If My Heart Was a House

He stood staring at the door for awhile before he realized that he was dreaming. He knew that Julies had a boyfriend, not that that stop Rafe from daydreaming. He didn't understand what Juliette saw in that snake of a boyfriend she had. And he couldn't understand why he cared so much. He kept telling himself it was because she was his best, (only) friend and he cared about her, he wanted the best for her.

But he knew that was a lie. At least the only friend part. His feelings toward Juliette changed a long, long time ago. Rafe can't remember when exactly everything changed for him, but it was also hard for him to recall a memory that didn't have him staring after her, dreaming.

Rafe has been living by himself for almost four years now. After his parents died he lived with his Pop-Pop for practically his whole life. When he was fifteen his grandfather passed away and in his will it said that Rafe was old enough to live on his own. So he did.

The house was already paid for, all Rafe had to do was keep tabs on the bank accounts to make sure they didn't take more than they should. His Pop-Pop took care of everything, and Rafe couldn't help but feel a little lucky about that. It helped that they lived in a small enough town for most of everyone to know who was who, at least by word of mouth. Even if he never saw a certain person, he had most likely heard a story about them.

Every person that his Pop-Pop knew, knew that Rafe was living on his own. And for awhile elderly women and wives of men that had worked for his grandfather, would stop by and bring Rafe food. So for a long time he never had to worry about going to the grocery store.

Which he was quite happy about, he was never good a choosing something when there was so many choices that looked exactly the same. But the women stopped coming a couple years back, there are still some that feel bad and come by once a month, but it's only about a hand-full of women.

Rafe turned his back to the door and walked into the kitchen. He wanted something, he just didn't know what. After several minutes of staring at the chipping paint on the cabinet doors, he turned around and went towards the stairs that led up to two bathrooms and three bedrooms.

He hasn't touched his grandfather's room. And his grandfather didn't change anything in there since Rafe's grandmother died. Rafe would go in there from time to time, opening the closet to look at the white upon white dress shirts that Pop-Pop wore everyday for over fifty years. Rafe would turn around in a circle in the middle of the room, slowly looking at all the little nick-nacks his grandmother collected.

She had a thing for teapots. There was row of row, of row, of all different size, shaped, little, and big teapots. Some were ceramic. Some were so tiny, they looked like the belonged in Alice in Wonderland. Some were crystal. Some were painted a rainbow of colors. Every little one. And every big one. She loved with all her heart.

Rafe walked down the hall to his bedroom and flopped down on his bed. He laid there staring at the ceiling. It seemed like that's all he did. Stare and dream of another place, another world. A dream-world where he had everything that he wanted and he couldn't ever complain. But then as he laid there thinking about all the things he wished he had, he started to feel so disgusted with himself. That he couldn't be happy with the life that he had.

Some people didn't even have a roof over their heads. Let alone food in their stomachs. Or a mouth full of healthy, clean teeth. Some people didn't have a family. Some people didn't get the privilege to meet someone as amazing as Juliette.

Feeling sick to his stomach Rafe got up from the bed, went into his adjoining bathroom and splashed water on his face. He felt like he was about to puke in the sink. So he decided to brush his teeth to get the nasty taste out of his mouth and then take a shower.



Walking down the stairs with a towel in hand scrubbing away at the chocolate-brown hair on-top his head, Rafe heard someone knocking at his front door. He quickly skipped down the rest of the steps while trying to zipped up his dark-washed fitted jeans. The knocking only increased as he got closer to the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he called as he zipped his zipper the rest of the way and buttoned the little brass-colored button and opened the door.

A very dripping wet Juliette stared back at him.

Giving Rafe barely enough time to blink she rushed in to get out of the rain, "Oh, thank God! I thought you left to go get the movies already!"

Rafe hung the slightly damp towel around his neck and then closed his front door. Turning slowly to look at Julies, he silently raised one dark-chocolate eyebrow.

"Oh, uh, hey," she timidly said glancing up at him and then staring down at her feet.

Rafe just stood there watching her. He could tell she was starting to squirm, but he didn't care. He'd wait forever for her.

"Listen, I know what you're thinking. And that's not what happened," she told him looking him square in the eye.

When Rafe didn't say anything back she lost her resolve and glanced away. Which translated to: something did in fact happen.

"We got into another fight, okay?" She stated more than asked. "Happy now?" She mumbled, sounding so defeated and started to walk towards the closet where she knew she could get a towel so she didn't drip water all over Rafe's hardwood floor.

Rafe reached out and grabbed her wrist. His hold so more gentle than the boy she was just with. He turned her to face him and stared at her, studying everything about her. Rafe as always been good at being able to tell if Julies was lying. Or how upset she was. Juliette has always held her feelings in, and it seemed Rafe was the only one ever to be able to decipher her different levels of hurt.

He sighed and then handed her the towel he used to dry his hair.

She smiled a small soft smile, "Thanks," she said her voice barely over a whisper.

And Rafe felt his heart flutter. Which didn't make him feel very manly at all.