Just look over your shoulder

Chapter 5 It’s only six days after Christmas and it’s been one of the hottest weeks ever on this island. Moving is exhausting, you feel sticky all the time and my eyes hurt like crazy thanks to the sun that burns down relentlessly twelve hours a day. There’s not a single cloud in the sky or even the hint of one. I don’t mind the heat as much as Gerard does, though. I fact, he’s like a whiny baby about it all. Right now, he’s lying down by the water not too far away from me, arms and legs stretched out like a sea star, where he found a sweet little spot in the shadow of a palm tree. Every now and then, I can hear him mutter things to himself like, “Gonna die,”, “Too hot,” and “This is it, we’re finally melting.” Every time he does it, I can’t help but grin and shake my head amused. I think he’s being cute and giving the circumstances, I let him complain. Not without being a teeny bit sassy about it, though. “Stop being overdramatic, Gee..” I call over my shoulder in his direction, not minding the smug tone in my voice. I take a quick glance at him, seeing that he hasn’t moved at all in the last 15 minutes, and smile to myself yet again. His hair, which desperately needs a cut, lies messily around his head and there are patches of sand lumps sticking to it. The only item of clothing he’s wearing is the brown leather loincloth and nothing else. Understandable, every extra layer would be torture. I, myself, are wearing his white button-up and the sun hat. I stole it from him this morning because I had nothing left and I’m glad that the shirt is kind of long-ish, because there wasn’t even any underwear for me to take. Gerard doesn’t need to know. “Too hot...” he mumbles again and I flash him a smile when he turns his head slightly in my direction before staring up at the sky again. I roll my eyes and let my lips curl up into a smirk one last time before returning to what I was doing before, which would be taking watch. You know, it can get pretty boring here, and if you don’t find anything that entertains you at least for a few hours every few days, you’ll go insane. I remember one time, a year or so after we got here, I was so bored that I built myself a hula-hoop out of wet wood that I curled, with Gerard’s help, around a big enough and hopefully round enough looking rock. After the wood had dried, I removed my creation and actually had fun playing with it until it broke in the middle after only two days, but it was fun while it lasted. Another time, I tried to dig a tunnel into the sand, but all I got, in the end, was a weirdly shaped hole with super cold and strange smelling mud at the bottom. It was cool to hide in there though and it kept me busy for a few hours. We could play soccer or tennis or baseball, but that would contain running around and moving more than necessary and neither of us wants that. A tiny cracking sound pulls me out of my thoughts and I stare down at the white eggs in the sand pit. A few days ago, I and Gerard discovered this turtle egg lair and sadly found out that the mother lay dead on the beach right by the water, tangled in masses of seagrass. So, without question, we accepted our duty and kind of became part-time parents and protected the eggs in separate shifts. I know that it isn’t necessary to protect them and it’s probably normal that the mother doesn’t stick around after laying the eggs, but then again, I don’t know how nature works in that regard and I like looking out for people and animals, Robin, for example, so why not spending time with this and doing something good? Actually, this happened before and we just watched in awe as the babies hatched and run towards the water without a second thought. I find it fascinating that those little creatures know how to swim from the second they poke their heads out of the eggshell and even more so that they can crawl so fast. “Gerard! I think the babies are hatching!” I call out and excitedly sit on my heels. A moment later, Gerard sits down next to me and looks in awe at the tiny baby turtle that cracks its way out of the white shell. There are at least 15 of them and now that one started to hatch, the others are following their sibling's task. “Look at them, Mikes, they’re so small!” Gerard says rapturous and carefully lifts Number One up and holds it in front of his eyes, the heat he was complaining about minutes ago completely forgotten. The baby rows its legs hastily and we both laugh thrilled. While Gerard admires his little turtle, I carefully take Number Two, who just got free, in my hands and say in an overly dramatic voice, “Your name shall be Pig and you have to win this fight for me, your mentor and part-time father Mister Michael James Way! You have to win against your brother..-“ I stop and look over at Gerard who looks confused for a second but quickly catches on and says, with a huge smile on his face, “Lola!”