bridges [on hold]

viii. this kid

february 4, 2013

talking to "this kid"  is no longer a no-go.

mom went over to his house today. she brought me with her. i didn't want to go, but she threatened to take away this journal. turns out i do kinda enjoy writing in this… it helps, i guess. i just like being able to vent. 

anyway, mom dragged me over to the kid's house (not literally, i feel like i should point that out…) and she asked if they needed help unpacking boxes. they did.

the dad is really nice. he gave me and my mom lemonade. i don't really like lemonade, but i still thought it was nice so i drank it anyway. his name is david, and he wanted us to call him that. my mom did, but i stuck to mr. gray. he's a lawyer. he said his son, isaac, was in his room, and that he would go get him.

while mom and i were left in the kitchen alone for a couple minutes, she decided it would be the perfect time to have a heart-to-heart. it went something like this:

"try and be talkative. i really want you to make friends with this boy."

"mom…"

"i know it's hard, but you can't just hide yourself away from society forever."

"it's worked pretty well so far."

"diana. please."

"mom."

"diana, if you can't do this for yourself, do it for me."

"…"

"fine, then do it for petey. he would have wanted-"

"you don't know what he wants!"

"diana, calm down."

"you can't say anything about him!"

"diana."

"…"

"…"

"okay, fine."

mr. gray came back a minute later, followed closely by a boy who i assumed to be isaac. he was tall, really tall. probably around six feet. he had dark hair, and it didn't look like he had put any effort into styling it, which immediately made me like him. it gave off an aura of i-don't-really-care-how-i-look-right-now-because-i've-got-worse-things-on-my-mind. the loneliness i spotted earlier was still evident in his eyes, but only if you really looked for it. he did a really god job of masking it with that dimpled smile of his. i had a lot to learn from this kid. 

"diana, helena, this is my son isaac. isaac, this is diana and her mother helena. helena, would you like him to call you by your first name, or will mrs. archer do?" my mother smiled. "either is fine." mr. gray smiled too. "mrs. archer then." they both laughed, isaac cracked a smile, and i just stood there. "diana," my mother was addressing me now. "why don't you and isaac go and unpack boxes in his room?"

i didn't like the sound of that very much. what if isaac didn't want me in his room? one's room is their fortress. you can't just invade their castle out of the blue. lonely people, such as isaac and myself, are especially sensitive to this type of intrusion. but isaac just kept on smiling, and he said, "good idea, mrs. archer." he gestured for me to follow him and off we went, up the stairs and down the hall, into the last room on the left. 

isaac's room would've been really clean, had it not been for the stacks of boxes that seemed to pop up everywhere you looked. he set one on his bed and waved me over. upon looking inside the box, i discovered a very large collection of snow globes. each was individually wrapped in bubble wrap and tissue paper, taped up so none of the padding could fall off. "we can unwrap these. they just go on my bookcase." isaac said, and i just nodded.

we worked in silence for a while, until i came across a san diego snow globe, with the iconic bridge covered in tiny white  specks. "you've been here?" i held it up to show him, breaking our silence. he looked at it for a second before replying. "yeah. when i was twelve." i shook it, watching the white dust rearrange itself on the bridge. "i had a cross-country meet there one time. it was a fun trip." my favorite meet, actually, though i didn't offer this information. isaac glanced back at me as he placed a snow globe on the shelf. "you run?"

i nodded, then paused, reconsidering my answer. "i used to. do you?" isaac turned back to the shelf. "no, i  play baseball." i just nodded, not having a large interest in the sport. then he asked another question. "why'd you stop?" my breath caught. i panicked, and my brain had a split second to come up with an answer. i was glad isaac was faced the other way. "got hurt." now he turned around, and i messed with my hair a bit, avoiding his gaze to hide my crimson cheeks. "oh," he said, "that's too bad." i just nodded, and we kept on putting snow globes on the bookshelf.

the rest of our conversations was just pointless small talk. i don't think either of us were up for any real conversations. after forty five minutes of organizing snow globes and books and baseball trophies, our parents called us down. my mother explained that we were leaving, we said our goodbyes and they expressed their gratitude, and that was it. we left. my mom asked me how isaac was.

"he's nice." i said, and when mom pressed me for other details, it was all i could say. "he's nice, okay? he's just nice."

what was she expecting?

--

did you guys like isaac? he's my favorite character, omg. i know there's not a lot of stuff about him here, but just wait and see what else i have in store for him.

my sunburn hurts so bad. it's on my shoulders, my stomach, my arms, my thighs... kill me.

i'm kind of an idiot though, like i've lived here my entire life, i should know how to deal with this stuff. 

in other news, thank you for 150 reads!

also, question: do y'all like the longer or shorter chapters?

- kendall