Pencils & Polaroids

20: being anyone hurts

Do you know why people preach never to lie? Because the one who lies is unaware of when to stop. 

The ride from the arid land plot to my house is where I understood the accurate weight behind people's sayings. With my eyes glued close, I didn't know when would be the right time to snap them open. Procrastination took over my spontaneity when I forecasted what my response to his compliment would be. And because there was no response that wouldn't be awkward, I kept my eyes closed for longer than scheduled. 

Only, now we were parked in front of my house and Rainer had got off his seat and was rounding his car to approach mine. Conversely, he was taking longer than I slated. In my head, it would take nearly ten steps if he chose the front round-up, and seventeen steps if he decided to loom up from the back of the car. But it's been fifty-three seconds and him still not turning up is making me want to break free from my cover. 

I'm just about to open my eyes when the door beside me opens and a rush of cold October air turns my skin to ice. I lose track of half a minute when his scent permeates my nostrils. By the time my head stops spinning, I'm no longer trapped behind the seat belt's strap. 

The touch of his arms supporting my back and underneath my knees pushes me into the chary zone. Unstumbled, I'm raised off the car seat and cradled in his arms which just proved to be highly skilled and strong. I hear the door shut and more breeze envelops me as he begins to walk. 

This should've been my cue to open my eyes, jump out of his arms, and run into my house so I can hide. But neither am I a child and nor do I want to get out of an opportunity where I'm being carried to my house. It's a nice change from having to walk. Warmer, safer, less lonely, and more . . . comfortable. 

His footsteps elevate and I work out that he's reached my porch. Just as he stops climbing, I hear the familiar creek of my front door. It stuns me because there is no way my mother could've sensed me coming in her sleep to wake up on her own and come all the way to welcome me in. 

Then it all makes sense. His round-up was late because he was smart enough to ring the doorbell before coming to get me. 

"Huh," I hear my mother scoff. "Definitely looks like a nightmare." 

I guess there's no more waking up now. 

My head is not on the heart's side of Rainer's chest but I can hear the pace of his heartbeat drastically increase all the way from here when my mother talks. 

"It's--not what it looks like," Rainer's voice is a scam. He's speaking in his weapon voice that's low, sugarcoated, and highly misleading. If he told unicorns existed in that voice, the world would believe unicorns existed. That voice can make anyone do anything. That, is the voice that makes him everyone's favorite. That, is his way out of trouble.

Except, I'd been feeding intel about this same voice and tactics to my mother for over five years. If I can recognize it so quickly, I'll bet my life she already has.

"She's not dead," Rainer interrupts. "I didn't kill her. She's just--she was tired and she fell asleep--"

"Fell asleep?" My mother chuckles with spite. "Is that what you kids call getting drunk and passing out these days?" 

Rainer's silence tells me he either closed his eyes in regret or looked away because my mother was precisely talking like me, but the only difference was he wouldn't retort back. He was honor-bound to shut up. I wish I had that kind of power. 

"Alright," he sighs. "She got drunk and passed out in my car, but in my defense, I tried to prevent this from happening." I cannot believe he ratted me out to my mother and played the victim card for saving himself. "I'm just dropping your daughter off--and nothing happened between us."