. “-Lola, well, your sister I guess- so I will win against my stupid brother and claim victory over this island!” Gerard accepts the game with a challenging look and we both get into position, directed to the ocean. We nod at each other and then Gerard says: “Turtle Masters and Baby Turtle Warriors, get ready in position to defend our victory in three, two, one- and GO!” And then, after we carefully sat them down on the sand, our turtles crawl, pretty fast actually, down to the water where they can swim away into freedom and find their new homes. “Go Pig, you can do it! Make your mentor proud!” I cheer and crawl on hands and knees after my baby turtle. “No Lola- No that’s the wrong direction, don’t you know your instincts at all!?” I hear Gerard whine a few steps behind me and when I turn around, his little representative apparently decided that it wants to go back to where some of his other siblings are still in the eggs. Shortly after mine is now following three more, who are crawling in baby steps into freedom. “C’mon Pig, we’re winning, keep going keep going! Wohoooooooooo!!!!” I scream because my turtle did indeed just hit the water and now tries its first wobbly swimming pulls before diving under and disappearing into the ocean ahead of him. Carefully, so I don’t step on the others, I let myself fall on my back and kick my arms and legs into the air in victory, not caring how ridiculous I must look. I’m still cheering when Gerard finally crawls down the few meters to the water to where I am sprawled on the wet sand, shoving tiny grains of sand into my face in the process thanks to his not so graceful movements. “Don’t worry Lola, I get it. It’s way too warm to function correctly. Not all of us are resistant to the heat, am I right Mikey?” he says in a sulky tone and when I decide that I cheered enough for myself, I sit up, brush the sand out of my face and see that he’s sitting there like a grumpy child with his arms crossed and patches of sand on his knees and elbows. Lola just dove under and now follows Pig to wherever it drags them. “Not all of us can be sun-hating Vampires, am I right Gee?” I say smugly and giggle when Gerard gets ready to slap me on the arm but I’m quicker and get up to make space for the rest of the baby turtles, who are crawling their way down to the water. Gerard does the same and actually holds his hand out for me to shake it. Now, this could be a trap. It’s not his nature to accept a loss without at least complaining about it. I suspiciously look him up and down a few times, but he looks sincere so I carefully stretch my hand out to shake his. After a moment, his grip tightens and his lips curl into an evil smirk. “Think I let my baby brother win that easily?” he sneers, and before I get a chance to respond, he grips my hand even tighter and turns me around in a quick move so that I’m standing with my back to his chest. “What are you- ouff!” I try to ask, but then Gerard puts both of his arms around my belly and lifts me up completely and carries me deep into the water. “NO! Gerard I swear don’t throw me, please I’m still wearing my-“ but the next thing I know is that he laughs devilishly and throws me into the water with my clothes still on. When I can manage to swim to the surface, I see that Gerard joined, as well in his underpants, and splashes happily around. At first, I think about tackling him down for nearly drowning me, but he looks so carefree at that moment that I can’t be really mad at him. So what I’m doing instead is swimming towards him and stopping right in front of him with a huge smile. Gerard smiles back hugely and beams when he says, “In for a ride?” I beam just as much at him and say, “Hell yeah I am!” before awkwardly trying to get a hold on his shoulders. “Wrap your legs around my waist or else you’ll fall,” he giggles and giggles, even more, when I wrap my legs around him and cross my ankles for better support. Then I tuck my face in his neck, which is kind of complicated thanks to the hat that’s dripping with water and wrap my arms around his neck as well. I know what’s coming next. “Hold your breath!” Gerard announces and when we both catch air, he dives under and swims towards the beach. We could swim blindly because we know every inch of this island and reef, but it’s way more fun to keep our eyes open and watch the fishes and corals floating by and feel them tickling our skin. Gerard swims in strong pulls under the water and tiny bubbles of air tickle my face, making me grin so that salty water floats through my teeth, but it’s okay, it doesn’t really bother me. The temperature of the water down here is genuinely pleasant and cools our over-heated skin down in only a few seconds. When the water is low enough so we can easily stand again, I loosen my grip in the same second that he pops up on the surface, where we cross the last tiny turtle that finally found its way to freedom. “That was fun!” I say when we’re both on the beach again, both of us dripping from head to toe. “Yeah but it’s still not fair that Lola wasn’t used to the heat. She’s only a baby, there was no way she could have known what was waiting for her out here,” Gerard complains and shakes his head like a dog in order to dry his hair. “Whatever, I still won,” I say after removing my hat and am just about to shrug off the blouse when I remember that I’m not wearing anything under it. Gerard notices and singsongs, “What’s the matter Twee? You embarrassed?” I am, in fact, a little embarrassed, but he doesn’t need to know that. “No? We look just the same and you walk around naked all you want most days so what should I be ashamed of..” Of course, I’m blushing, thanks to my annoying older brother who smirks at me as if I didn’t just say something reasonable. Now I’m even more embarrassed, but I won’t give him that much of credit, so instead, I shrug and pull that damned blouse over my head in one swift motion. Gerard, it