Sanctuary

Monday after school came and Malcolm messaged me after we spoke today. 

“Hey wanna come over after dinner?” 

     “To do homework?” 

“Yeah. I have this project to finish.” 

“Me too. I’ll ask my mom,” I turned to my mom begging her, only to be told I don’t have a ride. 

“My mom said I could but I don’t have a ride so maybe tomorrow or Halloween night or something” 

“I can pick you up!” 

“Oh. Okay! Here’s my address,” I messaged Mack back quickly and prepare to see him. 

Malcolm pulled up out front of my house. Before he got to the door, I walked out to greet him. 

“Hi,” I smiled. 

“Hi,” he looked so nervous. 

He pulled into the driveway. Malcolm entered his house in front of me. I walked in, greeting the people who raised him. 

“Hi, I’m Gabby,” I introduced myself with my clammy hands and my nervous… everything. 

 He grabbed my hand, “okay. Homework time!” 

We flirt but otherwise sit on his bed in silence, waiting for both of us to make a move. 

And once again, in the movies this is the part where they turn to each other and make out like virgins. But that was also a false expectation as well. 

We finished our homework and he touched my hand. “Look at these.” 

I ooo and ahhh at his collection of model cars, trucks and trains, of course. Just about every mode of transportation there is. 

“My grandfather used to build these with me when he was alive,” he turned to look at me in the slightly eliminated room. I sat on the bed and he stepped closer to me. 

He stood in front of me and stared. “So about that boyfriend?”

“Who?”

“Ethan.”

    “Oh! Yeah, no, we’re not dating. I tried to be friends with him because he’s friends with my brother. They hang out together.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if I should do what I want to.” He grabbed my hand. 

    I stand up and whisper, “You should.”

    “Okay,” he whispers onto my skin. He grazes his lips onto mine and kissed me. Holding me tightly. I shut my eyes as he kisses me and feel the satisfaction drain into me through his fingertips. He kissed me like it’s no secret.

At school, it’s all a secret. I placed my history textbook on the table next to him. Almost as a decoy to get closer to him. I scoot closer, hearing the metal on the chair never felt so exciting before. 

     “Hi,” I smiled at him and flipped my book to page 241, chapter 9: Entering the War. I’ve seen this chapter so much today, I can probably read each line to him without looking at it once. Mack swipes the strand of hair from in front of my eyes. 

“Hey!” his friend’s paused, looking at me looking at him. 

“Hey…” Omar said slower this time. That makes me sweat on the inside, does he know?

    They spoke as I sat patiently. This won’t take long to get around, I think.

Mornings felt different. I didn’t dread waking up because I love seeing his name on my phone. It didn’t feel like anything particularly important was going to happen today and it didn’t. I wake up and get ready. I walked to my bus stop and hop on the bus. Except lately, he has been picking me up and giving me a kiss and saying good morning. We go to school and see each other throughout the day. But this morning, we sat in the hallway and teased one another. I tickled him and look away despite me being the only other person there. I slipped a picture of him as I’m laughing. 

I can’t stand the holidays but we’re already in November and I’m scared to find out how he reacts when he finds out I’m not easy to love. Or to deal with or to handle, especially when he struggles too.

My phone chimes and I think he just sent me a text.

“Can I tell you something?” I read his text and my anxiety makes me feel sick. 

   I reply to him, sitting down at my mom’s kitchen table. 

“It’s important,” he texts me back right away. 

“Okay.” 

“I love you,” he says. I got choked up and scared. 

“I have depression. And it’s difficult and unpredictable and my anxiety is really bad. It’s gonna be hard to deal with.” 

Before I got to send a second text, he reassured me he’s not worried about that. He knows. He can handle it. “He can’t handle it,” I exhale to myself. 

I think about him telling me he loves me probably all day and it’s 9 o’clock at night and I’m not even sure if the thought makes me nauseous or if it thrills me. He repeats over and over to me every chance he gets. I guess to burn it so far into my brain that maybe I’ll believe it. 

    ***

I can hear Malcolm’s car pulling up to my house as I’m putting my shoes on. Looking in the mirror, I fixed my hair one last time for school pictures. 

He walked in front of me as I hold onto his hand and follow. I whisper his name.  He turns around and pulls me closer to him. We share a smile that burns into my brain so I can project it in my memories when I’m alone. Mack kissed my forehead. 

On our way to school, there’s cars passing us in the opposite direction and my fingers are tangled up in his. They have never felt this perfectly intertwined with anyone else’s hands and I can almost guarantee they won’t with anyone else. 

He runs his thumb over the top of my hand and it’s new to me but it’s kind of comforting like the way he taps my hand three times when a part of a song plays that reminds him of me.

***

I stood there as I giggled at the silly faces he was making to make me laugh. Which were successful. He pulled out his phone and flipped the brown case open. The breeze pushed my hair and as I was fixing it, he looked up from his screen.   “Smile!” He said. I covered my face nervously. 

We ran across the beach, fooling around. 

He sat there looking at me lovingly. “Wow,” he exhaled. I have never felt prettier than when he looked at me like that. 

Down by the lake, we watched the sun fade away. 

“Look!” I played with him. 

It’s my turn to take pictures of you now,” I giggled uncontrollably. “Look! Smile!” 

He buried his face into me, anxiously. The sun kissed us just right for the photo before waving goodbye. A photo I printed out, put in a frame that had white trimming and wood curves. I wrapped the frame in wrapping paper that was red with plaid Christmas stockings.

***

”So what did you get him?”

”I got him a picture and a couple other things.”

”What did he get you?”

What did Malcolm get me for a gift? He got me a gift that I didn’t ask for, a gift that I didn’t expect. Something I’ll have for the rest of my life. Whether that ends tomorrow or years and years from now.

What did he get me? I asked myself until I remembered when I put my head on the pillow and I’m choking on butterflies. When I’m in pain in my cheeks from smiling too hard or when I look at him and he’s already staring. He gave me someone I’ll love so much that it hurts and a love that I can feel his nervousness from another state. A love that is bond to both of us, strings attached that seem to be made of steel.