The Room Just Down The Hall

In the winter, when the cold air is bitter and dry against tender, bare skin, It’s difficult to persuade myself to actually step away from hot water. But hot water, like most things, is just an illusion, a false promise full of disappointment. Everything leads to disappointment in the end in some form or another. In the case of hot water, sooner or later it must turn cold. And after about 2 hours of savoring every last sweet moment of heat as it slowly slipped away, I found myself shivering and naked in a porcelain tub, my skin wrinkled, goose bumps raised along my arms, and still decorated in the silky suds that now seemed annoying to me as I would just have to rinse them off so that I could get out of the bathroom, stop pretending that my problems don’t exist (as I’m sure everyone pretends when showering or taking a bath), and face the bitch that is reality. So, reluctantly, I did just that, trying to stop my small jaw from clattering my teeth together. The last thing I need is a chipped tooth. With a towel tucked tightly just underneath my arms, I stepped out into the hallway, then stopped. I couldn’t help stopping. From my brother’s room, sound was leaking out. I could hear the bold, solid crunch of chips being bitten into. I could hear the sound of a TV playing and some sports announcer reviewing a certain formation or play. I could hear the echo and ‘clip’ sound that an aluminum can of soda makes when you open it. I could hear the sound of movement; the brushing of legs and thighs on cushions, and the padding of feet against wooden paneling. But the thing that made me stop to listen was the sound of Frank’s voice. It was entrancing. When he opens his mouth, it never fails to steal my attention, and I never fail to feel a little empty when he closes it, like an addict who can’t get enough and will never be fully satisfied. I couldn’t even hear what he was saying, but I recognized the low laid back tone that he always used. Nothing like my brothers… Pretentious and loud, nothing more… Frank’s was so much more. But then I thought about how he had already caught me partially exposed twice now, and standing in the middle of the hallway, dripping, in a towel and nothing more, wasn’t exactly helping to decrease my chances of that happening a third time. So I hurried to my room to dry off and get dressed.

Winter was never my favorite time of the year. It’s cold, I always manage to get myself sick, and I never fail to slip on the ice that freezes in invisible layers over the pavement. But at least the wasps are dead for a while, we get school off, and snow is pretty…. These are the things that run through my mind as I sit perched on the little bed built into my bay window, watching the delicate white crystals fall in flurries to the ground through the foggy window pane. I wish I could be in the other room, draping my limps over the futon sloppily, talking about unimportant things while shoveling junk food into my mouth with the guys over in the next room. That would be pretty fucking rad. But even more so I wish Frank would just come over here and sit with me. Instead of pressing my cheek to the cool glass, I could lay it against his soft t-shirt. Instead of relying on this quilt tucked underneath my chin for warmth, I could borrow some of his…. I would return the favor later, I swear…

As if. I spend too much time pondering and imagining the possible. Frank is the superior. Why would he settle for me? Whatever… I think it’s time for sleep

Notes