seems, didn’t expect me to do so because his eyes widen and then he looks away quickly. I find that quite amusing, to be honest, it feels good to be the one making him act weird for a change. “I have to put it in the sun for a while because I don’t have anything else so if you feel uncomfortable you maybe shouldn’t be around me for the next hour,” I say, trying to keep the nervous jitters out of my voice and try to grin instead and make my way towards the laundry station. You see, normally when one of us is naked, we just don’t talk about it because it isn’t really that big a deal, but lately, Gerard thought it would be hilarious to tease me about my body since it ‘changed’ so much, as he would sometimes say. I don’t think that’s fair because he’s a boy just as much as I am and his body changed the same way and I never made fun of him because of it. I know my voice is kind of different now and often croaks when I speak in higher octaves and I know I have those weird hairs on my body now, but so does he but instead of just letting it drop, he teases me about it whenever he gets the chance. Whatever. I’m not saying that I’m not looking at him sometimes, like when he changes or just got out of the ocean or whatever, because I do (though I would never admit it to him), but I know he looks too, which is bizarre to me because if he finds body hair so interesting, he could just look at himself. I’m new to this and he isn’t, so I’m allowed to look, right? - After lying in the sun for a while and waiting for my blouse to dry, I decide to go make dinner. Apparently, Gerard was indeed uncomfortable around me because I haven’t seen him since he teased me earlier. Now that I’m back in the house though, I can hear him rummaging in our room, probably cleaning up or something. It’s still hot and now that it’s getting late, the air feels kind of humid and stuffy. As I’m standing in front of our stocks in the basement, I come to realize that we haven’t had anything to eat since this morning. Now that I’m standing in front of all the food though, I realize how super hungry I am and my belly growls for attention. Cooking would take too long and we don’t have any fish in stock anyway. A big bowl of pickled mango catches my eye. The last time we had Mango was a while ago and I’m wondering if it’s still eatable, but when I take it out of the shelf and check it for possible mold, I can’t see any. It does, in fact, smell really good still. Not as sweet as fresh mango would smell, but still good enough to make my belly growl again. It does taste strange. Like, seriously, mango shouldn’t taste like that. It’s not sweet and fruity, but bitter and kind of prickly against my tongue and after swallowing it and slurping some of the juice we potted it in, my throat burns and then my belly. The feeling is gone as quickly as it came and now that my stomach received food, it wants more. I’m not even surprised that I eat three more slices and drink half the juice because after you swallowed the first bit, it doesn’t actually taste too strange, you know? I would eat the entire bowl if I could, but I have to be fair and let something left for Gerard. I’m wondering if he finds that it tastes strange. If not, I’ll just eat it. When I’m trying to climb the staircase a few minutes later that leads to the first floor, my head suddenly starts to swim and I miss the first step twice before finally managing to climb up with the bowl precariously in my other hand that’s not clutching the rail. When I finally reach our room after what feels like an hour, my head spins so much that I trip and fall down, butt first, on the floor. It kind of hurts, but apparently my brain never found anything funnier and I managed not to spill the mango slices on the floor, so what I’m doing is laughing. And I mean hysterically. Gerard, who stands about a meter away from where I am on the floor, just looks puzzled and kind of confused at my outburst. That makes me laugh even more. “Uhm, Mikes?” I hear him say over my laughter. “You gotta try these, they’re so yummy Gerard. They’ll make your belly feel so warm!” I giggle and hold the bowl up with both hands so he can grab it. When he takes it after a moment of hesitance and raised eyebrows, I let myself fall flat on my back and clutch my poor belly that hurts now that I laughed so much in such a short amount time. - “’M tellin’ you Gee, Lindsey Ballato had a total crush on you!” “No, she did not! And even if, who was Mr. Casanova in elementary school and had a dozen of girls running after them?” “So, what, I never liked Sarah or Alicia or Kristin anyways, they annoyed me! And you’re just jealous because your little kid brother was so popular, m’ I right?” “Pfft, lier!” “Jeeaalous…” Okay. I don’t know what was in that pickled mango, but whatever it was, seriously made me and Gerard say the stupidest things and act like maniacs. Gerard hesitated for only a second before shrugging and stuffing his mouth with the leftover slices I gave him and then his eyes went big and he clutched his throat and belly after swallowing. He stood there for several minutes and then shook his head and smirked down at me, helped me up from where I was still lying spread on the floor to drag me out of the house. After that, it was just a weird combination of running around and chasing each other, tripping and falling over too many times, getting laugh flash after laugh