by Lauren Runow
We make it back to the house just as darkness completely takes over the night, and I lift my head off his shoulder when he pulls up in front of my driveway. Once he stops, I climb off the bike and turn to face him. The streetlight above cast shadows over his face, but I catch a glimpse of his eyes when he tilts his hat up, and then…I feel it.
The butterflies other girls talk about.
My eyes meet the street when fear of the unknown takes over my body.
The silence in the air starts to sting and the hum from the lamplight above us begins to mock me. Awkwardly, I wait for him to move, to say something, but neither of us do anything. Stunned, in this frozen state, I desperately want to curl into a ball and hide. This is not us—we don’t sit quietly or not interact, especially Trevin. He always has some silly remark or an ease about him that has amazed me since we first met.
The sound of my parents running out from our house breaks my thoughts. “Lily, you’re in big trouble, young lady. Do you see how dark it is?” my dad sternly makes his point.
I glance at Trevin, our eyes meeting for a brief second before I turn around, apologizing to save my life. “I’m sor—”
“Mr. Pace, I’m so sorry.” Trev cuts me off. “This was my fault. My tire broke on my bike, and we finally had to leave it back in the hills or we would have been home much later. That’s why I’m riding Lily’s.” He jumps off the bike and walks it up to my garage where my parents are walking toward us.
Both of my parents want confirmation, looking first at me and then back at Trevin.
“We’re sorry, but there was nothing we could do. We have to go back to get his bike in the morning. I rode on…” I pause as I feel heat rise up my face, suddenly embarrassed and unable to make eye contact with either of my parents. “I…um, I rode on the handle bars.”
The urge to look at Trevin takes over, and when I glance his way, our eyes meet, but he quickly looks away and back toward my parents.
“Okay, Trevin, well, I’m sorry about your bike. I’m glad you guys made it back safe. Your mom is worried sick as well. Go on home now. Have a good night,” my dad says to Trevin while taking the bike from him before walking it into the garage.
Trevin turns in my direction, those butterflies taking flight again in my stomach. Our eyes lock on one another for a second too long before he turns and walks to his house.
My mom’s soft laughter takes me out of my butterfly-induced state when she wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Well, well, well. It’s about time you two noticed each other,” she teases.
I shake my head in instant denial. “What? What are you talking about?” I shrug out of her embrace, mad at her comment.
“Uh huh…” She laughs as she walks away, back into the house. “Glad you’re home safe, Lily,” she calls over her shoulder, leaving me sitting in the dark garage—alone with my butterflies as thoughts of leaning against his chest fill my mind.
After getting ready for bed, I crawl under the covers and hear my walkie-talkie beep. “Hey, Lily Pad, you there?”
Our bedrooms face each other, but there’s a good forty feet between our houses. A few years ago, his mom got him walkie-talkies for Christmas, so he instantly ran over to my house to give me the second one, and it’s been here ever since.
I grab it from the dresser and open up my blinds so I can see him while we talk. “Yup, I’m here. Just about to get in bed. What’s up?” I say as we glance at each other, back-lit by the lights in our rooms.
“Hey.” He smiles, tilting his head up in acknowledgment.
“Hi,” I respond as the butterflies return to my tummy—stupid butterflies.
“Are you in trouble?”
“Nah, thanks for stepping in to tell them about your bike.”
“No prob. I just didn’t want to get you in trouble.”
“How about you? How mad was your dad?” I’d never say his dad had been an overly friendly guy, but lately, I’ve noticed things aren’t going very well around his house. His dad has been very different—more distant than he has been in the past. But every time I ask Trevin about it, he changes the subject. I love his mom, though. She’s the sweetest lady, always offering us something to eat and taking us wherever we want to go. She’s even come to some of my dance classes and has volunteered as an instructor.
I hear him take a deep breath before he answers. “He’s not home yet,” is all he replies. I look at my alarm clock and wonder where his dad could be after ten o’clock.
Weird…
We sit in silence, where normally our conversations carry on forever. There’s not much to say tonight, and the nervous sensation in my stomach makes it hard to even breathe.
“So…um, do you want to go get your bike in the morning?” I finally think to ask.
Before he can answer, lights sweep across his house, signaling his dad pulling into the driveway.
“Um…uh—I’ve got to go. Night.” Trevin abruptly throws the walkie-talkie down and runs to turn off his light.
I can’t help but wonder what that was about. I whisper, “Night,” more to myself since I can see he’s no longer paying attention to me. I get up to turn my bedroom light off and hop into bed, snuggling under the covers and getting comfortable with my pillow.
Just as my eyes close, muffled yells awaken my senses. Looking for the source, more of the angry sounds fill my room. I realize it’s coming from the walkie-talkie that has fallen between my bed and the wall.
Finally securing it in my hand, I quickly turn down the volume since the yelling has turned into screaming. I peek out my window, trying to get a glimpse of what’s going on. In his rush to go to bed, Trevin must have tried to hide the walkie-talkie making the talk button lodged firmly against something keeping it activated.
The light flicks on, and I see a large figure standing in his doorway. The voice booming through the walkie-talkie gives his dad away before I can see all of him. “What the fuck did you do?” His voice so intense it cracks under its own pressure.
Trevin sits up in his bed, squirming as far against the back wall as he can go, putting distance between him and his dad. “It was an accident. I swear.”
Helplessly, I watch my friend cower in the corner, fear lining his voice as he shields himself from the onslaught of words being thrown at him.
