Breaking Suburbia

“Maggie, what on Earth is stopping you?”

“That mutt.” She slurred, eyes squinting with disdain at the short haired, stocky built animal meant for lethal attack.

Chester frowned, staring at his companion with a sort of unruly affection that made Maggie sick to her stomach. “Well, why don’t I meet you in thirty minutes at this gate without my mutt and we’ll talk this mess out?” Chester suggested.

Maggie wanted to scream there was no mess to sort out, that she wasn’t interested in a date, much less any interaction with another living human being. Yet, these were wants, and she still had to abide by the rules of social conformity. “Sure. Whatever.” She slammed the window shut.

Watching him walk away, a bit faster than she would’ve thought. As her eyes traveled with the figure, Maggie noticed how tightly her arms had weaved their way around her chest. She didn’t budge though until the figure had disappeared.

Swaying into her bedroom and aggressively began strangling her mane of hair. Maggie had thirty minutes to get ready and mentally prepare herself for the events of today. Somehow, she managed to make it outside fully dressed with a becoming bag draped across her body within the course of twenty minutes. Now, she was left to her thoughts and the sound of her toe tapping along with the symphony of summer.

Chester came back, and instead of his athletic wear, he had thrown on a generally unimpressive white shirt. Maggie didn’t mind at all, she wasn’t all that entirely impressionable herself. “Are you scared of dogs or something?” He calmly interjected across the hedge as he made his way to the gate. His eyes made no contact with hers, no one could tell they were talking if they so happened to glance

“Does it matter?” She sighed. Social interaction was already beginning to exhaust her, along with the not-so-subtle rays hitting the back of her neck.

“God forbid I try to make a conversation with you.” Chester huffed. Maggie’s fingers poked at the keypad to unlock the gate. Tongue between her front teeth, she restrained from letting the whirlwind unleash. This was suburbia. Suburbia is all about being strictly uniform and hiding all of the unhappiness and abnormalities in the comfort of a home decorated like a Pier One catalog. As much as Maggie was grateful for her easy life, she always seemed to think she could prosper in the projects.

“Chester, you don’t know me.” Maggie shut the gate behind her.

“And you’re not really giving me the chance.”

“Where are we going?” Maggie crossed her arms around her chest, leaning up against the hot iron of the intricate gate.

“I thought I’d get you breakfast or something.” Chester stared at the concrete. Maggie could sense his uneasiness. “Or do mysterious girls like you even eat breakfast?”

Maggie chuckled, nodding her head. She liked that he could joke about ‘it’ like she did consistently. “No, we live off of Morrissey.”

“Is that so?” He snickered.

So the couple made their ways down the sidewalk. Maggie had an idea of where they were going, but she kept quiet as they walked in a comfortable silence that was only broken by meaningless small talk. Their hands even brushed together (though they’d never admit it) and their footing began to match one another’s. As much as Maggie hated to admit, Chester had that personality that latches onto people and reins them in. Like a magnet, like a pulley, there were so many things that she was comparing Chester to that it bordered on dehumanization. Maggie shook her head; thankful he didn’t pick up on the private notion, and reminded herself that she needed to live in this moment and not her elaborate mental blueprints.

There was always something about that music shop and the boy that jumped over the beat up countertops of the establishment. And for the first time in a long time, the spark of curiosity in Maggie burned with the heat of the summer sun beckoning across the sky of the town.