flash, pulling stupid faces that were so funny that we couldn’t breathe properly and slurred sentences that made no sense at all. What a scenario of events in just one day. This went on for about two hours before we decided to take a break and lay down on the sand beside the stairs that lead to the first floor. It’s still crazy hot despite now that the sun is setting and even down here in the shadows, the sand is warm and everything spins when I close my eyes. Judging by Gerard, who squints his eyes every so often, he feels the same way. “So maybe I was jealous,” Gerard states after neither of us had spoken for a little while. For a second I’m confused as to what he’s referring to, but then my brain gets the message and quickly catches interest; I change my position from lying on the ground, spread like an eagle, to getting up on one elbow so I can look at him properly. “For real?” I ask and try to steady myself a little more on the slippery sand, ignoring that my voice breaks on the last syllable. His eyes are closed but he peeks one eye open and looks up at me before grinning and shoving me over with his hand. “Hey! What was that for?” I squeak awkwardly and mentally slap myself because apparently, my voice has a mind of its own. My head seriously spins at that point and I feel tipsy and I’ve already forgotten what we were talking about when Gerard gets up suddenly, maybe a little unsteady, and pulls me up on the arms with a honky laugh. He looks me up and down in a bizarre way a few times with that evil smirk still plastered on his face before grabbing me roughly on the hip with one hand and sticking two fingers inside the chest pocket of the blouse that I’m wearing yet again. Then, in a swift but also uncoordinated move, he pushes me up against the trunk of the palm tree where we cave in the notches. It all happens a bit too quickly for my head to adjust and when I can focus again where I am, he’s pressed up against me from chest to knee and grins at me with a light blush on his cheeks. “Ouch,” I say, because, ouch! Now that I can focus again, he did shove me a bit too rough against the tree. His expression softens a bit and he slurring, “Sorry,” before starting to run both his hands up and down my sides, shoving the cotton of the blouse up and down in the act. “Did I hurt you?” “Not much,” I say and return his light smile. And then, all of a sudden, I’m brutally aware of his palms on my hips and ribs and his breath on my cheeks, which kind of smells a little bitter, owing to the strange mango he ate earlier. I’m figuring my breath must smell the same and I’m wondering if it drives him as much crazy as it drives me crazy. And I don’t mean crazy in a nauseating way, but more like in a very strangely pleasant kind of way. What’s wrong with me? This is the most ridiculous thought I have ever had! While I’m standing stock still, my eyes never leaving his, his hands wander up and down my sides a few more times before sliding higher and then one of his hands disappears into my hair and the other slips under my left armpit awkwardly. It tickles at first but I don’t even have time to let a giggle or laugh arise before he says, sounding kind of helpless, “You,- you wouldn’t know..” “Wouldn’t know what?” I breathe out shakily as his fingertips stroke over my scalp and I can feel Goosebumps forming on my arms and the back of my neck. He considers this for a moment until he pinches his eyes shut and leans his forehead against mine. “Sometimes you look so..it’s so difficult sometimes not to-“ “Not to what?” All this nonsense is driving me nuts and my body is going crazy too; I feel like I broke out a sweat and my legs are tremulous and my heart beats so fast that I’m getting dizzier by the second. What’s worse though, is my belly. It’s doing that swoopy thing again but this time it feels ten times worse and every time Gerard says something or strokes over my skin or even just looks at me, my entire belly drops out. My brain tries to tell me something, I can feel it, but it’s not coming through the fog that’s occupied most of my brain cells, so in a frustrated movement, I tip my face forward a bit and immediately crash against Gerard’s cheek with my nose. The smell of bitterness is even stronger now and my mind goes bedlam. I’m about to fall over, so in a poor attempt not to, I quickly grab him on his upper arms and manage to only fall forward a step. A tiny weeping sound leaves his throat and his hand in my hair tightens weirdly alluring. Now it’s my turn to squeeze my eyes shut. “Mikey,” he whispers, his breath mingling with my own now that he’s so impossibly close. My mouth doesn’t seem functional like it lost the ability to talk because all I do is breathe in and out very fast. Then, suddenly, he lets his head drop to my neck in the same moment that his left-hand slips down to my hip again. Automatically, my head falls back against the tree trunk and I have to swallow hard as I feel first his nose and then his lips pressing down against the juncture of my neck and shoulder. This is too much. I feel like my body is about to explode. I’m not used to this kind of sensation. “What are you doing?” I try to ask as steady as possible but it comes out in a whispery breath. I’m about to shove him away when my entire body freezes at the feeling of something hard lined up right under my bellybutton. Gerard seems to notice in the exact same second as me