The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

“Be ready in five minutes,” was stuck in the back of my mind as I brushed my teeth and hair, threw on some make-up and put on a pair of jean shorts, worn and fading. All my shirts were baggy, so I decided to wear a tank-top instead. Of course, this wasn’t anything you weren’t used to.. I wore shorts and tank-tops all the time whenever it was nice out. Be ready in five minutes, be ready in five minutes.. I was ready, alright. Running my long fingers through my red hair, I grabbed my cell phone and slipped out of my house.

Meet me at the tree, Joey, I sent to you, the text message sending in a nanosecond. Not long after you replied with a simple see you then! with that silly little smiley face you put after most of the sentences you send me in texts. To be frank, I quite liked them. Margo, my father’s girlfriend, was sitting in the kitchen reading some magazine with computer-edited models in the recent trends and styles which I never really followed in the sticky pages.

“Where’re you goin’, sweets?” The blonde lady asked, a polite smile on her face as she watched me grab an orange. I always smelt like oranges, you said, and that made certain things I touched smell sweet. I shrugged, a simple gesture.

“Out. To.. The park, I’m thinking about meeting up with Joey, ya’know? Haven’t been around him in a week, that’s.. Bad in best friend world,” I replied, a slight laugh emitting from my throat. Margo laughed back, turning the page as she rose one of her neatly-waxed darkened blonde eyebrows.

“Huh.. I still say you have a bit of a crush, Ella. Oh wait, seventeen year olds don’t use the word ‘crushes’ anymore,” the woman replied. I liked Margo, way better than my mom and certainly better than the tramps my father brought home years ago before he finally got it right with the saleswoman for a jewelry store.

“I do not, shut up. He’s my friend, best friend, that has been there for me since I was eight,” I quickly dismissed the possibility of me ever having feelings for you before I thought about it too hard. “I’ll see you later, Marg,” and just like that the conversation dissipated and I sauntered out of the house like a penguin waddled out of the ocean.

My journey down the slightly inclined sidewalk didn’t take too long until the huge oak tree was in sight. I finished the last part of my orange, spat out the seed, and headed toward your familiar brunette head. “My, my, what do we have ‘ere? Joseph Andrew Michelson, pleasure to see ya’ll here in the midst of this unbearable heat!” I pretended to fan myself with my pale hand, smiling as you turned around with a big grin on your face.

“Why, if it ain’t little miss Ellenor Louise Bishop! Say, what’s a fine young lady doin’ out here in the open where bandits can get her?” You replied, walking over to me and grabbing my hand to twirl me around like they did in those fancy black and white movies.

“Okay, enough with this bullshit… My mind can take so much before it goes into self-destruction. How have you been on this fine day of summer?” Was my reply to that, smiling more as you dropped my hand and put a toothpick in your mouth; your habit of chewing on a toothpick was never hidden.

“I’m… Okay. Decent, sure. Ready to go visit Evan?” The way you let your pearly-white teeth shine through your smirk was beyond me, how could anyone get that white of teeth? I just nodded, shoving my hands in my pockets as you headed further down the sidewalk toward the direction of the old bridge.