April Showers
Unrequited

You smile your impish smile and gesture for me to follow. I love it. You always look your best when you’re doing something mischievous.

It’s like something turns on inside of you that makes you irresistible. Your hazel eyes come alive in a way that only silliness can elicit. Your mouth turns up at the corners, just enough for me to know that on the inside you’re laughing at the world.

I love your laugh.

I love you.

I carefully check our surroundings to find most of the other party-goers to be involved in a discussion.

They won’t notice us leave.

My pulse snaps to attention and my heart begins to gush blood throughout my body with each reckless contraction. My stomach begins to burn in anticipation as thousands of scenarios fly through my head. Did you finally notice how my touches linger? How my eyes stay trained on you whenever you’re around?

Are you taking me away so that you can confess to me that you love me too? Will you kiss me?

With my head stuffed full of these thoughts I slip away from the main group of people and follow you to the bathroom. You step inside and beckon for me to follow you into the semi-darkness.

“How long do you think it will take for them to figure out we’re gone?” you whisper with that light in your eyes. My heart sinks with realization.

You just want to be the center of attention again. Why do you always do this? Whenever you aren’t getting the attention you crave you run away and hide. Then they all wonder where you’ve gone and come look for you.

I hate it.

I hate this.

I should have known better. You’d never like me. I’m not even sure if you’re gay.

I don’t want you to be the center of attention. I want you to be happy with just my attention.

I shrug and reply with the truth.

“I don’t know how long. Maybe a few minutes?”

And I want it to be forever. I want those few minutes to last for eternity so I can have you all to myself. It doesn’t take long for wondering voices to start calling out our names. Your eyes flash in the darkness and I see the glimmer of your teeth.

Someone flicks on the lights and you grin up at whomever it is that has found us. Whoever it is that has found you. Other people cram into the doorway and you laugh. They laugh too.

I don’t.

Your smile is whimsical and daring as you pose a question.

“How many of us do you think we can fit in the shower?”

Everyone is silent for a moment before you grab some random girl and I. You pull us in. I hate how much I love your hand wrapped around my wrist. In the shower it’s still pretty spacious even with the three of us. The grout of the tile is clean and it looks new. I get goosebumps where my bare arms touch the cool surface.

The others look in at us and then at each other with smiles and laughs. One by one they squeeze in. With each addition I’m pushed harder and harder against you. Panic rises in my throat when I realize that it’s doing very bad things to me.

Everyone but you and I are giggling and squirming. You look at me, serious all of a sudden. This you is nothing like your capricious self. The only reason I can hear you over the overwhelming exclamations and chatter is because you’re breathing your words right into my ear. I shift so that we’re chest to chest even though I know it’s the worst thing I could possibly do. A disembodied voice gibbers in the back of my head.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” you say and the puffs of air tickle my ear. My breath catches. My face must be on fire.

“How so?”

“I don’t know. You act like you have a crush on me or something. Truthfully, it’s starting to bother me.”

My heart does a funny thing. It stops, held in suspension for one agonizing, blissfully thoughtless moment. Then it jams back into gear and overheats, clawing its way up my chest, up my throat and into the back of my mouth.

Nine people crammed together in a shower.

It’s like a solid wall that keeps me shoved here against you. I’m trapped, constantly loving you with no way out.

And it’s at this moment, with you so close to me that I snap. You’ll never love me back. My body is rigid and my voice is acid.

“Fuck you.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. You want to say something but I ignore it and somehow shove myself the fuck away from you and out of that shower. People cry out as I smash through them. I hastily throw out something about a cell call from my parents. I say they need me home now. It’s a family emergency.

Anything to get me away from you.

On the drive home, as tears make my cheeks slick and blotchy, I’m blissfully numb.

When I’m home and safe, I enter a shower for the second time that afternoon.

I’m going to scrub the love from my skin and my heart. I’m going to watch it disappear.