because he shrieks and pulls away from my embrace entirely. The light flush on his cheeks extended to a full-on flush that seems to even spread down to his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly and covers his face with his hands, dropping his head in the process. His breathing is still as fast as my own and now that I get to look at him from a few inches away, I notice that he’s shaking. His hair is sticking up in all directions, his shoulders heave up and down hard and his toes are curled inwards. I also notice that his underpants have, in fact, adopted a weird shape which I’m figuring must have been what I just felt on my belly. My face heats up even more at that. It is not very polite to look as obvious as I am right now at someone’s private parts and I abashed turn my head to the side so I can’t betray myself by looking anymore. I don’t understand this. I have never seen this happening to him before or to anyone at all and I don’t know what to do or say to make this situation better. “I’m sorry,” he says again and balls his hands into fists against his eyes. He looks so mortified and it’s all because of me. I’m angry and mad and confused and my head still feels foggy and tipsy and my belly is going nuts as well as my heartbeat. On one hand, I want to walk away as fast as possible and never talk about any of this again, just because I don’t know what’s happening, but on the other hand, I want nothing more than his hands on me again. My lumbar areas feel so tingly and hot in a way they never felt before. But this isn’t about me and my confused feelings right now, because he’s obviously distressed and needs comfort. I can’t stand seeing him like this and suddenly I don’t care about his weird body reactions anymore, I just pull him into a tight hug and hold him as close as possible. He stumbles a little but seems to let me. He doesn’t return the hug in the way he usually would, though. He just stands there and lets me hold him. “I don’t understand,” I finally admit in a hush and feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment, obviously referring to what I just saw. Something tells me that this must be something really private if it makes him act like that. I feel him shake his head against my shoulder and then he says, very quietly and kind of out of context, “You can’t be mad at me.” This, once again, confuses me. “’M not,” I say because I am not. He didn’t do anything wrong. “My head kinda hurts..” he slurs and sighs miserably. I nod dumbly because I don’t know what else to say. I’m getting a headache myself and I’m promising to any God that might be up there that I’ll never eat old, sunburned fruit again in my entire life. Maybe it was stale and we poisoned ourselves after all. Then I decide to kiss him on the hair, just because it feels right at this moment. “C’mon, we should go get ready for bed, okay?” I say and try to sound as gentle as possible. He nods against my shoulder before finally pulling back. He won’t look me in the eyes as he did before but instead looks on the ground which I’m kind of thankful for at the moment because I don’t want him to see my face like that. The flush hasn’t really subsided yet and I don’t want to look feeble in his eyes. It’s gotten really dark now and the crickets chirp happily in the humid air of the night as we slowly make our way to our room. - Though I’m super tired and exhausted and have a giant headache, I can’t seem to find sleep. Not much like my brother, who fell asleep five minutes after we lay down. I still feel Gerard’s lips on my neck, though they were there for only a few seconds. That, and the memory of his breath on my face and the way his hands felt on my body, make my heart beat faster and as much as I’m trying not to, I can’t help but also think about the way his underpants looked, giving a rare idea of what must be happening inside of them. Why did it happen though? And why in that moment? Does that happen a lot to him? Does it have something to do with the strange way I felt in my loins? Does it hurt? That would explain why he clutched at his face and made that weird whiny sound. But then again... He did press me against the tree trunk first and though I couldn’t read his expression, he did seem to enjoy himself. Did I enjoy it? The way he pinned me against the trunk or how his hand felt in my hair or how close he was? Did I like the feel of his lips on a part of my skin where they never were before and I certainly never imagined them to be? It frightens me to admit it, but yes. I did enjoy it, if in a way that is foreign and strange to me. What does this mean now? And did he mean it when he said he was jealous of the girls who were after me in elementary school? Thinking back, he never seemed bothered by it, only teased me about it from time to time. I was young though, so how could I possibly distinguish between jealousy and teasing? There are so many things I don’t understand and it’s exhausting to know that I’ll probably never understand any of this. Who could I ask? Gerard, who immediately shuts down as soon as I bring topics like this up? I sigh and try to lose track of these thoughts but to no avail. After another hour of staring at the ceiling and listening to Gerard’s regular breathing, I decided to give up on trying to fall asleep. If my body doesn’t want to, I can’t force it to, can I? Carefully, so I won’t wake him, I slip out of the