Chapter 2 Jericho
JERICHO
FRESHMAN YEAR
Iswallow, trying to clear the knot taking up residence in the base of my throat.
My mouth is too dry though to combat it, so my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and it takes too much effort to detach it.
I hope the deodorant I put on is working, because I can feel a trickle of sweat running down my back, tickling the sensitive skin.
It’s my first day of high school. The knowledge of it has been keeping me up for weeks, my mind working on overdrive to come up with a contingency plan for everything that could go wrong.
Exhaustion lines my features as I stare at myself in the mirror in our hallway, the dark bags underneath my eyes shining like a beacon letting everyone know how anxious I’ve been over this day since school ended last year.
The black shirt I’m wearing will cover up whatever sweat stains I end up having.
My jeans are light blue, mom picked them out for me over the summer while me and dad were away with Raiden and his dad on a camping trip.
The material sticks to my skin, a little too tight to be comfortable.
I don’t think mom was expecting me to grow so much in the summer, going from a short gangly teen to a wanna-be linebacker for the university team.
It feels like I grew overnight, and when Raiden finally noticed how much I grew when he came over to play video games last weekend, his eyes doubled in size as he stared at me.
My face flushed under his attention. That hasn’t changed in the five months that we’ve been friends since the first day I moved in next door.
It makes me feel... odd to have his attention on me like that.
Like I’m the only thing that matters to him.
Sometimes the feelings in my chest feel too big to acknowledge. Too consuming and just too much.
The doorbell rings and I flinch at the loud sound echoing through the closed door. I wipe my hands down my pants, and walk towards the door. I hear impatient knocking, hard knuckles rapping against the door in a quick staccato.
“Open up! I’m starving and your mom promised breakfast.” Comes Raiden’s voice and I bite my lip to hide my smile. My mom is milling about in the kitchen, cooking the promised breakfast. She’s been just as anxious about this day as I am.
Not Raiden though. He never worries, or stresses.
He takes everything in life in stride, no fear for the future or what could be waiting for him on the other side of a closed door.
I envy his mind sometimes. I wish I could shut mine off so I could understand what it feels like to live a day in his shoes.
Marching to the tune of whatever I want without a second thought.
Raiden approaches life like he does everything: with eyes wide open and a childlike enthusiasm.
Opening the door, the summer heat floods in, warming my face and causing a bead of sweat to form on my temple.
Raiden is standing there, legs crossed at the ankles with his hands twisted in front of him.
My jaw hangs open for a moment, still not used to his beauty.
His long hair is pulled away from his face, and tucked neatly into a crystal clippie above his ear, showing off his flushed cheeks and the slightly pointed tips of his ears.
The shirt he has on is flowy, blowing with the wind and entrapping his thin arms in a mess of sheer purple material.
His shorts are knee length, stopping right above the two bony knobs that he has used time and time again to crawl out of his window and dance in the rain.
Not that I’ve watched him. That much. Okay, whatever, it doesn’t matter how much I watch him. It’s a performance just for my eyes.
He’s still shorter with me, even with the platform doc martens he has on. The tip of his nose is eye level with my collar bone.
“Are you going to move out of the way so I can come inside or are you going to let me sweat my makeup off?” Raiden sasses, flicking a hand over his shoulder in a dramatic flash of attitude.
I don’t say anything, stepping out of the way so he can pass and I shut the door behind him.
He goes into the kitchen with my mom, and I can hear them chatting.
Raiden’s loud laugh echoes off the walls and reverberates in my skull, the sound is joyous and I feel some of the tension easing out of my body.
Today is going to be fine. I’ll have Raiden there beside me and we have every period together except seventh hour, when he will be in the dance studio and I’ll be on the football field trying and failing to keep up with the rest of the players.
If I thought trying to practice last week was bad, I can only imagine how rampant my thoughts are going to run knowing that the whole school is waiting on the other side of the metal fence.
“Sweetheart, breakfast is ready! Come eat before Raiden gets all the bacon.” I obey her, forcing my feet to move into the kitchen.
Raiden is already sitting down at our dinner table in his usual spot, chewing happily on a piece of bacon as he listens to the talk show host on my mom’s radio talk about whatever news is popular today.
I fill my plate up, and my mom hands me a cup of orange juice as I slide into my seat beside Raiden’s.
Family dinners have become a weekly thing over here.
Raiden and his parents come over with some unusual dish that I haven’t tried and talk about boring things with my parents, like politics and have we seen the neighbor’s decorations next door.
Raiden keeps me interested on those nights, tracing his fingers against the hardwood table and forcing me to guess what he’s drawing.
It’s a fast-paced two dimensional version of charades, but I’m good at it. Him? Not so much.
My dad comes down the hallway, the heavy thud of his boots hitting the floor with each step.
He comes into the kitchen, his camo uniform on and his shirt tucked neatly into his pants.
His bag for work is waiting for him at the front door, and my mom hands him a lunchbox, giving him a kiss before he walks over to us.
“Mom’s gonna drop you two off and pick you up.
Do you both have your phones?” We both nod quickly, mouths full of food.
