Greenline

4

Thursday, January 28th. 3:00 pm.

Isaac's house was intimidating at first, a mini-mansion hidden between high evergreens that caught every breeze and wavered like fingers around the enormous structure. It had an enormous yard to match, the lawn manicured excessively flat until leaves and brush broke the artificial borders.

It seemed to swallow Isaac whole when he snagged my wrist and tore me in through the front door and across a large hallway, shouting out greetings that echoed off tall grey walls in an empty house. He did not let me feel uneasy as he flailed his thin frame out to exclaim ownership of his territory. I raced through the house behind him, a bit afraid of getting lost as he turned a crown-molded corner.

Complaints of his days spent alone felt deeper than what his light tongue lavished me with the tale of a battle won in the newest first-person-shooter game that I couldn't even get through the trial levels of. He moved too fast for me to ever question it further, launching into an explanation about how he'd been allowed to pick the grey-wood-stain for the giant second-story deck he tugged me onto.

It was simple to let him tear me away to waste the afternoon laid out on the woven lawn chairs. When we were together, we talked about anything and everything. It never took any effort. We were never blatantly trying to get to know one another. Things just came out, whether they were overly personal or just surface details.

Through a blurted revelation of a beloved book series that we found we both had interest in, we had fallen onto the topic of relationships. It first had been about the pairings we liked in the books, and Isaac had commented offhand about living vicariously through the characters.

"I know what it feels like, I mean, at least how it's described," he had said, looking in front of him like he saw an entire world that I didn't have the privilege of admiring. "But I've never been with someone."

"That's not a bad thing," I replied with a shrug, relating well with the twist that had stolen his flat brow. "It's not surprising."

That had been my first mistake of the afternoon, and most likely of our friendship. The early birds of winter sang and split the air between us. When I looked to him to find the source of his silence, I was met with a glare.

"Why isn't it surprising?" He asked harshly. I knew he was mad and struggled to find the words to calm him down, but he took my gaped-mouth silence as another insult. "Why, Ethan?"

"B-because," I spluttered nervously. "I-I mean-"

Isaac scoffed, pushing himself up from the lounge seat. It was the first time I'd ever seen fury on his face as he spat at me."Because I'm sick, right? Because of that, I'm not allowed to be with someone? Because no one ever wants to be with the sick kid."

He was beyond angry but I supposed he had every right to be. "Isaac, that's not what I meant," I started, approaching him as if he was brandishing a sword.

"What did you mean, then?"

His question caught me off guard, and that was one of the first times I realized that sometimes I was capable of being in the wrong. Because I knew what I had meant; somewhere deep down inside of me, I saw him as too fragile to be toying with things like desire. And I was sorry for it as soon as I realized my own faults in my thinking.

"That's why you haven't asked me out, right?" He sneered, surprising me again. I didn't realize he knew how I was starting to feel about him, the glances I gave that I thought had been subtle, the times I failed to suppress giggles over the phone. "The sick kid couldn't possibly have a fling."

I frowned deeply, over-worn corners of my mouth strained. "That's because I don't want to just have a 'fling' with you!" I shouted in an attempt to diffuse the situation before I even realized what words had left my mouth.

He finally stopped berating me and looked at me with wide brown eyes. Something new bounced within them: shock. My stomach flipped and my hands began to tingle - I'd been able to stop those before, when I was alone at home, in bed and trying not to gush over his newest text-drop of memes. My lungs fought me, but I knew I couldn't stop speaking then. "I haven't asked you out because I've been too god damn nervous to ask you out, okay? You make it hard for me to breathe and you don't even try. I don't know if I could handle it if you said no.

"And you're right, you're not too fragile. It's wrong of me, or-or anyone else to think that. Okay? I'm sorry." I finished.

He stared at me blankly for a while and it set my nerves on fire. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until he smiled and I released a sigh. "So, was that your really horrible way of asking me out?"

I had my hand on the back of my neck, scratching it sheepishly. "Only if you say yes," I mumbled.

Isaac threw his head back and laughed, stepping closer to me. "Yes," he whispered before planting his lips on mine.

I was stunned. I had been kissed before, but I'd never been kissed before. I could tell by how shaky he was that Isaac was unsure of what he was doing, but I fell against him like it was all I'd ever known.

When we separated, he held me close and kept his eyes closed. I smirked, trying and failing to keep my ego in check. "Was that your first kiss?" I spoke softly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

His nose crinkled. "Shut up, Ethan."

That was my answer, and I couldn't fight the smirk forming on my lips. "Got it."