Secrets we keep in bottles

A blunt would be nice

                                                                                      Eric
                                                                         -----------------------

His stomach churned again and he hastily rolled down the backseat window. If he was going to upchuck he at least was going to give himself a fighting chance at not getting it in the car. Having to smell what was brewing in his stomach all day would be a horrible way to start the day.

Groaning quietly, he pulled out his Walkman and slipped the headphones over his head. They were practically falling apart at this point but he intended to get as much use out of them as possible before breaking into his change jar again. That stuff didn't grow on trees. The mixtape Jacob had made him a year or two back rested inside, he always had it with him when Jacob wasn't. He pressed a button, rewound the tape and restarted the first track. "Every Breath You Take" began to fill his ears, slowly easing him into relaxation. He tapped his foot along to the beat, looking out the window at the passing scenery.

"Oh, cant you see you belong to me? How my poor heart aches, with every step you take?""

   Adults on skates raced down thin smoothed sidewalks, taking out anyone behind them if they were to trip. Teens and some older folk rest against sides of shops or benches smoking. This town always had a sort of fond homey feeling to it. No-one did much work to it aside from a paint job here and a new roof there. They did a good job at preserving the towns history. He imagined what it would be like to have stayed here growing up, what kinds of friends he would have made, things he would have experienced. 

"Every move you make, and every vow you break.."

Coming to a stop at a red light, he watches as what looks to be an older sister leading her younger sibling by the hand across the dulled striped walk way. Strands of her long red hair flow behind her, having wiggled loose from her hair tie along the way. He watches as she brushes them halfheartedly behind her pierced ears. The smaller one, maybe seven, skips beside her sister, her little pink shoes clacking against the pavement. The light jumps from red to bright green and they pull forward, passing safely beside the pair. 

   Mrs. Green doesn't glance up at the car as they pull left and pass her house. Her rose bushes were getting large, he notes. 

"Every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take.."

The words ping-ponged off the protective marrow casing in his chest. He had hoped for a much different response but of course he wouldn't get one. Jacob didn't like boys. It was foolish to entertain the idea that he might have felt the same way he did. He had almost mustered up the courage to ask Bill once weather or not Jacob had said anything related to the subject but he had chickened out and kept his mouth shut. Being open about those sorts of things, even to friends, could have deadly consequences in these times. Anyone whos involved got hurt, and usually by the neighborhood bullies. Poor Jacob got picked on more often than not and he wasn't even gay. The thought enraged him.

    He had denied his sexuality for a very long time over that fact but eventually forced himself to come to terms with it. He was what he was, he wasn't proud of it by a long shot but, he could live with it. A hard thing to do when you develop feelings for a boy, and that boy being your best friend. Swallowing those thoughts and emotions became a daily chore he was growing ever tired of.