Entanglement
The story of a red rose, a poem, and some peppermint candy.

.I.
Visions of Entanglement

His hands in my hair, his lips on my skin, and his breath on my chest…I felt him all around me, touching me with such sensitivity, as if I were a porcelain doll from the eighteen hundreds. But I am not a porcelain doll from ages ago; I’m about as fragile as duct tape. His eyes looking into my soul, his mind thinking of what we can do, and his fingers tracing my weakness…only in a moment like this, would I let anyone who implied that I was weak, get away with it.

“I love you,” he whispered, laying his head on my bare chest, and filling the room with hollow breaths.

“I love you too,” I replied, knotting my fingers into his soft brown hair. He closed his green eyes, and leaned up, kissing my mouth. I felt a tingle from where his lips touched me, and I smiled. I pushed my lips against his, and it didn’t feel the same. This time I had the dominancy, I had him in the control of my mouth. When he broke free from our kiss, he fell onto the part of the bed next to me, panting for a second. His arms sneaked around me, as he snuggled closer, I breathed the smell of sweat and flowers, and fell asleep.

I cannot believe that I’m having dreams about Kyle, the most beautiful, innocent looking boy in the world. I’ll say it right off the bat, I’m gay and have no problem telling the homophobes to “fuck off.” For all I care, they can eat their own shit.

I’m not gonna say I’m a bully, cause I’m not…I’m just tough, which is a weird combination for me. People aren’t sure if they should fear me (because I’m gay) or respect me (because I don’t act gay). I’m not gonna lie either and say that I really care about what they think. (I’m also not gonna lie and say that I can live without seeing Kyle, because honestly, I don’t think I can!)

Kyle and I, we used to be friends back in third grade, but it’s been five years since then, and I am quite a bit taller (in fact, I’m second tallest in the eighth grade, right after Sandra Williams). I remember we used to play Harry Potter at recess, as well as leaf wars where we raided each others fortress with leaves. Surprisingly enough, back in third grade, I was the runt and Kyle was the toughie. Funny, how that can happen.

As I sit here pondering the possibility of Kyle ever being gay (or even going out with me), I don’t notice that the garage door opens, and in it an engine stops. I don’t notice any of the racket that is being made downstairs, until a shrill voice calls up the stairs, “JAAAAAAAAAAACOB! HELP ME WITH THE GROCERIES. NOW.”

My mom is home. Actually, I never new my mom, this is my step-mom. Named Shakira. I thought so too.

I jumped off my bed, and exit my room, slamming the door behind me as I leave. I walk down the carpeted stairs and see my mom standing there, her wavy brown hair stylized so it looked like the real Shakira could wear it while walking down the red carpet. I go out to her yellow mustang, and pull the last fifteen bags of groceries out of the car. It looks like she bought us a lot of whole wheat, and organic food.

I’m not against healthy eating, but I’m not 100% for it. Sometimes I just miss those cheap hot dogs but, whatever. I set the groceries down in the kitchen, and start unloading them

“Honey,” says mom.

“Yes?” I ask into the refrigerator.

“I’m going out again.”

“Uh, OK,” I say.

“Do you want anything?” She asks me.

“Kyle,” I reply without thinking. She frowns.

“Er, whatever,” she says and leaves.

I put the last of the yogurts away, and I sigh. I go back and take the yogurt out, and bring it to the front porch. Using my fingers I dish the creamy, coffee flavored yogurt into my mouth, and watch the Sunday afternoon sun. “Tomorrow is Monday,” I say to myself, “I’ll get to see Kyle again.” Thinking of that, I smiled thinking of the bliss Kyle and I could feel....

I set down the yogurt, intending to finish it later, when I see something shiny in the road. I like shiny things. I go down to the road and see a pocket watch lying out on the street, picking it up, I see that the clock still works and that it is 3:25:62 pm. I smile at the little trinket and put it into my pocket; someone must have accidentally dropped it. Oh well, to bad for them!

I go back up to my room and grab a pillow. Hugging it to my chest, I log onto my computer, and see that I missed a message from Sadie.

To: Jackie (apparently that’s what she has my email under on her account)

Subject: SHOPPING!

Message: Shopping. The mall. Sunday. 4:15. You in?

For some reason I think she thinks that there is a world limit on email. I have yet to tell her you can use as many words as you like, but for now it is really entertaining. I pull out my cell phone, and realize that she texted me the same thing, except now it reads:

To: Jackie

Message: SHPN ML S 4:15 U N?

Unless she had sent me the email I would never have been able to decipher it. I reply, “sure,” to her and close my phone. Since I’m not a huge computer person, I shut off my computer and go back to my bed. I have a little while before I go to the mall with Sadie. Maybe I should exercise.

But I never get up to exercise; I just drift into a short rest about me and Kyle being together, forever.

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Well, there is the start, hope you enjoyed!