Open Eyes (Phan)

Thirty

Phil

He's different.

I don't know how. I can't place my finger on it. But somehow, I know he's different.

I can't even decide if it's bad or good. He isn't smiling more or anything, but he hasn't hidden in a room for hours on end. And it's driving me nuts.

When Dan entered the house later that night after being gone for over four hours, he was acting as though nothing had happened. Other than apologizing to my family for freaking out and running out, he had thrown it in the past and left it there.

My family, not knowing any better, believed Dan when he said that he just had issues with new people. And while it wasn't a lie, I knew it wasn't the full truth. I knew there was something he wasn't telling me. Something he was hiding.

Dan and I slept in the same bed.

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp.

He was quiet as he folded back the plain white duvet and got into the bed. His eyes stared at the ceiling blankly.

"Dan."

He turns his head to look at me. His eyes are dark in the poorly lit room. They are dark and intense.

"What wrong?" I ask him.

"Nothing," He says quietly. "Why?"

"No reason. You just seem... off."

"What do you mean?" He asks. He props himself up on one elbow. He is calm. Collected. And looking me in the eye.

His characteristically shaky hands are nowhere to be found.

Something was seriously wrong with him.

"I don't know," I admit. I climb into the bed next to him. "You just do. Are you sure you're okay?"

He nods, still watching me. I can't read his expression.

"Where'd you go today?"

He shrugs. "I just found a little coffee shop and sat there."

"For four hours?"

"Yeah." He says it as if it's the most obvious thing.

I want to believe him. So fucking badly.

But I don't.

The next morning, Dan and I wake to the sound of voices coming from downstairs. And the smell of something cooking. Rubbing sleep from my eyes and admiring Dan's disastrous hair, I lead the way down the stairs.

My mum is in the middle of preparing breakfast when we enter the kitchen. Everyone is gathered around the room, talking and laughing.

"Well, good morning, boys!" She greets us cheerfully. I give her a warm smile.

"Good morning, mum."

I try to be involved with my family. I try to listen as Martyn talks about his new job and I try to pay attention to the food I'm shoving in my mouth.

But most of my attention is on the chestnut haired, chocolate eyed boy sitting next to me.

He isn't really eating. More like pushing the food around his plate with a fork. He's staring at the ceramic, lost in thought. Stuck in his own world. I want to pull him out.

When breakfast is over, Dan politely excuses himself, saying he's going for a walk, and then leaves.

I desperately want to go after him. To find out what's going on with him.

But my feet won't move from where they've been stapled to the floor.

I try not to think about him. I try so hard to focus on anything but Dan.

I spend time with Martyn. We play several rounds of Mario Kart, and I help my mum bake cookies, even though she's already made seven batches.

I think I even succeed in forgetting about Dan for a while. That is until the old clock on the wall in the lounge hits two in the afternoon. Because at this point he has been gone for five and a half hours.

And just when I'm about ready to pull my phone out of the back pocket of my skinny jeans, he walks in the front door.

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Sorry it's so short. I really don't have an excuse.
-TrucePhan