The Hollow Days

The way she smiled when I asked her out made my heart melt at the same time that it made my palms get clammy. "I want to really take you out though, and make it special, okay?" I kiss her forehead tenderly. "I want to make your heart skip a beat because you're so shocked. In a good way, of course." I laugh a bit and she does, too, her arms still around me and mine around her.

Emma and I sit down to watch a movie in the living room afterwards and she decides on the Titanic. Of course. She lays with her head on my chest and I comb my fingers through her golden hair, content. We both are. I was realizing smaller things that I liked about her, like how her nose crinkled a little bit when she didn't like something, or even more so when she got angry. Or, how when something sad happens the right corner of her mouth sort of tugs down to the right as if her mouth was shrugging. And, the way she smiled when ever Jack and Rose looked into each other's eyes.

She looks up at me, smiling when she catches me looking at her. "What are you looking at?"

"You." I say quietly.

"How come?"

"You're beautiful." The heart rising to her cheeks was visible, and it made her skin glow with this radiance and it looked very lovely on her. I kiss her forehead gently for a moment and she turns her attention back to the movie with a sheepish chuckle.

"Uh huh."

My phone rings, and it's my mom. I answer it, pulling away from Emma only slightly. "Yeah?"

"You better get home. Your father wants to have a chat with you, Elliot. And he's...not happy, about your suspension. I've tried to calm him down, but I don't know what else I can do." She sounded frantic, and so worried for me. I was worried for me, too.

I tried not to let it show to Emma and pulled away from her. She pouts. "You have to leave already?"

"Yeah, my dad wants me home." I smile bleakly and kiss her quickly before walking out of her house with this sensation starting in the very tips of my toes and working its way up into my chest, warming me. Melting me. Thawing my heart, and bringing this quirky little smile on my face. I understood now what Cyrus felt, and I can understand why he would keep trying for this feeling, why he jumped at every chance he could get to have this feeling, this rush. It's like a high, but really I think it's just happiness.

All this time it's like I've been looking through a tinted glass, my vision so dark and blurry, maybe I wasn't looking hard enough. I don't have to, though, to see that my dad is not happy when I walk through the door. I close the door behind me, my eyes never leaving his as he speaks.

"Sit down."

"Yes sir." Our eye contact never breaks, it's like a test. I'm trying hard not to show fear, but I can't stop rubbing my hands on my pants because of how sweaty they were getting and how quickly.

"Where were you just now?" He clasps his hands together on his lap, leaning back in his chair with his box of cigars right next to him. You know it's bad when he gets his cigars out.

"My friend's house. I just thought I'd walk them home."

He raises an eyebrow, "them?"

I finally look down. "Her." And as I say it the room goes silent, and I hate it. My dad probably thought I was gay, or asexual. Or just not interested in girls, I guess. Maybe he thought I would just die alone. Maybe I thought so, too.

"How did you end up getting suspended?" He lights one of his cigars.

I try not to cough as that disgusting smell and smoke filled the room. "I beat up this kid who's been messing with me for the past couple of months."

"What did he do?"

I look back up at him blankly, wondering why he was suddenly taking an interest now. "He told me I killed him. Cyrus. Well, told everyone."

"And you couldn't just leave it alone, huh?"

"You always told me to stick up for myself." Breathe in.

"Not over something so stupid."

Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe -- "Stupid?" I stand up. "I'll tell you what's fucking stupid! The fact that a kid thought his life was so bad, that he didn't have a future, that he was in so much pain, that he felt that the only option he had was to take his own life!" My chest was beginning to rise and fall rapidly, but my breaths were coming in so short.

My dad's cigar hit the floor and it was so silent that I swear I heard a thud as he stood, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Alright, alright, Elliot. Sit down, it's okay." He pushed me down on the couch again gently. My hands went to my face, noticing it was wet. I just now realize that tears are streaming down my face but I can't feel myself crying. I feel numb. "I think you need a break from school anyways. I think you need a break."

I think you need a break.