The Recluse of Ocado Cove

Chapter 5

Dealing with the acceptance of my feelings was... difficult, to say the least. Sally and I had somewhat of a close bond now. We spent hours, days, sometimes nights together when we both couldn't sleep. We passed time running and biking around town, swimming in the river, listening to music, playing stupid board games... It had been so long since I had had an actual, true friend that actually enjoyed having me around. I never wanted to lose that.

It made me anxious. His laugh was like heaven to my ears. He could make the most boring days so much better. Every time I was caught staring for too long, I looked away. The stupidest actions, like his hand on my arm, drove me insane. I kept wondering if he knew how I was feeling. If I was making it that obvious.

I also caught myself wondering, once in a while, if there was any chance he could feel the same. It was probably asking too much to want someone you rescued from abandonment on an island to love you back.

Yeah. Too much to ask.

And there I was, lost in my thoughts during a social event, once again. We were eating dinner at the table– and by we, I mean, Lisa, Sally and I. He had stopped eating in the basement since my mom had found out about him. I think the two of them were chatting while I was gone God-knows-where in my head, because at some point, a sentence brought me back into the real world.

"You should come see the river on the boat, with us," my mom suggested, in between chewing her steak. "The weather's looking out to be pretty great tomorrow."

I looked at her, then at Sally as he answered.

He smiled at her. "That would actually be really nice."

It felt like he had always been part of our family. But not in a related-by-blood way. That would make things way too weird for me.

Lisa turned to me. "What do you think Larry ?"

"Oh, um," I rushed myself to reply, "I think it's a good idea."

She smiled at me. Then, we resumed eating, talking about everything and nothing. Sally and my mom found a shared interest in watching soccer games on tv. I started a joking argument when I stated that I didn't understand how they could watch people run after a ball for hours.

—

{ Suggested song : Desperado by The Eagles }

That night, I took a cold shower; I needed a distraction. I kept telling myself, again and again, that I would get over it eventually. It was just another stupid crush, right ? Adults get over their crushes. They have more important things to worry about, like... work, and money.

Those were really not things I wanted to focus on though.

Brushing my teeth, I stared back at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was starting to grow a little too long under my bellybutton; I needed to cut that crap soon. The more I looked at myself, the more I was reminded how I always fell for people who were out of my league. With a face like mine, it wasn't hard to be more good looking than me, but still.

It was a reminder that I didn't need, and would have never needed. I could have spent my entire life without it, and I would have been just fine.

A little too in my head again, my toothbrush slipped on the side of my teeth, scraping the very back of my cheek in the process. I brought my hand to the outside of my cheek, dropping my toothbrush in the process.

"Shit."

I walked into my bedroom. Everything was dark, the moon creating some light and shadows here and there. I fell onto my bed, groaning as I pulled the covers on my body. I was tired, and this time, I desperately hoped a good night of sleep would help me feel better.

I need to find something to put my focus into. I need to get back to painting. Yeah, I need to paint. That's what I need to do.

Turning onto my back, I stared at the ceiling. I noticed an abnormal sound, and instinctively associated it with an animal outside, or people walking by. I closed my eyes. But then, my ear caught a soft, broken sob.

"Sal ?"

I sat up. Simply calling his name couldn't do any harm. If he was asleep, he would just not give any response. Although that was the case, I could still see him, sitting up curved under the desk.

I stood up, going to crouch in front of the desk.

"Sal, you alright man ?"

He looked up at me, dried tears on his cheeks. I frowned, and he immediately wiped his eyes with my flannel that he was wearing.

"Yeah, I..." he whispered. "I just had a bad dream. Das all."

I gave a sad smile. "Ah, nightmares. Those are absolute motherfuckers."

He wiped his eyes again, looking away from me. I reached out, resting my hand on his knee.

"You wanna... talk about it ?" I suggested. "'Could make you feel better."

He sniffed. "I don't know..."

His voice sounded so weak, it was tearing me apart. I hesitated for a good minute before saying what I was about to say, out loud.

"Look, uh..." I began, my gaze furtive. "Come sit on the bed. You're really fuckin' cold."

He hesitated as well, before slowly moving to stand up. I stood as well, and we both went towards the bed. He slowly sat on the left side, and I shuffled to go beside him.

I tried to stop my dumb thoughts. I needed to help him out. It was nothing more than a friend helping out another friend.

I pulled the covers on him, slowly. He seemed to be breathing more easily now.

"I saw them... In my dreams..." he told me, still avoiding my gaze.

"Who's them ?" I questioned.

He seemed to have caught a chill. "The people who hurt me."

I pulled the covers all the way to his shoulders. Looking at him, I could tell he was on the verge of a panic. I put my hand on his arm.

"Hey... You... You don't have to say anything more, okay ? Just breathe."

He listened to me. He took deep breaths with me for a few minutes, until he ended up falling asleep against my shoulder. I carefully laid him down on the bed, leaving it for the small couch in the basement, outside of my room.

We never really spoke of it after, or ever.