Garden Talks
1/1
It was two in the morning when we first met. The wind was just right and I remember the fragrance of the vegetation swirling around me, making my brain foggy and erasing the rest of the night, however temporarily. At first, when he called to me I was terrfied, thought someone was about to kill me, but then he appeared and I felt instantly more relaxed. He was a bit bigger than me, height was, but the boy was lanky and looked rather harmless.
I wasn’t the strongest in the world but I felt confident in my ability to win in a fight as long as he wasn’t armed. Then I was screwed. He wasn’t though, and the tall blond wandered over with a smile, collapsing on one of the many benches in the vast garden. It was a public place, a more decorative version of a park, filled with vegetation from almost every continent.
“Elliot,” he said to me, holding out a hand. I had had to walk closer to him, dodging a tree branch I could hardly see in the dark, in order to shake his hand.
“Samuel.”
“Do people call you Sam?” I shook my head. I had never had a friend close enough to give me a nickname and my parents were too proper for that. “Well I’m going to call you Sammie, ok?” I shrugged. I’d never see him again, so it didn’t really matter what he wanted to call me. “Talk!”
“About what?” I asked, hating that my voice sounded timid.
“Anything. Come, sit down. It’s two a.m. so you must have a reason to be wandering around out here. I want you to tell me what it is.” I shrugged, sitting next to him on the bench and turning so I was facing him.
“My parents are mad. I got a B on this paper in my chemistry class and there was this guy…” Elliot nodded, moving his hand in a motion that clearly stated to explain. “I don’t really have any friends but this guy was really nice and we’d been talking for a couple days. My parents found out so now I can’t talk to him anymore.”
“Wait, so you can’t have friends?” His eyebrow was raised, I could see, even in the dark.
“Not if they’re guys,” I admitted. “I’m gay.”
“And? That’s like saying I can’t have girls that are friends because I’m straight. So wait, if you’re bi… then your parents wouldn’t let you have any friends?” I just shrugged, realizing he had a good point. I agreed with Elliot’s point of view but my parents thought that hanging out with girls would somehow turn me straight. I don’t know. “So you like coming here to think then?”
“Yeah, everything is peaceful here, and it smells so amazing. Usually I bring my camera but I decided not to tonight,” I said, shrugging. Too much work. “So what are you out here for?”
“Insomnia. I know I won’t be getting to sleep anytime soon so I end up just walking around here. We live right across the street so it’s not a big deal.” He shrugged, pulling his phone from his pocket. “It’s only 50 out. You want a jacket or something?” he asked, frowning at what I assumed was my ragged t-shirt. It was at least six years old, and my bedtime shirt. I shook my head, used to the cold. My parents rarely used the heat in our house.
“You have pretty hair,” I said, sitting next to him. “It’s the same color as oak wood.” He laughed, looking at me for a moment.
“You’re a little strange Sammie.” I nodded, looking away and to the moon. I knew I was weird, different. It was why I didn’t have any friends. “Hey, it isn’t a bad thing. At least you aren’t afraid to be yourself.”
“I can’t be anyone else.” I had tried so hard for years to change, to be more outgoing, straighter, more everything really. How messed up was that? I couldn’t even fake myself a few friends.
“Lucky. I wish I hadn’t been able to. I don’t know what happened but somehow I turned into a soccer captain and one of the poplar kids. I hate running, and big crowds.”
“Don’t you have friends that way though?” He shrugged, a noncommittal noise sounding from him. Sighing I leaned over again, tired and wanting to be home. Instead I put my head on Elliot’s shoulder. He could push me away if he wanted to, but I didn’t think he would. He seemed like he could be my friend.
“Goodnight Sammie,” he said, arm hanging around my shoulder. “I’ll wake you up at daybreak. It’s beautiful out here then.” I looked up at him and smiled, nodding. For once things seemed to be ok, no worries bothering me about being alone.
I wasn’t the strongest in the world but I felt confident in my ability to win in a fight as long as he wasn’t armed. Then I was screwed. He wasn’t though, and the tall blond wandered over with a smile, collapsing on one of the many benches in the vast garden. It was a public place, a more decorative version of a park, filled with vegetation from almost every continent.
“Elliot,” he said to me, holding out a hand. I had had to walk closer to him, dodging a tree branch I could hardly see in the dark, in order to shake his hand.
“Samuel.”
“Do people call you Sam?” I shook my head. I had never had a friend close enough to give me a nickname and my parents were too proper for that. “Well I’m going to call you Sammie, ok?” I shrugged. I’d never see him again, so it didn’t really matter what he wanted to call me. “Talk!”
“About what?” I asked, hating that my voice sounded timid.
“Anything. Come, sit down. It’s two a.m. so you must have a reason to be wandering around out here. I want you to tell me what it is.” I shrugged, sitting next to him on the bench and turning so I was facing him.
“My parents are mad. I got a B on this paper in my chemistry class and there was this guy…” Elliot nodded, moving his hand in a motion that clearly stated to explain. “I don’t really have any friends but this guy was really nice and we’d been talking for a couple days. My parents found out so now I can’t talk to him anymore.”
“Wait, so you can’t have friends?” His eyebrow was raised, I could see, even in the dark.
“Not if they’re guys,” I admitted. “I’m gay.”
“And? That’s like saying I can’t have girls that are friends because I’m straight. So wait, if you’re bi… then your parents wouldn’t let you have any friends?” I just shrugged, realizing he had a good point. I agreed with Elliot’s point of view but my parents thought that hanging out with girls would somehow turn me straight. I don’t know. “So you like coming here to think then?”
“Yeah, everything is peaceful here, and it smells so amazing. Usually I bring my camera but I decided not to tonight,” I said, shrugging. Too much work. “So what are you out here for?”
“Insomnia. I know I won’t be getting to sleep anytime soon so I end up just walking around here. We live right across the street so it’s not a big deal.” He shrugged, pulling his phone from his pocket. “It’s only 50 out. You want a jacket or something?” he asked, frowning at what I assumed was my ragged t-shirt. It was at least six years old, and my bedtime shirt. I shook my head, used to the cold. My parents rarely used the heat in our house.
“You have pretty hair,” I said, sitting next to him. “It’s the same color as oak wood.” He laughed, looking at me for a moment.
“You’re a little strange Sammie.” I nodded, looking away and to the moon. I knew I was weird, different. It was why I didn’t have any friends. “Hey, it isn’t a bad thing. At least you aren’t afraid to be yourself.”
“I can’t be anyone else.” I had tried so hard for years to change, to be more outgoing, straighter, more everything really. How messed up was that? I couldn’t even fake myself a few friends.
“Lucky. I wish I hadn’t been able to. I don’t know what happened but somehow I turned into a soccer captain and one of the poplar kids. I hate running, and big crowds.”
“Don’t you have friends that way though?” He shrugged, a noncommittal noise sounding from him. Sighing I leaned over again, tired and wanting to be home. Instead I put my head on Elliot’s shoulder. He could push me away if he wanted to, but I didn’t think he would. He seemed like he could be my friend.
“Goodnight Sammie,” he said, arm hanging around my shoulder. “I’ll wake you up at daybreak. It’s beautiful out here then.” I looked up at him and smiled, nodding. For once things seemed to be ok, no worries bothering me about being alone.