Sequel: The Epilogue ›
A Place on My Pillow
.27
Alex took Polly’s hand as they crossed the busy intersection, much like he would if she were a child. She was still stumbling along so as far as he was concerned, yeah, she was a child. He didn’t understand how she was still more than half asleep. He’d woken her an hour ago and they’d been walking for the past twenty to thirty minutes. It had taken her a while to actually finish getting ready. Although this was probably payback for all the times she’d had to convince him, or on occasion even bribe him into getting out of bed. That was different, he thought, pulling the sleepy girl towards their destination across town.
“Are we there yet?’ she asked.
He wondered if maybe they should’ve driven, but one look at Polly said she would have been asleep in the passenger seat as soon as she’d sat down. He needed her awake for this.
“Almost.”
“Can I sleep when I get there?”
“Nope,” he said softly, in that kind voice that he saved particularly for small children, like Millie’s grandkids or his own cousins. Or in this case, a drowsy Pollyanna who refused to fully wake up.
“Where are we going?” she grumbled, still holding Alex’s hand even though they weren’t crossing any street. She just honestly liked the feeling of his hand, warmly wrapped around hers. She liked the security of knowing that he had her, he’d hold onto her. Although, she was too tired to know that. All she could focus on was the warmth and Alex’s familiar smell.
“You’ll see.”
“Yeah, sure, I will. But I want to know now,” she complained, opening her eyes a bit wider, taking in their surroundings. She had to force herself not just slump into Alex and expect him to carry her, because to be honest, she tossed and turned all night on her little couch, the decision between Darren and Alex bouncing annoyingly around inside her head.
“I know you do. We’re almost there. I promise.”
“You’re talking to me like I’m five.”
“Finally caught on, did ya?” he chuckled but squeezed her hand comfortingly.
“I’m not five years old. I’m tired.”
“And you turn into a kindergartener when you’re tired,” Alex continue for her. She didn’t appreciate it.
“You’re not being nice.”
“I’m sorry. You’re adorable either way,” he said, grinning. She want to smack that smile, that smug smile that lit up his features with rare cockiness, right off his face. But she would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way that that smirk made one of his eyes crinkle. And she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way that when he smiled that, you could see his white, and slightly crooked teeth that fit his mouth perfectly. She’d be lying and that just wasn’t good.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said. He didn’t blush this time. No, this time, he merely bit his lip and looked towards traffic, judging how far away their destination was. “But seriously. Where are we going?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Really really want to know?”
“YES!”
“Are you positive?” he teased.
“OH MY GOD. Alex, I will kill you.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not a yes or no.”
“That’s it. You’re dead.”
She began to chase him down the street, their hands falling away from the other. He was leading her, unbeknownst to her, straight to their destination.
“Oh, you can run faster than that. Catch me if you can,” he said, jogging backwards. She glared at him and pushed herself faster. He turned and took off, his long legs taking him away faster than hers could catch up.
“Alex!” she yelled.
She could hear him laughing as he ran. He was slowing down before he turned off on some side street that Pollyanna had never been down before.
“Oh, I’m a kill him,” she muttered and slowed her pace. She knew he wouldn’t leave her behind like that. He was waiting around the corner. She knew he was.
And just as she thought, there was Alex, a couple of houses down, sitting on the sidewalk, tapping his fingers against the concrete. She walked up to him and playfully kicked at his fingers.
“Alright. What’s going on?” she asked.
“We are here.”
“Here? Where’s here? What is this place?”
“Well. This is, my mom’s house,” he said slowly.
“Really?”
She looked up at the two-story home, and couldn’t look away. It was a gorgeous house, the exterior red brick with black shutters and white trim. The door was black as well, with a little black mailbox almost identical to Alex and Cady’s. Where the house number had once hung on the door was replaced by the same number, faded into the wood from age. Number 12.
“12 Mason Avenue,” Alex said softly, staring up at the house with her. His eyes traced the property and then picked out specific places, as if reliving memories one by one. In the front yard, beneath the big oak tree that shaded the house and half the street, was a tire swing whose chains had come loose.
