The Pros and Cons of Breathing

At Landon's insistence, we brought out food and our homework to study in the fort. I had been hoping that I could just give him a quick tour and we would head back inside, tree house forgotten. No dice. My insides shook as we trekked across my backyard to the edge of the woods, Landon just a step behind me so he wouldn't catch me freaking out.

The small picket fence, overgrown with wild brush and flowers came into view. Memories of my dad leading me out here, swinging my hand in his as we walked excitedly towards our next big adventure. We would always play fairytale scenes. I would play the princess, trapped inside my treehouse tower, guarded by an evil, fire-breathing dragon. My dad would play the king come to rescue his daughter. "Because you shouldn't let a prince do a king's job," he would always say, believing that he could never trust a knight in shining armor to rescue me.

I peeked over at Landon, wondering what my father would think of him and almost tearing up at the thought that my dad would never meet him. It knocked the wind out of me. But I was used to these little realizations by now, so I pressed on. I placed my hand on the latch of the gate.

"Just a warning," I stopped and cleared my throat when my voice cracked. No need to let Landon think I'm an over-emotional girl. He had already seen me cry and lose my shit enough; I had to tone it down. "I haven't been out here in years, so I don't know what kind of state it's in."

As if he knew how I was feeling, despite my effort to remain composed, Landon quietly placed his hand on top of mine as it pulled the gate open. He didn't say anything to me, instead he stood spoke all the words he couldn't form through the tender look in his eye. I don't know how or why, but he always saw more than I thought I was sharing, and understood.

He climbed the ladder first, and I handed him the bags and drinks when he turned around and reached for them. As I climbed up and took my time finding a spot to sit, Landon looked around. The tree house was a small box of a house with a window and a door, but there was a large platform that served as the porch that I chose to sit out on.

"This must have been your favorite place growing up." Landon commented as he stooped to exit through the door of the house. It would have been a hilarious sight watching him crouching inside the miniature home. A true giant in comparison. But my heart was in my stomach as I thought of another giant crouching in that same fort.

"Hey," Landon scooted next to me, "if you don't want to be here, we can go back inside."

I let out a deep breath and shook my head. "Sorry, I just haven't been in here for a while," I apologized.

Nodding his head, but obviously not wanting to push the subject, Landon began pulling food out of the Panda Express bag. I gave him a grateful smile and stabbed a mushroom with my plastic fork.

"So did you move here from Louisville?" I asked, trying to move conversation in a different direction.

"Yeah, my mom got a job here at Hardin Memorial." He replied after a mouthful of noodles.

"Oh really? What does she door? Doctor? Nurse?"

"Nurse." I smirked as he said this with his mouth full.

I took my own small bite of chicken. "Is it just the two of you?"

Landon nodded, "Yup. Only child. Dad left when I was a baby. My mom has overcome a lot of obstacles to raise me. She's my hero." His stare was unwavering. I swallowed.

Opening the nearest textbook, I decided it would be easier to talk about school, at least for the moment. It wasn't nearly as painful as the thought of growing up without a dad. Or the realization that other people have too. Following my lead, Landon turned back to his food with a frown.

"Have you done your art collage?" I asked, still unsure about my topic. Maybe hearing Landon's ideas would help spark my own inspiration.

He nodded.

"What are you doing it on? About you, or about something important to you?"

"Something important to me." He replied with a strange gleam in his eye. I blushed and gazed down. We continued to work for about a half hour when Landon groaned loudly and tossed his textbook to the side. I gazed up at him from my trig homework with a curious glance. "I'm tired of school." He mumbled.

Landon then scooted so that he could lay down flat on the wooden floor, using his backpack as a pillow. He patted the space next to him without looking at me. Biting my grin back, I eagerly tossed aside my work, too. As I tucked my own book bag under my head, I felt his fingers snake between mine at my side.

Even though Landon was doing his best not to say anything or pry, I knew he was waiting for me to explain my antsy behavior. The fact that he would be so calm and accepting of my silence was a weight on my chest that made me want to share with him. He just seemed like someone I could trust. Someone that wouldn't judge me.

I let out a long, slow breath before I spoke, "My dad built this fort for me. We played here throughout my childhood until…." My breath hitched and I cleared my throat to continue, "He was deployed to Iraq. He… never made it home."

Instead of the quiet, awkward murmur of apology I had grown accustomed to, Landon merely squeezed my hand in acknowledgement and what also felt like… understanding. I knew he wasn't like everyone else, but he had a habit of reminding me when I needed it.

I didn't continue with my story. I didn't need to. We just stayed there, hands linked, staring up at the clouds. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, but I kind of liked the mystery. He gave me another gentle squeeze of my hand, as if reassuring me that he was still there with me. I hoped he would never leave.