mosquito net and tip-toe to Gerard’s old room where we now store the clothes. The only item I can find in the dark is the blouse I threw on the ground earlier and pull it back on, not bothering to button it up all the way. I quietly make my way down the stairs and out of the house, down to the beach and make myself comfortable on a big rock by the reef. The moon shines bright tonight and there are no waves crashing on the beach. It’s very quiet and peaceful out here actually, and the fresh, though still warm air, helps me clear my head. I don’t feel dizzy and tipsy anymore and I’m thankful for that because it’s a strange feeling not to be in charge of your own thoughts and actions. Not that I couldn’t control either, but it was certainly difficult and seemed unimportant at the time so I let my mind and body do whatever they wanted. Now that my head is aired out a little, I remember how father often acted when he came home late in the evening and smelled like alcohol and cigarettes. Alcohol.. we surely did not consume alcohol, right? All we did was eating a small, innocent mango that may or may not lay in the heat for a while too long. Whatever it was, I blame my stomach. If it wouldn’t have made those sounds and made me hungry, well then, I wouldn’t have eaten obviously stale food. I’m just glad it didn’t make me sick. That would have sucked extra on top of all things. “Hey,” a voice says behind me and I startle. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing here?” Gerard asks and sits down next to me on the rock, wearing nothing but the thin sheet that we use as a blanket. He pulls it up higher and over his shoulders as soon as he settled down in a comfortable position. All I want to know is what happened earlier and if he would have kissed me on the mouth if I’d asked him to and like I long for right now, or if he really was jealous and what would happen next, but I just can’t bring myself to ask any of these things. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable again or in believe that he should be ashamed of what had happened. When did I start making up excuses when it came to my own brother? It was never like this before and I’m mad at my own thinking. This is not how it should be. Bothers should be able to talk about everything without thinking about consequences. The biggest consequence would be that he would move back to his old room again, and if that would happen, everything that we built up so carefully over the last few months would be shattered and I cannot let that happen. So instead, I simply say quietly, “Couldn’t sleep.” It’s not a lie but it’s not the whole truth either. Gerard seems to accept my lame excuse and nods before looking back at the ocean where he was looking before. I pull my legs up and rest my chin on my knees, looking in the same direction as him. “Does it bother you that we live here?” Gerard asks after a while, voice just loud enough for me to hear in the quiet night. “No,” I say honestly and without much hesitation because it doesn’t. It never bothered me to be here with him. He doesn’t say anything to that, so I ask concerned, “Does it bother you?” Now I turn my head back in his direction, looking closely and searching his face, that is gleaming bluely by the moon, for concern. He looks deep in thoughts and then says, to my complete and utter surprise, “No,” but offering nothing more. I always thought he hated it here and wanted to get away from this island as soon as possible. Maybe I was wrong in my thinking all these years. “I miss them, though,” he whispers, still not looking in my direction. He doesn’t let me know who he is missing, but it’s not like I can’t guess. Thinking about home makes me sad and he’s obviously upset about it right now, which makes me sad in return. We had such a fun day, I don’t want it to end like that. “C’mere,” I say gently and shuffle closer to his side. He sighs sadly and does the same until we’re sitting pressed up from hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder next to each other. I put one arm around his shoulders and make him rest his head on my shoulder and when he does, I slip my other hand under the blanket to where his hands are clutching at the sheet. I tangle my hand in one of his and lean a bit more into him. After a while, I feel him turn his head a little more into my neck and a second later, I discover two wet spots on my blouse where his eyes must be leaking. There could be many reasons for him to cry at that moment, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, he needs to let it out and I’m right here to hold him. He doesn’t tell me the reason and I don’t ask, but slowly rock him back and forth and try to offer comforting words and shushes against his hair. He smells like warm sun and salt water and there’s also this very special note to it that can only be described as Gerard. It’s comforting in its own way and it makes me emotional on a peculiar level. I don’t allow myself to cry as well, he doesn’t need that right now, but it surely is a close thing. “I’m so confused,” he finally admits into the dark night and sniffles as I pat over his neck and hair soothingly. Then I nod against his head and say, “Me too, Gee,” because that’s exactly how I’m feeling about everything lately. It’s a frightening feeling, but knowing that I’m not alone in this lessens that unpleasant feeling. At least a little bit.

Notes