“What did I tell you?” his dad screams in response. “There’s no such thing as an accident. If you weren’t such a dumbass, or a total fuck up, this kind of shit wouldn’t happen.”
“Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Trevin’s hands go up in front of his face, trying to defend his actions.
“How about I sell that damn baseball glove of yours to pay for a new wheel? Seems that’s the only thing you care about anyway.”
“No, Dad. Please don’t. I’ll pay for it, I swear. I’ll go mow lawns to earn the money, I promise. Please don’t take my glove.”
My eyes trace his dad’s steps across the room, terrified of the repercussions Trevin was about to face. Never in my worst nightmare could I have foreseen his dad lifting his fist and throwing a punch at, what looks like, Trevin’s face.
The man’s voice sounds possessed, like a demon taunting him. “Damn right you will.”
My stomach constricts as my chest screams for the air my body’s refusing. I can’t believe I’m witnessing this. There was no way this could be happening. Not to my best friend.
Thankfully, his dad turns and storms out of the room, leaving Trevin alone. I hear his muffled cries through the walkie-talkie as he covers his face with a pillow.
Unable to move, choking on fear, I stare into his room, knowing things will never be the same between us, or his family.
A few minutes later, his mom walks into the room and quietly shuts the door behind her. The second the latch clicks she rushes to Trevin’s side. “Oh, baby, are you all right?”
The walkie-talkie picks up her audible gasp when she sees Trevin’s face. She quickly grabs for him, drawing him to her chest and roc
king back and forth in a protective embrace…like any mom would when her baby’s hurt.
“I’m so sorry, honey. You know he doesn’t mean it. He’s going through a hard time. I promise this will never happen again. Here, let me look at you.” She pushes him back enough to inspect his face, her fingers gently caressing the skin on his cheeks. Their interaction is comforting, even to me, but nothing about this is right.
My heart is broken.
Visions of Trevin scrambling away from what he must have known was coming caused me to toss and turn all night. The sound of his father’s fist when it hit him, the loud whack that resounded through the walkie-talkie, played over and over in my head. I couldn’t make it stop no matter what I did. Now that it’s morning, I’m still sick to my stomach, and I don’t have a clue what to say or do.
As I lay in bed, watching a rerun of The Wonder Years, I hear the walkie-talkie come to life. “Hey, Lily Pad, you awake?”
The butterflies take flight in my stomach when his voice dances around my room. It’s not the first time he’s checked in with me in the morning, and it’s definitely not the first time he’s called me Lily Pad, but somehow, everything has changed. My feelings for him, our friendship, his family…it’s all different. One thing overrides all the other uncertainty that I can’t deny—his voice sends chills down my spine, making the butterflies’ wings beat faster. I don’t know whether to smile or throw up from nervous sensations overwhelming me.
Swallowing my fears and filling my lungs, I choose to pretend nothing’s different. “Only if you don’t call me Lily Pad,” I tease while looking up to the ceiling, inhaling a steady breath.
His laughter filters through the other end. “No chance. Let’s go get my bike.”
I shake my head, not able to fight the annoyed smile taking over my face. This stupid nickname hasn’t gone away since the day we met.
“Okay, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be down.”
“Cool, see you soon.”
I spend ten of the next fifteen minutes staring at the mirror, lost in thought. A tingling sensation burns through my veins and my chest squeezes, remembering the way his father treated him last night. Finally, I gather the courage to move and go face my best friend.
I find my mom sitting in the kitchen, drinking her coffee. “Mom?”
“Yeah, baby,” she says, looking up at me sincerely.
I never realized until this moment just how lucky I am to have the parents I do. Both my mom and dad would do anything for me at any time. Shoot, they moved their entire life out of the City so I could have a more normal childhood.
I contemplate talking to my mom about what I saw, but I honestly don’t know if there was anything she could do. I’m certain about one thing—I don’t want them looking at Trevin or Julie any differently, so I decide to keep his secret safe in my heart.
“I’m going out with Trevin to get his bike,” I say, having completely changed my mind.
She knows I’m hiding something—she reads me like a book. Facing me, seeing the look in my eyes, the hesitation in my face, she knows. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to say I was sorry about last night,” I kind of lie. I mean, I am sorry, but that’s not what I really wanted to say.
“It’s okay. We understand things happen sometimes. Just glad you guys were safe. I must admit, knowing you were with Trevin eased my mind. I know he cares a lot about you.”
I smile, knowing how important my best friend is to me. I know he’ll do anything to protect me. Now I just need to figure out how can I protect him.
“Thanks, Mom.” I give her a bigger hug than normal before walking to the front door.
When I open it I find Trevin already sitting on the steps with his back to me and a baseball cap on his head. The mere sight of him spreads a smile across my face as the butterflies return in full force.
Without saying a word, I sit next to him, close but barely touching, staring out at the street in front of us. “What’s up?” I say in greeting.
“Not much.” He bumps my leg with his.
I turn to face him, and my heart sinks at the sight of a swollen black and blue eye. There’s a small cut an inch above the bruises he’s trying to hide under the hat. His chest rises as he takes a deep breath but doesn’t say a word when he releases it. He’s trying desperately to mask the shakes overtaking his body.
I lean over, lifting his hat slightly and, without saying a word, kiss his eye softly then place my hand over his on his knee. We sit silently, saying all that needs to be said through that touch before he stands and pulls me up along with him, heading out to get his bike.
