Remembering Sunday

"Good morning, Laura," Seth whispered softly into my ear, his lips now against my cheek to plant a kiss. My eyes were half open as I felt around for the dark blue comforter, just wanting to curl up and drift back into sleep.

Okay, so, at one point in our lives, there was some attraction that had been ignited. We spent our years growing up together, and if we weren't in one class together, we acted like the world would fall apart. Some found it weird that Seth and I were so tied to the hip with each other, but that's just because we understood each other from the minute the cookie was split in two. I knew his secrets, he knew mine. From that, a lot of people assumed we'd be together before we graduated, but we always shut their theory down. It was embarrassing to see how right they really were. I wasn't sure what had made Seth and I attracted to each other, but whatever it was, I was glad it happened.

Over the years, everything had fallen evenly into place, and one of the scary facts of our earlier friendship was how strongly our parents agreed with it. With my mother and father, prim and proper was the way to go. Not once did they lecture me on how I should have a circle of girls as my friends. All along I thought that would be the outcome due to Seth's little problem, but apparently I was wrong. Even Seth's parents, withdrawn and barely bothered to notice whether or not Seth was even home, had made a statement about me.

"She's a very nice girl, Seth. Good for you,'" Seth quoted his father one day to me when we were still in the 'just friends' stage while sitting in the hammock in my backyard. That was the most surprising statement of that summer, as we liked to call it.

However, there was a part of Seth that killed me since the day his life began to fall apart. His younger brother, Adam, had been murdered in the park of our hometown when he was only thirteen. The bloody blade of the knife that the murdered had used was etched into Seth's memory, and showed up in the form of a razor blade along his wrists since that fateful night.

Seth didn't tell me right away about what had happened. From Monday to Wednesday, Seth wasn't in school that week. My worry had increased so much due to the fact that when I called him, he didn't answer. Finally on that Thursday, Seth called me and asked me to skip school with him.

"Why?" I had asked. "And where the hell have you been? You've got me worried sick."

"I know," he'd said. "I'll explain everything, but I just really need you right now." The tone to his voice was showing nothing but sadness, and the fact that he needed me propelled me to have my mother call me in sick. She wasn't happy at all with the decision, but when I told her something was wrong with Seth, she seemed to soften a bit.

That Thursday was the day I finally saw a boy cry. And not just any boy, but Seth. We spent the majority of that day in my hammock, my arms tightly wound around him in a hug as he let the tears ease from his tear ducts. The whole story had shaken me, and eventually I was crying, too. Adam was always a bucketful of happiness, and now it seemed like a whole part of both of us had magically vanished. While we had been sitting in the hammock was when I first noticed the scars, er, well, the scabs. A long, uneven line was drawn down his vein and was covered by an awful scab. His wrist bands and jelly bracelets covered most of it, but some of it slipped out into my vision. He'd always been the type of guy to dress like an emo, what with the tight black pants and bracelets, but never would I have thought that he would actually cut himself.

"Seth?" I had asked, and he looked at me with puffy red eyes. I gestured at the scab and he quickly pulled his accessories over it.

"It's nothing, my cat did it," he replied quickly. We both knew damn well that he had no cat.

"You cut," I stated in devastation, by heart dropping into my stomach. Fresh tears came from his eyes, as did mine. From that point on, I was always telling him how much I wanted him to stop. Seth decided to not cut as often which was a sign as to how much he really did care about me. He wanted to see me happy, and to do that, he needed to stop hurting himself. Now that we had been together for over a year and a half, he'd almost stopped completely. I hadn't seen a scab on his wrists in ages, and that thrilled me. It was like he'd said to me before: I was his everything.

"Did you sleep well?" Seth asked as he ran a hand through my multicolored hair, his hand stopping and twirling the darkest shade around his finger. My hair used to be just one natural shade of brunette, but I had gotten it redone a couple years ago. The under layers were the darkest in a deep, deep brown shade that most mistook for black. The next layers consisted if somewhat dark colors of brunette, but were lighter than the first. It just got lighter and lighter until you finally reached my grown out bangs which were a blonde-ish color.

"I was cold," I replied. Well, duh. I was only in my bra and panties, and he was only in boxers.

"Why didn't you put some clothes on?" he teased.

"Because I was sleeping."

"But if you w-"

"Shut up, you." I put my hand over his mouth. "I just wasn't in the mood to sit up and dress myself at three in the morning." Seth smirked under my palm before sitting up, kissing my cheek, and standing up.

"Gotta get ready, babe," he said, pulling clothes out of the dresser drawers. I frowned and curled up into the sheets, wishing he didn't have to work. Although, even if he didn't, I would still be forced to leave later on for my own plans.

Seth exited the bedroom to jump in the shower, and I could tell by his pace that he was rushing for my sake. As much as I wanted to just lay in bed all day and not think about a thing, I had to get up and get my ass ready.

But not for a job. For a reunion.