Someone Willing to Stay

Romeo And Juliet

     "Do we have to do this? Can't we just finish it before class? Let's go on the water." Dylan is hanging off of my bed upside down, frowning as I dig through my backpack for a pencil.
     "It's just a book report," I roll my eyes at his antics, "Which we get to partner on. It'll take an hour at most."
     "An hour of my life wasted!" He grumbles dramatically, rolling over so he's laying on his stomach. His bleach blonde hair falls into eyes and he blows it away, he's refused to cut his hair for the past three months, he calls it a movement of freedom. I know he just wants to hide the blob shaped birthmark on the left of his forehead.
He's tall and built, he's been surfing since he was four. Even though his round face doesn't match up with his skinny figure, he doesn't care much. He just wants to surf.
"Oh shut up, get down here and help me."
He sighs heavily and rolls off of the bed onto the floor next to me.
He always sits too close, but that's just because he knows no boundaries. He's always pushing, never stops moving. That's just who he is.
"Romeo and Juliet," I say, "who's the author?"
"Shakespeare." Dylan answers.
"The setting?"
"Italy in the 1800's."
"Characters?"
Dylan pauses, "Um, Romeo. And Juliet?"
I roll my eyes, "Plot."
He looks at me, "A forbidden romance."
I write everything down as he answers me, we both agreed I have the nearest handwriting. His is nearly illegible.
"How does this book relate to your life? You got a secret lover, Romeo?" I mock Dylan with a smile, punching his shoulder.
His happy mood is gone as he looks at me.
I frown, "You okay? I was just kidding."
"I'm in love with someone I can't have."
"What?"
We're fourteen. We don't know what love is. We know how to predict which waves are the best, we know when Mrs. Johnson's going to assign homework, we know when we can get free ice cream at the diner down the street. But we can't be in love.
"Be serious." I tell him.
"I am." He tells me.
I look at him, scrutinizing every detail of his face. I can tell when he's lying, and he's dead serious.
"Who? Why didn't you tell me?"
Now I'm upset. We tell each other everything. How could he keep something this serious from me?
"You wouldn't understand."
"What," I exclaim, "I'm your best friend, if anyone can understand, it's me-"
And then he's leaning in.
I see his lips approaching mine in slow motion, his eyes are closed.
I push him away and jump up, "What the hell?"
He's sitting on the ground, tears welling up in his eyes.
Dylan isn't gay. He's not gay. We've both had girlfriends. And he doesn't like me. We're best friends. We're practically brothers.
"I have to go." He forces the words out and grabs his bag from off of my bed.
"Wait, Dylan, let's just tal-"
He pushes past me and runs down the hallway, past my dad who's passed out on the couch.
"Dylan!" I shout, rushing after him.
What just happened?
He ignores me and bolts out of the house, running away. Running away from me.
"Dammit." I exclaim.
I made him feel gross. Like he had some disease. I just need a second to adjust. I don't care if he likes guys, he's my best friend, we can deal with it. I should have been more calm.
I head back to my room and sit on my bed with my head in my hands.
What did I do?
"I got the call after school the next day," I tell Mel, "first they found his surfboard washed up on the beach, and his body face down in the sand about a mile away. He got caught up in a storm."
      I avoid her gaze.
     "It was my fault, I should've stopped him, we should've talked it out. He's dead because I hurt him."
     Her hand squeezes mine.
     "You couldn't have known that would happen." She whispers.
      "He was so- so hurt. I did that. I never want to make anyone feel like that ever again."
     "It wasn't your fault," she says adamantly, "you were confused, and afraid. Anybody would have reacted the same way."
      "That doesn't change the fact that he's dead."
      She doesn't say anything, just holds my hand silently.
"The tattoo is for him." She notes quietly and I nod.
"I'm glad you told me."
I look up at her and she smiles softly.
Me too.
"So what about you," I take her hand and flip it to see inside of her wrist where her tattoo is, "what's the sob story behind this tattoo?"
Her demeanor changes and she pulls her hand away, shielding it from me.
"It's stupid."
I shake my head, "Come on, you can tell me."
"I just," she stammers, trying to get the words out, "I wish I could fly. I wish that I could just fly away sometimes. If I could fly away- I wouldn't be a- I wouldn't be a burden anymore." Her words come out as mumbles, like she's scared to say them out loud. Her eyes are downcast and she's holding her hand close to her chest to try and hide the tattoo from me as if I'll forget she ever said anything, like I never saw the bird painted in her wrist.
"Hey, you are not a burden."
How could someone so perfect think so little of themselves? How could she ever think she's anything less than wanted?
"Can't we just go swim now?" She says, trying to change the subject.
"Mel, look at me, you are not a burden."
Mel only glances at me for a few seconds before she shrugs it off and smiles, telling me that she wants to drop the subject.
"Come on, we can do laps." She persists,
standing up and making her way over to the ledge, lowering herself down into the water.
"Mel-"
"Please."
I sigh defeated, and follow suit.
You need to talk to her.
I'll just push her even farther away, plus everyone feels like that at some point in their life. It's just a phase.
"We can race a few times okay?" Mel says, trying to fill up the silence.
"Okay."

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Hey guys!! What do you think? Mel is finally opening up to Mason, more than before.
Don't forget to vote and comment, love you all!!