herein lies

[ghostinmyblood]

We come across a gravel road flooded with rushing water from the spring flood season. The truck runs idly while I stare out the passenger seat window, out to the endless field of yellowed brown cornstalks and dead space.

He leans against the other truck, talking to our friends through the rolled-down window. I wonder if we'll take a different path or attempt to drive through the new river.

In the end, we swing around and return the way we came, down that long gravel road to reach the highway. Our trucks race side-by-side until the other truck overtakes us, nearly sliding into us. He pulls the brakes and smiles at me, bandana wrapped around his forehead and eyes fevered with the thrill of the race.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I dunno, he says he knows a place."

[ghostinmyblood]

"Do you wonder how many conversations we had that we didn't actually have, and we were just dreaming so vividly at the time, and those conversations shaped our relationship?"

[ghostinmyblood]

It was the Ides of March when we crashed the truck in a dark cornfield.

Black ice lies across the road like a sleeping serpent. Its glistening back is barely visible in the endless night. Moisture like human breath hangs in the air.

We didn’t notice the truck swerving until it was far too late.

With one swoop, we veer off the road and head straight into the nearby ditch. There is a loud cracking sound as the truck bucked wildly down the slope. The grinding sound doesn't stop until our bodies jerk violently in their leather seats.

The world blurs as everything vibrates and shudders. My teeth clatter together until I clamp my jaw shut.

My head snaps up. There is blood on my lips.

With a soft, breathy plea, I beg for the truck to stop moving long after it had gone still.

“Are you alright?” he asks, oddly level-voiced.

My lungs squeeze inside my chest. Like a knife was driven through it. Choking on my words, I manage to whisper, “No. No, not really.”

He turns from the steering wheel, eyes maniac with adrenaline. His lips part as if to say more, but instead, he reaches out for me. I lean over my seat and press into his awaiting arms.

We hold each other in silence as our numbed bodies still tremble.

[ghostinmyblood]

"It always feels like I am going too fast. No matter what I do, I am always too fast. I can't get it right. I thought life was going to go as planned. I didn't think it would be like this. All the advice I was given by the adults in my life wasn't relevant; it was always something I brushed off. And now I realize, it all makes sense. They were right. And things would be easier if I had listened from the start instead of learning it myself. The hard way."

[ghostinmyblood]

The TV replays the menu screen while I sit on his lap. The recliner threatens to swallow us whole in its embrace. I rest my head on his shoulder while gazing at nothing. Absent playful strokes through my hair. Calm before the storm we predicted.

The door opens. Eyes lock from the doorway. Her flinch fades quickly into a stony expression. She doesn't speak to me for the rest of the night. Yet his eyes linger on us. A silent question.

The man beneath me sits up straighter. A cocky grin on his face, "Happy Valentine's Day."

I wonder if he regrets it.

I think we all do.

[ghostinmyblood]

The forest by the frozen lake is dark, but the snow glowed like radiant stars. Gentle slopes moves between the crooked trees. We follow an unspoken trail. We stand at the lake's edge, looking out at mansions we'll never seen in the daylight, and a green light flickers at the edge of a dock.

I turn to him with a knowing smile. "It's like in Great Gatsby."

We lean against the metal railing of our own dock. We could pretend like we lived here when we look at the ice. Shivering, I pull closer to his side for warmth. He gives the slightest lean in return.

Behind us, our friend smokes a cigar and offers one to him. They smoke together until all our clothes smell of sticky ash.

[fiearth]

pull the blinds

[aloevera333333]

[mechankl]

10.30.24

[hellhoundlily]

[evelynscythe]

[ghostinmyblood]

We sit in a circle near the window, looking into the private garden which is nestled at the center of the church. Snow glistens in the corner of my eye. He pulls out a piece of paper, "A relationship chart, to track everyone's," he gestures vaguely because there is no proper name for it. We write out each name and draw arrows between the names. It turns into an interconnected web of the unspoken chaos of unrequited love and games played. Arrows keep pointing at my name, much to my surprise.

He looks at me with a raised brow. "And whatever that thing you have going on with him," he says knowingly.

I agree, trying not to look at the mentioned boy currently lounging on the nearby couch.

"We could be a reality tv show. I could write a book about us someday."

He smiles and nods in agreement. "I'm keeping track of things, too. I've been trying to journal all of this."

"Share it with me when the time comes. I'll need it for research."

"Absolutely."

[ghostinmyblood]

The bed is a twin sized, narrow. It's difficult to fit both of us, but we manage. I offer him my other pillow. He wraps his arm around me. Our bodies press together, not a single inch between us. His breath smells of sweet beer. My heart pounds hard in my chest, and I fear I will never sleep. Sometimes I wish I drank with them, but I never did.

I tell myself that it's like when friends sleep in the same hotel bed together.

"I bet he wouldn't like you cuddling with me," he says, a hint of teasing in his voice.

I roll my eyes, facing him. "I don't mind what he thinks, I can do what I want." And why bring him up? We were just friends, a status I established after he asked me out back in September.

"Oh, he would." He says it like a fact.

Throughout the early morning, I continuously wake up in his arms. He cuddles me tighter while he sleeps. His touch acts as a balm for my greedy desire to be held by another. I suppose it is his as well.

At nine o'clock, he awakens and slips out of bed. Bleary-eyed, I watch as he puts his shoes on in silence. We speak very little, and he leaves me in my dorm, bathed in snowy morning light.

[ghostinmyblood]

Thick snow transforms the campus into a muted white fog. We walk to my dorm together. He swore not to drink until tonight. It's around 4:30-5 in the morning. A decades-old rumor of a student dying in front of the dorms during a blizzard circles our minds. We arrive at my dorm, and he lingers. His long brown hair is softened from the sweat of running through the church in the dark. Energy still sings in our blood.

Hesitation flickers on his face. "Could I sleep here for a while?" he asks, a little drunk and very cold.

"Sure." I didn't want him to suffer in the blizzard, not when his dorm is so far away. But where can he sleep? My roommate is out, but I can't let him sleep in her bed. And the floor is too hard, I don't have an extra pillow. I can't make him sleep on the floor.

The silence is heavy in the air.

"I don't know where you could sleep..."

He says nothing.

An idea strikes, a terrifying yet alluring one. It swirls in my head until it becomes as fierce as the snowy maelstrom beyond my window.

"Where do you want to sleep?" I ask instead.

He hops onto my bed in reply.

It is all the answer I need.

[ghostinmyblood]

With tears in my eyes, I drive in a furious rage back to campus. My parents' words still echo in my mind. Their disagreement with how I chose to spend my time. My friends call to me like a siren. I can't afford to lose a single night.

When I arrive at the church, I hear a voice from above. He calls to me, laughter gathering in his chest. The two boys stand on the roof. They lean over its icy edge, eyes aglow with mischief, twin gods perched on a holy place. I join them because that is my choice, and it is all I ever wanted.

[ghostinmyblood]

"Want to come see my dad's grave? I promise it'll be fun."

[ghostinmyblood]

My friend's high school teacher was a recent graduate and knew the two boys. One is a free spirit; he is somewhere between a middle schooler and a politician. The other is a cat. There's nothing wrong with them, but they're just really weird.