I was hiding in my room already haven given up on trying to have breakfast. My throat was too sore to swallow anything and my stomach too upset to hold it in. I was wandering around the room. Trying to find something to pack that I would be able to finish by the time he came. But maybe not. Maybe I was looking for something that would take too much time. With the chance that I could keep my mind off of him until he got here.

My eyes fell on the clock. It was ten minutes until 10:45. It wouldn’t be long now. This is too early. Too quick, I thought to myself. My stomach grumbled and I pictured myself throwing up on him as I said goodbye. I should’ve told him to come at night. Screw the other visitors who were coming then. It would’ve been so much better if he came after he got out of work. Maybe I would’ve been able to eat something by then, cleared my thoughts, my head. My ears tuned into the sound of mom’s voice in the kitchen. Maybe she would make me hot tea or something.

I slowly made my way down the stairs and turned into the hallway that led outside and opened up into the kitchen. He was there. On the other side of the glass door. I don’t know which was more surprising. Seeing him so unexpectedly or smiling for the first time that day. I kept my slow pace as I enjoyed one of my last looks at the handsome man he was. He was standing on our front step wearing a blue and white baseball tee that drew attention to his lean figure as well as the pink undertones usually well hidden under his tan skin. It wasn’t until I open the door to let him in that I realized he was freshly showered. His black hair, curling contently untouched on his head. His glasses, revieling the slightest hint of fog from the rush of cool air that came in with him.
“Were you waiting long?” I asked. He assured me casually that it was just a minute. I silently watched him rub the bottom of skate shoes on the carpet before I asked him how he was. Good was the usual and expected response. He lifted his eye to my face to ask me how I, myself was. He noticed my outstretched arm at the same time and moved to let me wrap it around his side. I gave him a squeeze and closed my eyes to embrace the feeling of his strong arm holding me for a moment. At this point I knew I had waited a few seconds too long to reply that I was okay. When I did, it came out of my mouth quietly and well practiced. I led him into the kitchen to find Allie making toast and my mom boiling eggs.

We were behind them so I said “Look who showed up” as if we weren’t expecting his company, and they turned around with smiles and greetings.

I noticed that my hands were shaking... Again. Allie walked over to give Lucas a hug and I took the oppertunity to grab myself a cup of water in hope of concealing my nervousness. My mom, kept her distance, warning him that she was one of the many in the house who had caught the flu. I made a joke about him being a brave soul to enter our infected house, and he gave me laugh and smile that only confirmed it. I took a sip out of my cup and James bounded down the stairs while pulling up the pants that somehow managed to slip off of his big bottom. Hey man! he said casually and Lucas replied with a hey and a hand shake.

I let my siblings and mom do most of the talking as I clutched my cup till my knuckles grew blotchy and red. Adding comments from time to time and laughs only when it seamed appropriate. My stomach was growing more and more uneasy at the smell of food, and I felt slightly lightheaded. Keep you eyes on him, I told myself.
His somehow peaceful demeanor was comforting. He was unfolding his arms to tell an entertaining story about the time his lung collapsed. He had this way out of taking life’s terrible moments and making them better. It provoked laughter out of Allie and James and anxiety in the eyes of my mother.

“Your lung collapsed?” She asked gently in that way that only mothers can. He went on to explained the story I knew well. A growth disorder, expanding ribcage, stretching air cavities, the rush to the hospital, and the recovery. His hand moved to the scar the size of a bullet wound on the left side of his rib cage and with that my dad walked into the room.

“Lucas” my dad said.

“Mr. A”, he replied and the men leaned in to shake on it. Lucas asked how the moving was going and my dad sighed as he explained the extent of the long process. James started to tell Lucas a story, and my dad excused himself to do more work. I can’t say I wasn’t upset with my father for it. He could at least have given a simple ‘Good to see you.’ I often wondered if Lucas was scared by my father’s serious demeanor but if he was, he never let on. As he walked by a minute later I caught him give Allie a wide eye expression. If anything but annoyance it said why is Hannah’s admirer still here? To say goodbye! my mind replied in anguish. Whatever was left in my stomach from days past started pushing itself upwards, and I quickly swallowed another sip of water to put it back in it’s place.

After James had finished his story Allie took the responsibility of letting Lucas know that it was about time we get back to work. He took the clue and said goodbye to James first who wandered away directly after. He moved to give Allie a hug and my mom broke her word and gave him a goodbye hug as well. I felt the tears come to my eyes as I pressed myself into his chest and the smell of his sweet cologne. I tried not to hold him too long but I let my hand linger on his back as it to say I won’t really let you go.  He sent his best wishes to all and I followed him out, suddenly agitated by the presence of others. With my mother and my sister behind me, we watched him open the glass door and descend the steps. I left them there to watch him disappear. I turned and bounded quickly up the steps to my bedroom.

With my body curling up on my bed, I let the weeping begin. The steaming tears that turned into painful sobs. I heard his car start outside and roll off the gravel driveway. I held my ribs, my hands fingering the bullet like wound on my right as I gasp for breathe between my sobs.

Once the tears can no longer run, and my heart can’t hurt anymore I find my phone in my covers. I stare at the luminescent screen for a few minutes. It bares a message I didn’t see before.

Dec. 29. 10:37am
I’m here

Not anymore