How long can the winter months drag on? Spring seems so close, but the clutches of darkness still hang over this place, stalling life, stealing warmth.
Zach did what he said he would do and asked Nina to be his girlfriend. She accepted without a second thought. More and more often, she has come to the house. But now that his father is back at work, unable to monitor his every move, what's the point?
"I love your blonde hair," she says, reaching up to shag her fingers through the loose locks as they sit together in front of the television. "But it sure does grow fast. You should let me cut it! I'm going to school soon, after all. To be a beautician," she says proudly. "I'm sure I could do it!"
Zach smiles, bringing her hand down and into his own. "I'd like that."
She beams then scoots closer on the loveseat. "I can't wait to be at college with you. High school is so dull," she pouts. After watching the screen for a moment, she turns toward the dining room then back toward her companion.
"Say," she inquires coyly. "Your mom was going out, wasn't she? We're all alone in the house." She bites her lip and looks obviously at Zach's mouth.
He doesn't notice. 'We're all alone in the house'. He's suddenly somewhere else in his mind, reaching unconsciously to the scar on his arm while hearing those words come from a different pair of lips. A familiar blur forms in the corner of his vision.
"Zachary."
He snaps back to attention to see her huff. "Aren't you ever going to kiss me?"
"Do you want to?"
She nods vigorously. "Yes." Then a thought comes to her and she gasps softly, asking with wide eyes, "This isn't your first kiss, is it?"
"N-no." Trying desperately not to recall the memorable kisses, Zach can't stop himself from picturing the farmhouse in the back of his mind.
Kiss, you're it.
And at the bridge where his life seemed to change completely.
I want you to kiss me.
He can picture the old woman coming in to her kitchen with a hand flying to her chest, scolding them. Man, that day was really the best. Shane was so desperate for his kisses. But deep down, Zach was feeling the same way. What's Shane doing now, anyway?
"That's my favorite look of yours," Nina says dreamily, yanking him from his thoughts.
"What?"
"It's not your usual look." She picks at her fingernail, drawing his attention to her small hands. "Sometimes I wonder if you really have feelings for me, even though we've been dating for weeks now," she emphasizes. "But then you look at me like that."
Zach straightens on the sofa.
"To be honest, it makes my heart skip a beat every time," she laughs. "I don't see you look at anyone else like that, so it got me thinking. Of course he likes you, silly! He's just shy!"
What did his face look like? Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that he's been imagining Shane again in the room. Already, he's formed the image of the boy in the corner, smiling at him. At the girl's words, however, the smile disappears.
Nina brings herself closer with a small blush. Zach forces himself not to tense up.
This is normal. This is what couples do. I'm the one who asked her to date me. He ignores the more disheartening thoughts, panic, sadness, aversion.
After placing his arm around her shoulder, he can feel his forehead tense. It always feels that way lately. He sometimes brings a finger up to massage the knot right out only to feel it's return moments later. He couldn't very well do that now. What good would it do?
Nina waits there for him, eyes closed on the sofa under his arm. The arm that is sore and tense. There's a pulsing feeling in the nerves of his neck. He's nervous but not in the way he wants.
Pressing his own lips together, preparing himself, he lowers his lashes to gaze at her lipstick. Light pink. Her chest pushes against his in the shrinking space. Full and soft.
He leans closer, then closer again until their skin touches. The way she presses in closer to him doesn't necessarily feel bad to Zach, but then her hand finds his, interlacing their fingers, and her lips part slightly as if urging his to do the same.
He panics. He knows immediately what he feels, but he can't let it show. The thought of doing anything more than this makes his heart sink in his chest. He can't do it. He doesn't want to.
After breaking off the contact, he sees her brow raise at his slightly anxious but mostly downcast reaction. Her lips twitch into a slight smile. "What's the matter?"
Zach removes her fingers from his and lifts his arm from around her shoulders, enclosing her small hand between his.
"Do you mind if we just sit?"
She sighs happily, to his relief. "Now that I know how you feel, I'm okay with anything you want to do. Anything at all." She nestles in closer to him, resting her head on his neck.
Zach turns up the volume on the television. Nina likes this program. She's said so many times. She's always honest about her feelings, and her reactions are honest and simple, consistently forward moving and optimistic.
He can't help but be fond of the girl, though he isn't sure why she puts up with him. It's as though she's already decided in her mind that they'll be together and be immensely happy if she has anything to do with it. She seems willing to do whatever it takes to keep that a reality, even if it means working at his pace.
When he gets past all the stifling emotions, it gladdens him to find something, anything, about her that makes his heart warm. So he lets the young woman sit there next to him with her head on his shoulder. Her legs wrap themselves around his.
After a moment, he lets his head rest on hers, which she seems pleased about.
'This isn't all bad,' he thinks, as a single unwelcome tear falls down his face and absorbs into his collared shirt.
Laughter and music ring out from the television, but he can't focus on the screen. His eyes move like a pendulum from it to the corner of the room. He pleads for the boy in his vision to leave and not watch the scene before him. He tries erasing his face, Shane's ever-present smile. He tries erasing his hands and feet, his perfect skin.
Please go. Go away.
He imagines a whirlwind carrying him off. He imagines him fading into nothing. He imagines pushing him away by force.
