“You did always want to be a Prince,” I tell him softly, recounting the time he begged me to dress up with him for Halloween, he wanted to be a Prince and he wanted me to be the King. We never did dress up as that together, the year getting away from us and by the time Halloween rolled aroundagain, he wanted to be something else. I never forgot it though, seeing him practice his stance and watching him as he placed an imaginary crown on his head while I would sit on the bed and listen to him as he created stories of magical kingdoms.
“I did, but that was so long ago. I was more like a damsel in distress back then. Now I’m the chaotic sidekick who always ends up fucking something up along the way.”
“You’re not fucking anything up. You’re still so young, you can make mistakes as long as you learn from them. You’re stronger and smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
“You give me so much more credit than I deserve, Jer.”
And he’s right, I do. He has done nothing but hurt me. But everytime, I remember back to the kids we were when we relied on each other. Holding hands and confronting the scariest things together. It’s hard to let go of that. My feelings for him fluctuate, but one thing that stays constant is I will always come back to him. No matter how much I want to fight it.
He lets go of me, slowly uncurling his fingers until the material of my shirt is wrinkled from his tight grip.
I turn more on my seat, watching him as he lifts his shaky hands up to the helmet, fumbling with the strap underneath.
“Let me help you,” I murmur, reaching up and deftly undoing it and letting him pull it off the rest of the way. His hair is a mess, some strands sticking flat to his forehead with a trace of sweat and the rest of it is sticking up with the static from the inner material of the helmet.
“I look awful, don’t say anything.” He snaps, but his face softens as he looks at me. He’s realized that it'smehe snapped at, the one person who would never say a bad word about him. What has Josh put him through to put him on the defense like this?
“You don’t look awful,” I tell him, genuinely meaning it.
He eyes me curiously, tilting his head to the left a little bit. The diamond stud in his upper cartilage of his ear catches thelight reflecting off it and ensnaring me. The delicate curve of the shell of his ear is tempting me to trace my fingers across it.
Liam. Don’t forget about Liam. Your boyfriend who you care for deeply and have been making a life with.
I jerk back, my thoughts reminding me of why getting close to Raiden is a bad idea for more than one reason.
“Let’s go, my mom’s baking cookies and we have to get there as soon as they’re done or my dad will eat them all.” I leave him on the bike as I swing my leg over and make sure it doesn’t tip from the dramatic loss of weight. He’s still sitting where I left him, not moving an inch besides lifting his hand up to tuck a stray hair behind his ear.
A mini van pulls up behind me and parks against the curb. “Better hurry before they all get out, we’ll be stuck behind kids and nothing sounds worse than that right now.”
Raiden’s eyes light up with mirth at my joke, and he extends his hand towards me. “Can you help me down? My legs feel tingly. I think if I put a foot down it’ll crumple underneath me.”
I grab his hand, and let him lean his weight on me as he struggles to get off. When both of his feet are on the ground and he’s stable enough to walk, I let go of him. Mourning the small connection we had.
The Carpenters’ house is decorated likeScooby Doo.There’s wooden cutouts ofThe Gang,with a maze that trails around to their backyard filled with animatronics that jump out based off of movement. Raiden jumps a few times, clutching onto the back of my shirt as I guide us through it. I can hear the group of kids behind us squealing in terror and delight.
Raiden’s face brightens when we’re through the maze and in the backyard where they have painted pumpkins propped along the fence, displaying some of the villains fromScooby Doo.
There’s a couple standing under the pavilion, the two menwrapped in each other’s arms as they gaze at the exuberant decorations. They look so happy.
I think about the couple the whole ride back to my parents, with Raiden gripping on tight to me, the heat of his front pressed against my back. They occupy my every thought until I drop the kickstand and Raiden peels his arms away from me.
I swing my leg off the bike, and help him down. He tugs at his helmet and tries to mirror my actions as I unfasten my helmet. Raiden almost has it undone, so I wait patiently for him to do it. If he needs my help, he can ask me for it.
“Oh my god, I can’t wait to go again,” he says, his voice way too loud in the quiet of the neighborhood. That’s how he’s always been, a star shining too bright for its own good, never knowing when to quit. He’s going to burn out if he’s not careful.
“Well it’ll be a little bit,” I say, walking around and trying to stretch out my limbs. The ride back was easier than the ride there, but the combination of both of them are wearing on my body. Raiden wasn’t a bad backpack. He was as natural on the back of my bike as he is while he’s dancing. Following my lead and trusting me to not let him fall.
“Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows, following me as I walked into the open garage to put his helmets away. There’s a mess of parts surrounding the car with the hood up, one of my dad’s latest projects I’m sure.
“It's still rough to ride a lot, there’s too much pressure that goes on my leg.”
“What’s wrong with your leg? Is it the same issue you were having last year?”
I’m halfway bent over the tote, and I almost stumble head first into it. He still doesn't know? After everything?
A part of me wants to keep it a secret, to keep it away from him and tucked into a nice box. Out of sight, out of mind. I couldn’t bear to see his look of pity.
“Yeah, same issues I was having last year,” I offer up easily. “Are you staying for dinner? I need to call Liam real quick, but I can meet you inside in a minute if you want to go see my parents. My mom wanted to ask you something.” I lie through my teeth, trying to change the subject and get him away from me before he can see the lies written all over my face. I’ve been avoiding Liam’s calls today, and he at least deserves for me to call him back.
