like icy fingers, squeezing away my warmth. I could already feel the impending flu creeping in, but for tonight, I didn't care.

"You bet I do. So why are you here at this hour? Don't tell me you're looking for my brother. The loser hasn't left his room since Saturday."

"Why?" I tried to sound casual, but my voice trembled, revealing the storm brewing inside me. Had something happened to Aiden? Was he hiding in that room, ashamed, disgusted by what we had shared? My heart raced with a thousand thoughts, each one more painful than the last. "Can I talk to him?"

"I don't think that's a great idea," she replied, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Please?" I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Fine, but good luck getting him to open his door."

She led me into the dark, quiet house, and we climbed the stairs in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. When we reached his bedroom door, Skylar banged her fist against it with a force that echoed through the stillness. "Open the door, moron! Andy is here to see you!"

Silence hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I was prepared for this. "He's probably sleeping," I muttered, a bitter taste in my mouth. I knew better. He didn't want to talk to me.

"Probably," Skylar said, her voice softer now. "Maybe you should just go home. He'll talk when he's ready."

"Okay." But inside, I felt a tempest of emotions swirling. I wanted to pound on that door until my fists bled, to shout until my voice cracked, to scream out all the things I couldn't say-how I wanted to take his pain away, to share the burden he carried alone. I yearned to tell him about the dreams we could build together, the hopes waiting just beyond this moment. But all I could do was walk away, defeated.

---

After two hours of wrestling with my own thoughts, I finally decided to go to school. This time, the motivation wasn't about avoiding life; it was about the strange spark igniting within me, a flicker of happiness that felt almost foreign. I wanted to bask in its glow, to let it wash over me like the rain that had soaked my skin just hours before.

For once-perhaps for the last time-I slipped into a dress, pairing it with my trusty Vans and rainbow-colored socks, topped off with a cozy woolen sweater. I didn't care if I looked out of place; I felt like I was stepping into a new version of myself. Skipping breakfast, I walked to school alone, music coursing through my veins, breathing life into my weary spirit.

As I ambled along, I found myself smiling at the sun, its rays breaking through the clouds like a promise of brighter days. I even waved at the old man in the ice cream truck as he drove by, his smile infectious and warm.

With each step, I could feel the weight of my worries lifting, replaced by a sense of freedom I hadn't known in ages. I was changing, evolving, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. But deep down, I embraced it. I loved it like I had never loved anything before, a love that felt like a soft whisper in the chaos of my life.