When none of that works and more tears begin forming threateningly behind his eyes, making them feel full and painful, he uses every cell in his brain to scream,
LEAVE!
Obediently, the imaginary boy ducks his heads and turns away, disappearing, and this time, not returning.
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Eventually Nina does join him at his college. She pursues her dreams of cosmetology and popularity, and Zach increases his pace, taking every class, every credit he can to stay busy.
He's on track to graduate college with a degree in only three years, though he still has a few credits to go. Just one more semester. Then I'll be free.
When his father learns of his accelerated timeline, he sits down with the boy to have a talk.
"You know what I expect from you, yes?"
"I'm to finish school and get a stable job."
"Yes. Your future will be shaped by the decisions you make after college. How are you and Nina doing?"
Zach swallows. "She's happy, I think. That's what matters. I...I know you want me to keep seeing her. We've been together for so long now." How many years had it been?
"That's right. I'm proud of you, son. It's time you learned to be a man. I've been around a lot more these past few years, have I not?"
"Yes, sir."
"I've treated you more than fairly as well as your mother and the twins, providing for you, placing a roof over your head."
"Yes, sir."
His father nods before rolling back his shoulders. "You're going to finish school and you're gonna marry this girl, you hear me?"
Zach's mind goes blank. Marry her? Marriage. What an odd thought. Not just to Nina but to anybody. But he is 20 years old, after all. Plenty of his classmates are married now with children.
"Because she's a good thing you've got going, yes? You're lucky to have a woman like that, are we clear?"
"Yes, sir." The phrase comes so effortlessly now.
"I'm proud of you, son."
Those words which used to make him blush with satisfaction and cause such an overwhelming fullness in his chest now tastes like bitter bile rising in his throat.
He swallows it down, forcing himself to smile at his father's hand on his shoulder.
Days pass. Weeks. Zach thinks hard about his fathers words. It is what people do. Would it make him happy one day, too? He's no longer familiar with the idea of wanting something and chasing after it with all his heart.
"Zachary, can you come in here for a moment?"
His mother.
"Well," she motions for him to sit. "I figured you'd be needing this soon," she says with a warm smile, pulling a small velvet box from her apron. "Go ahead, open it."
With steady hands, Zach reaches for the gift. After pausing to take in his mother's excitement, he lifts its top to reveal a diamond ring. Surprise doesn't come. Why would it? Surely she and Stanley had talked about his future.
"It was my great aunt's ring. One of the few things I inherited when my grandmother passed, though I'm not sure how she came to be in possession of it. It was quite sought after in its time."
"It's lovely." Zach has nothing to compare it to, but it certainly catches the eye—something Nina would surely appreciate.
"I know how hard you've worked at school these past three years, and even before that, you always took your studies so seriously. It's alright to go after your own happiness. Becoming an adult doesn't have to happen all at once."
She brushes back the hair from his face, something she hasn't done for a long time, and Zach feels himself nostalgic at the gesture. He leans in toward her touch, wishing he could both go back to those days and forget them altogether. Days when he had no thought for the future. Days when the only true joy he found was while dreaming of a secret, mysterious town tucked away in the countryside. What was it called again? He hasn't thought the name in quite some time, he hasn't let himself.
After returning to his room and looking for a place to keep his mother's gift, he opens a drawer to reveal something he hasn't laid eyes on in years. His old notebook. The one he kept with him no matter where he went as a teenager, no matter what he was doing before...well, before.
With curiosity, he pulls it out. Page after page is filled with his scrawls, his thoughts. Ideas he hasn't contemplated in a very long time. He reads messages of hope, of excitement, of apprehension, determination. What a perfect world he created for himself in these lines.
But a perfect world doesn't exist. His own world shattered long ago beneath his feet, and he grabbed onto the only things that would keep him alive. There is nowhere for his feet now. He belongs nowhere.
Shanan
The word catches his eye as he thumbs through the pages, and he stops, hesitating before lifting the book open once more.
Shanan. That...was the name of that place. Just like everything else in this book, it was probably his imagination. He flips the page, skipping over his words, not wanting to remember what he wrote, what he thought.
Shane
His breath catches in his throat. No. No, please. He closes the book on his hand and faces the ceiling, biting his lip for a moment. His heart refuses to slow. Ignoring the screams of warning in his mind, the voice of his father, he opens the page and looks down once more.
Where the earth stands, still.
The words electrify him, seeming to jump off the page before disappearing before his eyes in a blur. What's happening? I can't see.
As usual, his heart knows before his brain has time to catch up. Tears spill out and he reaches up in vexation. They came out of nowhere. Already, his face is wet with them as they cascade quickly and quietly down his cheeks. He can't stop them. He can only wait as they fall heavily on the pages of his old worn notebook, blotting and bleeding the ink.
Shane. His home.
It's not just standing still. It's...still standing. For him. For anyone who needs it. It's so simple.
The tears feel warm on his skin, so comforting. For once, these are tears of healing. Of resolution. Yeah, simple. He used to want things. Nothing about his desires was ever too complicated. When did things get so complicated?
It's funny what a good cry can do when it isn't caused by someone else. He feels strong. He feels refreshed. For a moment, he can finally say that he deserves to be happy.