“This is where you grew up,” Pollyanna said, the conclusion coming out of her mouth on its own accord. Alex nodded sadly.
“Yepp. This is my childhood home.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
He shook off whatever was bothering him and held out his hand to her. Easily, without a second thought, she slipped her hand into his and he lead her up the path to his mother’s house.
“Are we there yet?’ she asked.
He wondered if maybe they should’ve driven, but one look at Polly said she would have been asleep in the passenger seat as soon as she’d sat down. He needed her awake for this.
“Almost.”
“Can I sleep when I get there?”
“Nope,” he said softly, in that kind voice that he saved particularly for small children, like Millie’s grandkids or his own cousins. Or in this case, a drowsy Pollyanna who refused to fully wake up.
“Where are we going?” she grumbled, still holding Alex’s hand even though they weren’t crossing any street. She just honestly liked the feeling of his hand, warmly wrapped around hers. She liked the security of knowing that he had her, he’d hold onto her. Although, she was too tired to know that. All she could focus on was the warmth and Alex’s familiar smell.
“You’ll see.”
“Yeah, sure, I will. But I want to know now,” she complained, opening her eyes a bit wider, taking in their surroundings. She had to force herself not just slump into Alex and expect him to carry her, because to be honest, she tossed and turned all night on her little couch, the decision between Darren and Alex bouncing annoyingly around inside her head.
“I know you do. We’re almost there. I promise.”
“You’re talking to me like I’m five.”
“Finally caught on, did ya?” he chuckled but squeezed her hand comfortingly.
“I’m not five years old. I’m tired.”
“And you turn into a kindergartener when you’re tired,” Alex continue for her. She didn’t appreciate it.
“You’re not being nice.”
“I’m sorry. You’re adorable either way,” he said, grinning. She want to smack that smile, that smug smile that lit up his features with rare cockiness, right off his face. But she would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way that that smirk made one of his eyes crinkle. And she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way that when he smiled that, you could see his white, and slightly crooked teeth that fit his mouth perfectly. She’d be lying and that just wasn’t good.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said. He didn’t blush this time. No, this time, he merely bit his lip and looked towards traffic, judging how far away their destination was. “But seriously. Where are we going?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Really really want to know?”
“YES!”
“Are you positive?” he teased.
“OH MY GOD. Alex, I will kill you.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not a yes or no.”
“That’s it. You’re dead.”
She began to chase him down the street, their hands falling away from the other. He was leading her, unbeknownst to her, straight to their destination.
“Oh, you can run faster than that. Catch me if you can,” he said, jogging backwards. She glared at him and pushed herself faster. He turned and took off, his long legs taking him away faster than hers could catch up.
“Alex!” she yelled.
She could hear him laughing as he ran. He was slowing down before he turned off on some side street that Pollyanna had never been down before.
“Oh, I’m a kill him,” she muttered and slowed her pace. She knew he wouldn’t leave her behind like that. He was waiting around the corner. She knew he was.
And just as she thought, there was Alex, a couple of houses down, sitting on the sidewalk, tapping his fingers against the concrete. She walked up to him and playfully kicked at his fingers.
“Alright. What’s going on?” she asked.
“We are here.”
“Here? Where’s here? What is this place?”
“Well. This is, my mom’s house,” he said slowly.
“Really?”
She looked up at the two-story home, and couldn’t look away. It was a gorgeous house, the exterior red brick with black shutters and white trim. The door was black as well, with a little black mailbox almost identical to Alex and Cady’s. Where the house number had once hung on the door was replaced by the same number, faded into the wood from age. Number 12.
“12 Mason Avenue,” Alex said softly, staring up at the house with her. His eyes traced the property and then picked out specific places, as if reliving memories one by one. In the front yard, beneath the big oak tree that shaded the house and half the street, was a tire swing whose chains had come loose.
“This is where you grew up,” Pollyanna said, the conclusion coming out of her mouth on its own accord. Alex nodded sadly.
“Yepp. This is my childhood home.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
He shook off whatever was bothering him and held out his hand to her. Easily, without a second thought, she slipped her hand into his and he lead her up the path to his mother’s house.