A Physics Prodigy From Ukraine
4.
“I’ve been thinking…”
I closed my eyes.
It was cold.
Snow soaked into my pyjama bottoms.
Mum wasn’t home yet.
And Brendon’s school had a snow day.
“Where’s your dad?”
Oh, damn.
I shrugged.
“He left.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
I sighed.
Why was he sorry?
Had people really got to the point of sensitivity that they felt guilty for others?
I hadn’t.
“Are you home-schooled?”
I hadn’t thought of that.
That was a good excuse.
“Just, I’ve never seen you at school, and you don’t get the bus…”
I wasn’t home-schooled.
But in the whole month I’d waited to hear Brendon ask that;
I’d never thought of bloody private tutoring.
I nodded, spreading my arms and legs in one last snow angel.
I sat up.
I looked at Brendon.
He frowned at me.
He frowned a lot.
I pulled my hat off, shaking out the crushed snow.
When I pulled it on again, there was an outstretched hand beside my arm.
I frowned at it.
I could beat Brendon at his own game.
“I don’t want you to get a handprint in your angel.”
I pulled off my gloves.
I took his hand.
He winced.
I was cold.
As I stretched my legs, I realised I was shivering.
Brendon’s arms tensed uncertainly.
Should I?
Would I?
Was I even capable of hugging anymore?
I didn’t know.
I had never considered Brendon as a potential friend.
He was just the simple person next door.
Oh, I was so confused.
What did I even do?!
Was he going to hug me?
Did I have to hug him back?
I mentally slapped myself.
Get it together Ryan.
It’s just a hug.
I let myself relax in Brendon’s arms.
He pulled me in.
God, he was warm.
I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.
My toes were burning with the chill.
As I gingerly hopped from one foot to the other, Brendon tilted his head to find my mouth.
I hadn’t realised my face was frozen.
Until he’d crushed his lips to mine.
And I melted with my conflicts.
I closed my eyes.
It was cold.
Snow soaked into my pyjama bottoms.
Mum wasn’t home yet.
And Brendon’s school had a snow day.
“Where’s your dad?”
Oh, damn.
I shrugged.
“He left.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
I sighed.
Why was he sorry?
Had people really got to the point of sensitivity that they felt guilty for others?
I hadn’t.
“Are you home-schooled?”
I hadn’t thought of that.
That was a good excuse.
“Just, I’ve never seen you at school, and you don’t get the bus…”
I wasn’t home-schooled.
But in the whole month I’d waited to hear Brendon ask that;
I’d never thought of bloody private tutoring.
I nodded, spreading my arms and legs in one last snow angel.
I sat up.
I looked at Brendon.
He frowned at me.
He frowned a lot.
I pulled my hat off, shaking out the crushed snow.
When I pulled it on again, there was an outstretched hand beside my arm.
I frowned at it.
I could beat Brendon at his own game.
“I don’t want you to get a handprint in your angel.”
I pulled off my gloves.
I took his hand.
He winced.
I was cold.
As I stretched my legs, I realised I was shivering.
Brendon’s arms tensed uncertainly.
Should I?
Would I?
Was I even capable of hugging anymore?
I didn’t know.
I had never considered Brendon as a potential friend.
He was just the simple person next door.
Oh, I was so confused.
What did I even do?!
Was he going to hug me?
Did I have to hug him back?
I mentally slapped myself.
Get it together Ryan.
It’s just a hug.
I let myself relax in Brendon’s arms.
He pulled me in.
God, he was warm.
I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.
My toes were burning with the chill.
As I gingerly hopped from one foot to the other, Brendon tilted his head to find my mouth.
I hadn’t realised my face was frozen.
Until he’d crushed his lips to mine.
And I melted with my conflicts.