Burns

Burn

Snow, appears from the sky falling silently onto the grass. Thick winter blankets lay under our backs. Moon hangs over our heads like my new leotard that hangs in my closet, untouched, and unaffected by life. It’s not stretched in any way, has no chalk or armpit stains on it. It has not been caught in the Velcro yet, or been scraped against the beam. His legs, straddle over my body. He kisses me. He gently touches my cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb. His hands are cold. He kisses me again, harder this time. I push away. We lay under the starless sky. The highway buzzing at our late night. He grabs my hand. I’m red, he’s cold. His eyes are tired and reflecting the streetlights, as he looks to me. He whispers in my ear. My body tightens. I breathe out heavily. I need to do a handstand, or cartwheel, because I need to say it back. My lips never move.

The paper snowflake hangs on the tree. The day after Thanksgiving. Kolby, his nephew, planked on his shoulder, “you’re an airplane now!” I smile; this could be us one day. I could end up happy. Kolby puts his arms out for the airplane wings. He giggles, I smile. I can finally see us in four years, married with kids. Stop thinking that! This was never supposed to happen. I was supposed to have a crush, have fun, and get out. I was never supposed to picture it lasting. I realize that I’m screwed.

Light snow falls softly against our frozen faces. Trees dance with color to Christmas songs. I grab his hand, and shove it into my pocket. I look at him and he gives me a kiss. His lips are cold. My lips finally move. I jump off a cliff and to my death.

Snow makes earth harder, slippery and white. I wait for him at the bottom of the hill. He slides down the hill on his feet. Down, down, down to his back. I run to him, and he grunts. “Want to make-out in the car?” I nod.

White powdered snow covered the windshield of the white van. He asks, again. I say no, again. His hands slip under clothing. “Tyler no!” I smack his hand. He gives a frustrated sigh. “We should be getting back. My Mom is probably freaking out.”

No snow today, as usual, the streets are cracked, bare and dry. My eighteenth birthday, “I’m having a dinner tonight for my birthday, you should come!” He refuses, making up excuses, “I don’t have money, my parents will say no,” all of the above. Stephanie, my cousin, talks some sense into him. White pasta, college stories, falling to the ground in embarrassment. My stomach aches, I am laughing too much. We have been separated too long, it feels like it has been years since we sat in the back hallway of our large church talking about tasting the color pink. Sophia’s house, as usual, smells like cookies and something organic. The basement is cold, but we heat it up quickly with heavy breaths of laughter. We laugh for hours. First until eleven, then until twelve, then one, and soon two in the morning. My stomach feels like it does when I finally nail a new skill during gymnastics practices. It hurts, but for a thousand good reasons.

Snow is marked as the door opens, I run outside. Ticked, and relieved. “I am so sorry,” he explains. Everything went wrong. He gives me a necklace. He pulls flowers from behind his back. “Happy Valentines Day!” Our lips touch, for a long time. My Mom watches, and probably scolds. I don’t care.

Snow day! Instead of hanging out, I sit in a mutilated pile on the couch. I watch movies until Sophia calls me. “What happened?” I mumble, “I’m coming to pick you up.”

Four inches of snow almost cancels the high school gymnastics district meet. But we get the go ahead, and start driving. Anderson Arena, he was supposed to be here. My good luck charm.

The first snowfall of the year, I tell Katie the story. I asked him to prom, got back together, the perfect month we had over the summer. Then the fighting started. Move in day, and now the silence. He calls me; I convince him that we are good together. We don’t break up.

I slip on the snow on my way out the door. Three days before Christmas, Sunday afternoon. We exchange gifts; give words of affirmation, “Have a safe flight!” He leaves after three minutes.

Snow boots are supposed to protect my ankles. My coat rips on the sleeve. Tyler goes down the hill, by my side. He gains speed, he passes me, thinking I have it. I lose my balance; I roll down the hill and hear a crack. My right ankle burns, twisted in the boot. “Tyler!” My eyes burn with my ankle. “Tyler!”

The snow lands in my hair, and leaving the little strands in crystals of sugar. He takes off his glove and places it under my head. A layer between my head, and the snow. He rubs my forehead, it brings me comfort.

Snow is packed into a bag, and wrapped around my ankle. He carries me to the car, and places me in my seat, “I love you.” He says, and I believe him. He carries me into the restaurant for dinner, and carries me to my doorstep. “Don’t slip on the snow,” I joke. He laughs and gives me a kiss goodbye as he leaves me with my mother.

The snow is so thick nobody will take me to church. Tyler picks me up. He rubs my back, on the spare bed and stops for a moment. A little box dangles in front of my face. “Happy Nineteenth birthday.” His Mom makes me a cake and spaghetti. We watch movies and I fall asleep to his heartbeat. I spent it with people I love, so it was a good birthday despite missing church. We pose for a picture, with my bulky boot down on the bottom right corner.

The snow melts through my pants as I sit down on a snow covered bench. “You have feelings for her? Then please, for the sake of our relationship, please stop being friends with her! Oh you’re not? Then come up to see me, spend the day with me this weekend. Whatever, goodbye.”

                  Snow rushes through the doors of Best Hall as he leaves, everything is okay now. He kisses me, “I’ll see you in a week.” I smile. He walks out the door, “wait, Tyler! I have a meet next week!” He shrugs, “then in two weeks! I love you,” I can see his lips move to the words, and I believe their shape, their sound, their sincerity. I blow him a kiss. But that last sentence contained the two biggest lies I have ever been told.

                  Snow day number two, the university is closed, and I am stuck inside. The Face Time call comes. He gives me the ultimatum, and I make my choice. I vomit, getting him out of my system. I say one final goodbye and pull up my leotard, ready for practice. I shut my computer, and throw on boots. I run outside and fall flat to my back in the snow. I let it soak through my spandex, and burn my bare legs. I grab it with my bare hands and feel the flakes cold diversity on my cheeks as my hot tears melt it. I lay there burning. Going numb. Putting up my barriers for any other guy that tries to get through. Until Katie finds me, in my leotard, spandex and boots lying in four feet of snow or until I fall asleep. I’m not sure which one.