The lies we accept

48 1 0
                                    

The late night wind nips at the boys ears and noses as they amble their way along the neighborhood streets of West Way. Eric would have offered to walk Jacob home but it had become such a routine part of their day, there was no need to constantly repeat a question. Their walk tonight was much more quiet, hardly a word uttered from either of them. Invisible tension churning in the space between them. Jacob had stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets minutes beforehand, picking at the fuzz coating the inside. He didn't do well with change and right now it felt like one had occurred. He was certain it wasn't in his head this time. 


    Their shoes connected quietly with the gravel under their feet. Neither boy uttered a word as they walked side by side, Eric taking great caution to avoid the cracks in the sidewalks; A usual habit. A large patch sprayed out across several slabs of concrete and Eric ran ahead, dancing and weaving in and out to the best of his ability. Narrowly missing one crack forced him to lose his balance and slam his foot into another. He frowned in dissatisfaction. 

Jacob looked over and shook his head, mustering up the courage to speak the first words this trip. "You always forget to go left after the second slab."

Eric looked back and upon seeing his friends dimly lit face under a nearby street lamp he smiled slightly. "Yeah..I get too excited I forget to pay attention."

"I know." Jacob chuckled. "You do this every time though, you'd think you'd learn at some point. Its not like we don't take this route every time we leave Bills."

"Yeah yeah." He rolls his eyes and turns back around, returning to his game. "Smartass." He mumbles under his breath, a smirk following closely behind it.

                                                                                 

                                                                               - - - - -



They turn onto his street in no time at all, the route memorized by both like the back of their hands. Passing by fence rows and sleeping guard dogs, they note that Mrs.Endues kitchen light is on much later than usual for a 62 year old single woman.

"I heard she's fostering a new kid this month." Jacob pipes up, looking in the direction of the kitchen window. "I think this one is younger than the rest but I don't know what age."

"How do you know that?" 

"I overheard my parents talking a few days ago, they don't really talk to me about that stuff but its not hard to find out. You know how they are." He shrugs, pulling his hoodie in tighter around his body. Eric nods in agreement, taking a final look across the street before side stepping Jacobs mailbox and continuing up the stone pathway through the yard.

The wind gradually picks up again and it send a shiver through through both boys. You could smell an upcoming rain shower from here. 

The porch light comes on as they walk closer, casting a yellow hue across the steps and front door.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Jacob grins in Eric's direction as he passes him and tramples up the steps taking two at a time. Unnecessary as there is only three total but Eric never corrects it. 

"Actually no, I'll be with my dad up in Clearwater for the weekend, remember?" His response is laced with upcoming boredom and outdated t.v shows that no-one cares to watch anymore yet still air at the same times each day without fail. Eric didn't find pleasure in spending time with his father but it was court ordered that he get him every other weekend. An arrangement he had no say in.

"Oh. That's right." His shoulders droop a little. "Man that blows. I planned to get us tickets to "Wasteland". It came out Thursday." Jacob frowns and forces the tip of his converse against the concrete, breaking apart small bits of mulch that had been blown across it earlier in the day. "It's alright though, we can just go Monday?" 

Eric doesn't need much time to think on it and quickly nods. "Yeah that sounds good. Lets try and get a show for later in the evening though, I'm not sure what time ill be back Monday."

Jacob nods in approval. "Yeah alright. Goodnight." He smiles at him and fishes his house key from his worn down jean pocket, struggling for a second to fit it into the lock.

"Cya later Chee, remember me okay?" Eric exclaims dramatically, walking backward with his hands over his heart. 

Jacob rolls his eyes but a small smile tugs at the edges of his lips. "Uh-huh. Get out of here dumbass." Both boys turn away and Eric heads back down the walkway while Jacob finally manages to fit the key. Pushing the door open quietly, he removes his shoes upon entry and sets them with care by the corner of the door. Yellow lighting spills across the carpet into the dark awaiting house.

"Hey Jacob?" Eric asks somewhat hesitantly from the edge of the driveway.

He peeks out of the remaining space between the door and the doorframe. "What now?" 

Eric tugs absentmindedly at the edges of his Rolling Stones t-shirt, avoiding eye contact for a brief moment before looking at him directly. "Uhm..the kiss earlier. It didn't mean anything, right?" Eric chooses his words carefully, studying his friend. He doesn't want to take a misstep. From this distance its difficult to gadge his expression but the porch light definitely helps.

 A pain explodes in Jacobs chest and for a split second it crosses his face.

  Why did that hurt? 

Of course it didn't mean anything. Why would it? Eric was just his best friend, absolutely nothing more to it. Yet, with the tug of war going on in his head he knew he couldn't just stand there and stare so he forced himself to laugh. It comes out dry.

"Haha yeah, it was just a stupid kiss for a game. Props to Bill for making it happen, I knew he was into that kind of stuff. Perv." What was he saying? He winced at his own words, kicking himself for rambling. 

Eric gives a dubious nod and chuckles. "Honestly. Cya Monday Man." With that he turns and begins his walk home.

"Cya Monday....man." Jacob replies quietly. He slowly shuts the front door, it clicking into place softly, and bites his bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Waves of anxiety and despair begin t o roll off his body like smoke and he hesitates for a moment before allowing himself to lean his head against the door frame. Silence filled the spaces between him again, the only sound audible was his own breathing and the wall clock his dad hug up last week in the living room.

Why did that hurt? Stuff like that's never gotten to him in the past. It usually just rolled off him. Easy, no mess. What changed? Was it because of the kiss? 

It had to have been. Nothing else had happened between then and now besides that. That damn fucking kiss that shouldn't have meant anything but it did. To him at least. 

Something warm runs down the ride of his face and he startles, bringing his hand up to his cheek to swat away whatever crossed into his bubble. His hand only comes back wet. He blinks and more warmth flows down across his face. 

Oh. 

He hadn't noticed he'd started crying. 

"Great. Real mature, Jacob." He mumbles to himself, frustrated at his actions. He lightly bumps his fist against the doorframe twice before parting with it, pausing to double check the locks and slips his copy of the house key back into his pocket. Maneuvering his way through the hallway and up the stairwell to his room, he balls the hoodie sleeve up in his hand and uses it to wipe his eyes, dampening his sleeves. Turning the knob to his room quietly, he side steps to enter and shuts it just as quietly behind him. Soft lighting from the drawn curtains pool in across the small room and stops just before his toes. Looking down at its edges, he sighs and crosses through it to the edge of his bed, kicking his shoes and pants off and sliding beneath the chilled comforter.

"It'll be fine." He thinks to himself. "No big deal."

Secrets we keep in bottlesWhere stories live. Discover now