robin hood

robin hood.

my backpack is heavy on my shoulders as i wait outside your house so we can walk to school together, like we do every day. i don’t usually go inside. when the door swings open, you walk quickly out, and almost run to me. “come on.” as we walk, i sneak glances at you. you are quiet and serious, and i know why. the yelling last night was bad, and you look like you haven’t slept, with lunar eclipsedark circles under your eyes. you break the silence. “i don’t want to go to school,” you say. “i hate school.” i’m surprised. usually, i know, school is your reprieve, and you are very good at school. you are blindingly intelligent. i’m not sure what to say. “what would you do instead?” “i don’t know,” you say. “go to the treehouse. or to the river, maybe.” you look at me then, our eyes meeting like the familiar connection of your window to my window. “would you come with me?” my heart shouts yes yes yes, but i’m nervous about skipping. “it’s okay if you don’t,” you say. “i won’t be mad at you.” “okay,” i say. “what if we go to homeroom and get checked in for the day, and then we go?” “yeah,” you say. “okay.” we look at one another, emboldened by our nefarious plan. “decided,” i say. “meet up under the bleachers?” “yeah,” you say.

as we walk through the big double doors, we exchange one more cunning look, heavy, buzzing with secrets like bees. “see you later,” i say casually. “yeah, see you.”

homeroom is boring, and i can’t wait for the clock to come around and the bell to finally ring. when it does blare out, at last, i’m the first one up and i head straight toward the football field to meet you. i’m the first one here, so i hang out in the shadow of the bleachers, idly watching the few other kids there, who are smoking and kissing. i try not to be rude and stare, but it’s hard to know where to look. and then i see you heading toward me, and i’m so happy to see you. “hi.” “hi.” i see your glance over at the other kids, with their joint and their kisses, just like i couldn’t stop myself from looking. “where do you want to go?” “i was thinking the river,” you say. “want to?” “sure.” “hang on a minute,” you say. you approach the other kids and talk to one of them in a very low voice, and then give him something and he gives you something. i realize what’s happened only afterward, and i am alight with our flouting of all rules today. 

we take the path through the woods to the river, and the sun through the first is beautiful and somehow sad, no, heartbreaking, at the same time. you are quiet, gazing into the trees, and i want to tell you everything will be okay, and that we’ll always have each other, but the silence is hard to break. we reach the spot where we usually hang out, because it’s almost always just the two of us, and lay on the bank side by side, shoes and socks off, feet dipping into the running water. “better than school,” you say. “yeah.” you take out the joint you bought from the kid under the bleachers, and hold it up in between us. “want to?” “i never have,” i say. “me either,” you say. “so we do it together.” “okay.” you take a lighter out and carefully light the joint and somewhat cautiously put it to your lips and smoke, then hand it to me when you start coughing. i smoke like i’ve seen my parents smoke, and end up coughing too, and we scoop water in our hands out of the river and drink, laughing at ourselves, laughing at each other. “i didn’t know it would burn like that,” you say. “i didn’t either.” 

we lay back down and take turns with the joint in the quiet for a while. i love being quiet with you. “do you feel high?” you ask. “i don’t know,” i say. “i feel...happy. content. to be exactly here. with you.” you roll over on your side, and we look at each other. “i like being here, too,” you say. “with you.” okay, i think, this is the moment. i roll over on my side, closer to you, and as you open your mouth to say something, i lean in and kiss you, and i can feel your surprise radiating through us both. neither of us really knows how to kiss, but i stay close and we keep exploring, our lips hot and sweet. we break apart, and i’m so nervous. we meet each other’s eyes shyly. “wow,” you say. “yeah, wow.” “i know this is going to sound stupid,” you say, “but i don’t think i even realized we could do that.” we laugh. “well, i guess we can,” i say. “want to?” “yes.” this time when we lean in, you kiss me first, and put your hand on my waist, and we stay like that while we kiss and kiss, and i’m wildly dizzy and happy. “this is fun,” you say, when we stop for a moment. “i could do this all day.” “every day,” i add. your smile is brilliant, and i love making you smile like that. “well,” you say. “we have hours and hours until we have to go home,” so i catch your lips and we search each other slowly, something i’ve never felt building beautifully between us. “it’s like all the best things at the same time,” i say. “everything good at once.” “yeah.”

the river sparkles and you shade our eyes with your hand, and for a moment, with your hand’s shadow like a pavilion protecting us, i feel truly, perfectly safe. “hey,” you say. “we can’t tell anyone, okay? not about skipping, and not about the river, and not about kissing, either.” “i know,” i say. “just because of my parents,” you add, “not because i don’t want people to know that we - you know.” “i know.” we gaze at one another, and just when i think you might kiss me again, you kick up your foot and splash river water all over me, and then i’m indignant and i splash you back, and we’re laughing, and it’s the most perfect day.

“i don’t ever want to leave this place,” you say. “i wish we could live here together. forever.” “me too,” i say. “i wish - i wish i could keep you safe.” your look is raw and painful. “i wish you could too,” you say. “i would,” i say. “i’d fight and defend you like - like robin hood defended marian. like that.” “against the evil sheriff of nottingham,” you say. “yes, like that.”

“hey.” “yeah?” “i want to kiss you again,” you say. “want to?” “yes.” you lean in, and i lean in, and this time when we come close together, we just look, for a moment, and there is a warmth between us that makes my heart pound. “my heart is beating so fast,” i say. “mine is too.” we kiss then, softly, like walking through a meadow dotted with wildflowers in the height of summer. “i didn’t know kissing would feel like this,” you say. “i didn’t, either.” “do you want to take a nap with me?” “yeah, okay.” 

we lie close together, there on the river bank, and you reach over and put your arm around me, and we close our eyes. i drift in and out of a half-sleep, feeling your arm the whole time, and the river rushing over my feet. when i wake up, you’re still sleeping, your face serene like a madonna. i don’t ever want to go home, and i don’t want you to have to go home. the feeling of total futile helplessness comes over me like a thunderhead, and it brings sudden tears to my eyes. i want to protect you from everything, i think. from all manner of beasties and monsters and from the sheriff of nottingham, from him especially. i hate him. 

i lean over you, and kiss your forehead, gently, and you move and mutter in your sleep, and i could swear that you say my name. we don’t have to go home for a couple hours, so i let you sleep, and lay beside you, daydreaming of my plan of being the finest archer in all the land, with you by my side, where i can keep you safe always.

end.