Liam looked up at me. For the first time in a longtime, I didn’t see the happy, go-lucky boy who had all the friends and attention he wanted. I saw a scared, damaged boy, silently asking for help.
I opened my mouth, to say what, I didn’t know, but Liam’s mask was quick as it slid into place with a disingenuous smirk.
“I’m always okay, May.”
I should’ve demanded honesty. I should’ve asked him what I could do for him, but I didn’t. Instead, my smile was just as unfeeling as I nodded and shut the car door.
5 Tone Deaf and Dancing
Maybelle
I woke up to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. It was Wednesday, the long-awaited graduation day. Seniors weren’t expected at the school until this evening, but Liam, not to my surprise, but far from my delight, signed us both up to help with setup. Which meant we had to arrive at least an hour earlier than the rest of the student body.
I drowsily glanced over at my constant blue alarm clock. It was early. With so much spare time before I would need to get ready, and with the events of yesterday still weighing heavy on my heart, I decided to go for a run.
Running—not a favorite pass time for many, but for me, it was an escape. A little time of peace. A moment of pretend.
I rolled out of bed. Slipped on a pair of black leggings and a black sports bra. Over top, I pulled on a black sweater I left unzipped. Then I grabbed socks and a pair of black sneakers with white detailing. Obviously, I had a favorite color to work out in. I was reserved and pretty insecure, but I liked my stout body in dark workout clothes.
Standing before my vanity, I did what I could to tame my tangled nest of bedhead. I watered down my frizzy, ringlet curls with a spray bottle, then proceeded to French-braid them into two tight braids.
As I toiled with my hair, staring at myself in the mirror while I worked, I studied the reflection. My eyebrows were light, too light against the tan of my skin and barely cousins by similarity. My eyes were an undetermined mixed color of blue and green, and they were large. Almost bug-eyed if I looked at them too long. The number of freckles that burdened my nose and tops of my cheeks was unnatural.
It wasn’t like I hated my face... I just—didn’t get along with it. Eager to escape my self-abasement, I tore my gaze away from the mirror.
After brushing my teeth and slapping on a quick swipe of deodorant, I crept into the hallway, my wireless earbuds in hand. I warily paused, listening for the roaring snores that echoed from Liam’s room two doors down from mine.
He slept like the dead most mornings after his parties. I could be screaming for my life right then and it wouldn’t faze him, which was exactly what I wanted. I plugged my ear buds into my ear and blasted my music on high as I strolled to the kitchen, an extra hop to my step.
I was talented in some things, specifically in reading, writing, and sports, but singing was not one of those things. I was tone deaf, and I knew it, but it didn’t stop me from belting my heart out to my favorite songs. Obviously, only when I was alone in the car or in the safe solitude of my home.
That morning was no exception. I spun to the coffeemaker, whipping myself up a quick cup while I sang to the beating music ofStereo Heartsby Gym Class Heroes. I slid through the kitchen, a bounce to each of my steps because when my need to squawk like a canaryhit with the music, so did my need to “bust a move”.
So, I danced—more like skipped and jumped around the kitchen off beat, while singing extremely off key. It was a true, unfiltered version of myself I wouldn’t subject anyone to.
Spinning, I downed the rest of my warm coffee, then pulled an imaginary guitar out of thin air. I ripped out an amazing solo as I more or less squealed out the bridge to what was nowLivin’ On A Prayerby Bon Jovi screaming through my skull.
When the song and my impressive solo finally ended, the song faded into my ear buds. There was a quick pause of silence between songs filled only by my deep breathing. That pause of semi-silence allowed me to hear the quick and astonished, “Holy shit.”
I stiffened. I knew that voice, and I knew the chuckle that followed that charming voice.
My eyes shifted forward to the sink. Maybe, if I moved fast enough, I could throw myself hard enough through the window sitting above the faucet. There wasn’t much of a fall so I unfortunately wouldn’t die, but the glass would be enough to send me to the hospital. That way, I wouldn’t have to face the boy, who, no doubt, stared at my back like I was a psychopath.
“Christ, Mayhem. That was awesome.”
That nickname.
I willed my now sweat-drenched hands to remove my ear buds that had moved onto another song and pivoted my body to face him.
His caramel hair was messy. His face was rugged with a lazy smile and the boy that stood on the opposite side of the kitchen from me was shirtless.
I’d seen Trey shirtless before at the beach and pool settings. But this moment was a whole new level of intimate as he watched me, fresh from sleep. The morning sun leaked through the windows. Casting his bronzed body in a fascinating combination of shadowand light contrasts.
Stunned, I knew my eyes were popping out of my skull, but at this point there was nothing I could do. I wasn’t mentally prepared for this moment, so my body had a mind of its own as I ogled him shamelessly.
After a too long bout of silence, in which I continued to stare wide-eyed like an idiot, Trey smiled. He crossed his arms over his exceptional chest, and I finally collected my wits enough to clear my throat.
“Uh, what are you doing here?”
