Putting Life on Hold

If there was one thing that shoving myself into academics and spending most of my time reading hadn’t taught me, it was how to make conversation. Sitting in the car with Eric (because we had at least gotten past the obstacle of first names, thank God) was the most awkward situation I had been put into in all of my seventeen years of life, and by the looks of it, he felt the same. The awkward glances being sent towards each other, the unnecessary coughing and clearing of throats to fill the silence told me that the both of us were quite inexperienced with this situation. This, I guess, shouldn’t have come as a shock. Honestly, how many people give rides out to helpless teenage girls at one in the morning? Not many, I hoped.

I didn't know what station was on, but the rap lyrics coming through the speakers made me feel that much more out of my element. I shifted in my seat for about the millionth time, the buttons on my shorts making a loud noise against the leather. Eric looked at me, an eyebrow raised and the beginnings of a smile on his thin, pink lips. I could feel the heat rushing to my face as I blushed; it never took a lot to embarrass me. He let out a chuckle and turned his eyes back to the deserted road. We came to an intersection and I instructed him to turn right before we lapsed into silence once more.

“Nice neighborhood,” he muttered, more to himself than to me, I think. I looked up from my intertwined hands, noticing that we had indeed already finished climbing up the hill; his car now idled outside the large, brick archway that stood as the entrance to my suburb. It was hard to see in the darkness, but I could almost feel the harsh glare and the pressure I felt on my shoulders whenever I looked up at the big, silver letters that ran across the top of the arch.

Welcome to Fairway Park.

I hated that place, I hated the fact that all the houses looked the same; I hated the gossiping women and the competitive men. “Did you know Sydney Crawler’s son came home at six in the morning yesterday?” “Did you see that I put in a new pool?” Everyone had to be better than the next person; everyone’s things had to be bigger and flashier. It didn't matter if they were more efficient, as long as they cost more money than the guy’s across the streets. Underneath the charades, the block parties and the barbeques and the Christmas parties, you couldn’t trust anyone here. Telling one person was like telling them all.

I glanced back at Eric as he pushed his car across the concrete, driving under the archway and going in the directions in which I pointed. We stayed quiet; much like we had the rest of the car ride, and it wasn't long before he was pulling into my gravel driveway, a crunching noise echoing in the silence as his tires rolled over all the little rocks. He put the car in park and turned his head, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before I looked away. My house looked rather uninviting as it stood in the darkness, towering over us in all of its four story glory. I knew I must have looked hesitant, I could tell by the concerned stare I felt burning a hole into the side of my face.

I reached for the handle, his hand reaching out to wrap tightly around my wrist before I could open the door. I turned my head to look at his hand clasped tightly around my skin, trailing my eyes up his arm until they landed on the tattoo on the inside of his forearm. He had rolled the sleeves of his cardigan up to his elbows, and the intricately detailed feather stood out prominently against his pale skin. I could feel my lips twitching up into a small smile, and I let the smile form as I continued to look further up, my eyes finally meeting his as he stared at me in what appeared to be anticipation.

“I got that tattoo when I was seventeen,” he told me, having noticed the fascination that danced in my eyes as soon as I had noticed the ink on his skin. I looked back to the tattoo, and without thinking, released my other hand from the door handle to reach out and trace the black lines. He didn't tense or stiffen at all under my fingertips, even though my actions surely crossed some sort of line.

“Do you regret it?” I asked, my fingers stalling on his skin as I waited for his answer. It took him quite some time to answer, but I was okay with that; I didn't really want to go back into my house, anyways.

“Not really, no. My mom thought I would, when I came home with it one day after school. She thought I was absolutely crazy, but your mom would too, right?” He paused, a small laugh escaping his lips, and I took that small moment to think about what my mom’s reaction would be. Would she even notice? Would she even care? My father would hate it, would think of it as a mistake and force me to have it removed right away, but what would my mom say? I hadn’t heard her speak her mind in such a long time. “It’s sort of symbolic now. I may not be able to fly like a bird, but I’ll always have that same sense of freedom, as long as I don’t let other people control me. It’s important to take other people’s opinions and advice into consideration, but in the end, it all comes down to you. You’re the only person that really gets a say in your life, ya know?”

But I didn't know.

I dropped my fingers from his arm and pulled my wrist from his grasp, turning toward the door and opening it like I had meant to at least three minutes ago. Eric didn't grab me this time, and although I already missed the comfort that his car gave me (no pressure, no expectations, no control), I knew I couldn’t stay there forever, or if I would ever even be there again.

“Hey!”

I turned my head towards the car, the headlights blinding me for a moment before I noticed Eric’s head hanging out of his window. I cocked my head to the side as I waited for him to speak.

“If you ever need a ride, well, I’ll be staying at Nick’s house for a while, I think. I’m sure your sister knows the number, or it’s in the phonebook, or something. Just... just call me, okay?”

I left out the fact that I didn't even know who Nick was as I nodded my head, a smile forming once again on my lips as I turned and continued up the pathway to my house. Even if I wouldn’t ever see Eric again, or sit in his car and have maybe half a conversation with him, it was always nice to think that I might have that opportunity. I wouldn’t get my hopes up.