I slipped silently and embaressed through my front door.
It was my mom. My high wore off as I realized what was about to happen. Her arms crossed and a scowl thrown across her aging face she piveted on her right heel and walked into her room. I breathed a sigh of relief and ran into my room. Once the door was shut, I sank to the floor.
My whole body ached. Today’s stress was tiring.
A tap at my window set my blood pounding in my ears and my heart in my throat. Hesitant as ever, I tiptoed to the window to see what, or who, it was.
Instantly a wave of calmness swept over me as I unlatched the lock to let Tom in.
I smiled. “Hey stranger.”
The T.V. in my room isn’t the best, but it gave us something to do. We snuggled up on top of my bed to watch reruns of The Flintstones. I found I loved the sound, my ear against his chest, of his chuckle at the cartoons’ corny lines.
The last thing I remember, though, was his fingers running absentmindedly through my hair before I fell asleep.