Listen to This Song

Listen to This Song

Originally posted on oshitbritt.com

 

His legs were swung over the edge of your bed. He gazed at the dusty ceiling. You sat behind him with your legs and arms crossed. Silence emptied the room and the distance between you and him.

“What’d you do after school?” You turned your head to his eyes that kept darting from the ceiling fan to the wall.

“Nothing. Homework,” he said, brushing his hands through his hair.

“That’s cool. Must be a good student.”

“No.” He turned over onto his stomach to face you. Finally. “What’d you do?”

“Same. Well I went for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yeah.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s weird.”

You shrugged. “I like to walk.”

He turned back to face the ceiling.

You continued, “Next time you could walk with me.”

He inhaled. “I hate walks.”

“Oh.”

You looked over at your inviting pillow. You thought, he’s always so cute walking the halls. When he smiles at me I feel so happy. How can I feel that and now feel this?

“Wanna do something,” you asked.

“Sure.” He kicked his heels against your bed, filling the silence.

“What do you wanna do?”

He shrugged.

You looked out your window to the night. Neither of you had your driver’s license yet. The world was so small then. Scanning your room, you thought about what could pass the forty minutes until his mom came to pick him up. Your record player sat on a table in the corner.

You grabbed your favorite album by your favorite artist and put it on the turntable. When you lifted the needle it began spinning, spinning, spinning. You gently placed it on your favorite song. First fuzz filled the silence and then the music that made you so happy on the sunny days when you opened your window.You shot up. “Hey, listen to this song.”

He stopped kicking your bed. You thought, maybe he likes it. Maybe we have something in common after all. The way I felt when he smiled wasn’t a lie.

You sat back down on the bed, feeling closer to him. You thought, maybe we’ll even kiss tonight.

He sat up. Your stomach turned. He moved a little closer to you. It’s happening. He looked down at his side where he was almost falling off the bed, then turned to you and nodded, “Can you move over a little.”

You moved over and dropped your head. The music kept playing as he kicked your bed to the beat until his mom came to pick him up. The smiles in the hallway never were the same.

 

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