Some Days

I inhaled and held it. I counted the seconds as they ticked away, the memories echoing throughout the silent room. It suddenly all felt completely different.

He hadn’t moved in five minutes. Honestly, I didn’t want him to move.

I could feel my cheeks turning deeper shades of red; my eyes watered. My lungs burned as they constricted, begging for a return to normalcy. But I couldn’t make myself do it.

I glanced at him.

His green eyes looked scared as he stared through me. His bathroom felt cold, unforgiving. He sat nervously on the toilet seat, tapping his foot anxiously. His face was pale and ghostly.

I stole a glance at the sink.

And exhaled.

I felt his eyes snap onto my body. He sat up straighter, alert now. I slowly allowed my eyes to drift back to him. He looked even more terrified than before. If I could have one wish, it would be to understand what was going through his mind.

“Nolan?” he asked, voice cracked.

I extended my hand, picked up the object of our fear, and placed it in my pocket. He didn’t need to be terrified. I would do anything to save him.

So I did just that.

I turned without answering him and pulled the door open. I made it halfway down the stairs before he ran after me; I didn’t stop, not even when he begged me to.

His footsteps were heavy behind me but I already had my keys in hand, doors unlocked. I had to save him.

“Nolan? Nolan, please!” he pleaded from his doorway. He stumbled, barefoot, outside onto the hot sidewalk. I hid myself behind my car door as I studied him. He looked, above all else, young and naive.

I ducked into my car and closed the door, locked it instantly, and hesitated after shoving the key into the ignition. My eyes watered again, only this time it was because I felt guilty; I knew this was wrong but I had no other choice if I truly wanted to save him.

I put my car into reverse and took my foot off the brake.

“Nolan!”

“Nolan?”

I looked up from my phone, where I was frantically trying to call anyone to come and get me. It was so hot that I could have sworn it was a mirage until I felt the slight swoosh of the van as it screeched to a halt.

It had been five years since I had been home. I left without a trace and never looked back, no matter how badly I wanted to. It wasn’t as easy as the movies made it seem but somehow, at 17, I quickly learned to manage.

“Jesus, it really is Nolan.”

I slid off the hood of my broken-down car and awkwardly stood there, waiting for the rush of boys to approach me. I hardly recognized them, with their matured faces and new haircuts, but their eyes brought me back to the old days. There were a few I hadn’t met – only seen in pictures and heard about in interviews.

The first boy that engulfed me was the older brother I always wished I had. “Max,” I breathed softly into his chest, instinctively wrapping my arms around him as well. We didn’t let go for a long time. He squeezed me as tightly as he could without completely cutting off my air supply, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t cling back just as hard.

“Okay, you need to share,” a voice from behind Max said. “Nolan isn’t only yours.”

I shyly backed away from Max. The next grinning boy was little Kennedy Brock. Except, he wasn’t so little anymore. He hugged me close to him and mumbled things in my ear; words I didn’t put together until he stepped back and felt the resentment being sent my way by a pair of gorgeous green eyes.

“Who is Nolan?” one of the others questioned. No one answered him and he could sense not to ask again when, finally, the only one that mattered stepped forward. Hesitantly at first; cautious, as if I were an illusion and at any second, I would disappear – for the second time.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, standing so close to me now that it brought me back to five or six years ago when even this little bit of space was too much distance between us.

His finger twitched, gently brushing against my wrist. I wanted to smile but the guilt overpowered everything in that moment.

“My mom is sick,” I replied. “She isn’t going to last much longer.”

“You’re Nolan Greeley,” one of them said suddenly. The boy came into my line of vision and his cheeks flushed when I shielded my eyes against the sun so I could see him better.

“How’d you know?” I questioned.

The boy nervously looked around before he stepped closer to me. “I’m Garrett. My mom takes care of yours. She tells me all the time how heartbroken Mrs. Greeley is because her daughter Nolan won’t come home.”

Another unfamiliar face cleared their throat. “Did you need a ride into town, Nolan?”

A rush of relief washed over me as I glanced back at my dead car. “That would be great.”

Max helped me into passenger seat of the van before he rounded the front and situated himself in the driver’s seat. Once the boys had all settled in, the vehicle lurched forward and gradually picked up speed as we made way into our little hometown of Tempe, Arizona.