The Things We Wanted Most

The rest of the day I was in a daze, not completely understanding why in an instant I felt safe with hon. A perfect stranger. I finished the dishes and even vacuumed the downstairs. I found myself starting at my ceiling in my room. I had the Beatles album titled "Abbey Road" on repeat. My window was wide open, allowing a cool breeze to enter. It was going on 8 o'clock and I knew I had at least 7 hours until my "dad" was home. I always take advantage of that. By staying up late and doing nothing. Or doing my homework. Dad doesn't know it but I have been doing some online college courses. So I normally do all of that work at night our at work. I work in a small finger downtown. I take the morning shifts from 6 to 11. The pay is crap and the other workers are creepers, but it will help me leave one day so that's all that matters.

I have been working there since my sophomore year of high school. I had saved over 13,000 dollars in tips and pay checks. But I would need to get a place to stay, I would back up money for my car and still be able to survive while I looked for a job. I wanted to go somewhere far away.

Something hitting the top of my window, broke me out of my head. I looked over at the window, confusion etching my features. The house across from us was lit up, the window directly parallel to mine was open and in the middle of the entry way stood Micheal. He waved at me and smiled, showing slight dimples. I cocked my head to the side, much like a puppy would when questioning a human. He held up one finger, the universal sign for "one minute". I watched from my perch on the window seat as he rooted around in a box. He turned back to me, so I looked down at my legs. I looked back up as he threw something else at my window.

He was holding up a notebook that had markings on it. My eyes swept across the page reading what he had written.

"The Beatles huh?" I thought about what he had written. There would be no harm to me if I answered him back. Right? I stood up, walking over to my closet, which was out of view from my window. I found a notebook with plenty of paper. I grabbed the minty green sharpie from my desk and turned back towards the window. Quickly writing my response down, I face the page towards the window.

"I like the classics." He laughed as he read it, which caused me to blush. I waited as he wrote something else down.

"You would love my collection then." I looked down at my lap again. Should I let my walls down, let him in? Of course not. You have to stick to the plan. Nobody can distract you, not even cute boys with dimples and tattoos. Even if he feels different. I heard a tap on my window.

"You don't have to be afraid of me." His hand writing scratchy. It matched his voice. I sighed, closing the blinds. I wrote one last thing, leaving my notebook in the window, so it was trapped in between the glass and the blinds.

"I have to be afraid of everything."

I shut off my music and get into my bed.