“Okay. Have a good day. And when I get home tonight Ema and Rodney are coming over and we’re going to be cooking dinner on the grill, so tell your mom what kind of chips, drinks, and desserts you want.
We’re celebrating our kids' first day of high school.” I think he says that last part more to my mom than us, because his gaze leaves us and when I see her eyes misty.
I know she’s thinking about all the things that go through parents’ heads when their kids start to gain independence.
My dad leaves, and we finish our food quickly. Raiden draws figures on the table and in between bites of egg and bacon, I do my best to guess. My mind feels like it's in a million different places right now, spread too thin between all the things I’m supposed to be focused on.
Raiden’s hand lands on my right leg and I freeze, my almost empty cup of orange juice pressed against my bottom lip.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise.” His eyes are bright, holding the truth of his words inside of him. He’s never promised me anything before.
He squeezes my leg under the table, his nimble fingers digging into me.
“Okay.” I say, my fingers itching to rest against his. I resist the urge, curling my hand tighter against my glass and tucking the other one under my left leg. The tangy orange juice shocks my senses and I down it quickly so we can leave and won’t be late.
My mom whips her car into the line of parents dropping their kids off. The line starts halfway down the road and it creeps slower than a snail as my mom flicks her fingers against her steering wheel in tune with the country song playing on the radio.
Raiden is editing a selfie he took, flashing me quick images so I can help him decide which filter looks the best for each picture. He’s beautiful in all of them, I don’t see why he thinks he needs the filter.
“Do you want to come over after school? My mom bought me The Sims and I want to play.” Raiden doesn’t look at me as he asks his question, I almost don't realize he is talking to me until the silence drags for so long my mom clears her throat uncomfortably in the front seat.
I shrug my shoulders, and the movement causes him to look up and narrow his brown eyes at me, a deep wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.
“You know what? Never mind. I’m not giving you the option, you’re coming over and I’ll teach you how to play.
” I’ve never played The Sims, so I wouldn’t know what to do if I was left to my own devices.
But knowing Raiden, he’ll take control of the situation so I won’t feel uncomfortable.
He’s taken on the role of mother hen in our friendship, making sure that I’m taken care of even if he does it in his own weird way.
I probably wouldn’t have survived the last few months of school before summer break if it wasn’t for him being by my side and helping me put up with all the bullshit I wasn’t prepared for.
I offer him a grateful smile, and he rolls his eyes heavenward, but the smile on his face tells me how he’s secretly happy about the arrangement even if he’s not vocal about it.
My mom finally gets to the front of the line, stopping the car long enough for Raiden to hop out first and I follow after him, closing it with a thud. My mom waves to both of us before pulling away from the curb and leaving us for the first day of high school.
“Ready?” Raiden asks, a nervous look on his face that I’m not used to seeing there. He’s normally the epitome of confidence, but today he’s standing slightly behind me while we watch the other students milling about and walking into the building.
“Ready.” I state with more confidence than I feel.
And maybe it’s the way my body responds to his vicinity, reacting without thinking, but I reach my hand out to wrap his in a tight grip.
His hand in mine is exactly the same as it was that first day I saw him, when he came over without a fear in the world and asked me to hang out with him.
He squeezes my hand tightly to him, bringing us closer together.
The fresh smell of his wildflower body wash comforts me.
This is my friend, my only friend. We can make it through this together.
Raiden doesn’t let go of my hand as we take our first steps towards the place we’re going to spend the next four years together.
And that’s how we spend the rest of the day, side by side, walking to class with our bags slung across our backs. By third period, he’s complaining that it’s too heavy and so I take it from him. Carrying it into each of our classes and passing it off to him before we take our seats.
The last period of the day, we’re supposed to go our separate ways. Me going to the football locker room and him going to the dance studio. His goodbye feels somber, the brightly lit hallway contrasts with the slight frown marring his face.
“You can show me later what you learned today, if you want.” I offer, knowing that Raiden loves to dance and loves showing off.
His face brightens, the somberness forgotten as he shows off all his teeth in a huge smile. “Really? You won’t think I’m weird or..” He trails off and I watch his shoulders fall in on him, shrinking to make himself smaller. I hate it, I hate seeing the self doubt oozing from him.
“No, I won’t think you’re weird or anything.
I like watching you dance.” My face flushes red and the tips of his ears turn pink with the compliment.
I’ve just admitted that I watch him. It’s not like he hasn’t known, he has caught me multiple times.
But it has always felt like a secret performance, something that neither of us acknowledge but we know it’s happening.
And I said it out loud, risking his ridicule or judgment.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to teach you some of my moves then.” His wink is playful and I offer a small smile back to him. The warning bell rings, letting us know we only have a few minutes until we’re going to be late for our classes.
I hand him his bag and he tucks it into his body.
“Bye, Jer.” He says, the nickname rolling easily off his tongue.
No one has ever called me a nickname, and the surprise of him calling me one has me smiling wildly as I turn my back to him and call, “Bye Raiden.” The whole way to the locker room, I can’t control my smile, the happy feeling blossoming in my body knowing that I have Raiden and he has me.