Seven

After school the next day, I prepared for Gideon to come over after school. When I walked in the door, my mom was waiting for me. 

“Riley, I’m having some friends over who I met at work. We’ll be in the living room, so please don’t bother us,” she said as she lit her favorite maple-pumpkin candle. 

“Wait, Mom,” I said. “I’m having a friend over. We have to work on a school project.” 

She looked up at me, her eyebrows raised. “Oh.” She looked back down at the candle and hesitated. “Well, I’m sure my friends won’t mind if we meet in the backyard. We have such a lovely lake now, I might have to spend all my time down there.”  

I nodded, but I wasn’t really listening. 

“I’ll leave this candle here for you and your new friend,” she said. 

“Gideon,” I said, correcting her vague ‘your new friend’. 

She stood up and looked at me. “Oh. The same boy who dropped you off yesterday?” 

I nodded and she smiled. “Okay! Well, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” She turned and walked around the corner. 

 

My mom probably wouldn’t have thought in a million years that I’d have a friend over. That’s how little my parents 

thought of me. Sure, I had friends at my old school. But they never came over. My parents never met them. Therefore, to them, they didn’t exist.  

I took my computer out of my backpack and sat down on the futon. My mom came back not long after with a bowl of candy corn.  

“Mom, what-…" 

“In case you guys want a little snack,” she coaxed, cutting me off. 

“Candy corn is not a little snack. It’s just sugar.” 

She ignored me, unfazed. Suddenly, I heard a knock and my mom started walking toward the door.  

“Hey!” I scolded. She turned to look back at me. “No. Leave,” I said, as I pointed toward the back door. 

“But can’t I meet your new friend?” I rolled my eyes. “Gideon, I mean. Can’t I meet-…" 

“No.” We had a little staring contest before she finally turned toward the back door. 

“Okay, okay, fine. My friends will be here soon anyway. Have fun!!” She turned to smile at me before closing the door behind her. 

I took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nervous energy my mom had created. 

Then I walked forward and opened the door. Gideon was standing there with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing the same dark shirt and navy-blue jean jacket he had worn at school. 

“Hi,” he said.  

“Hey.” I stepped back and held the door open. 

He passed to enter my house and I shut the door behind him. I led him into the living room, and he smiled and plopped down on the futon. “Ooh, candy corn!” he said, noticing the bowl of candy. He reached into the bowl and took a handful.  

“Okay,” I started. “Which poem do you want to analyze?” 

He turned to face me and hesitated. “Tell me your ideas first.”  

“Well...” I looked at the ground for a moment, and then back up at him. “We should choose a poem that means something to us.” He nodded.  

“Like, if there’s a poem that stands out to one of us...” I noticed him glance slightly down. It seemed to me that he was looking at my lips. 

No, probably not. Why would he? Then he looked back at my eyes. “...then we should use that one,” I continued. 

“Easier to relate to.” 

He nodded again and his eyebrows furrowed, but not in an angry way. “Totally.” And then his eyes glanced back to the same spot below my eyes. It was obvious this time. He was looking at my lips. But again, only for a second before they shifted back up. 

“So, what poem stands out to you, Shakespeare?” he asked as he casually stretched his arm around my shoulders. I froze. I didn’t know what to do.  

“I told you not to call me Shakespeare.” 

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Fine. Riley?” 

I hesitated. “What are you doing?” I asked. I leaned away from him, so his arm fell from my shoulder. We held eye contact for a few moments, but I had a hard time ignoring his black eye.  

Then he said, ““Enemy of Death.” Let’s choose that one.” 

Hm. An interesting choice. I’d read the poem before. It's quite sad. Regardless, I agreed with Gideon. “Alright.” 

 

~ 

 

 

We read the poem silently for a while, trying to decipher its meaning. I began to grow tired of looking at words, so I looked at Gideon. His black eye was bugging me. I needed to know what happened. 

 

“Gideon,” I said. 

He looked up at me. I stayed silent for a moment, not sure if I should ask him about it again. “What happened to your eye?” 

His face dropped, like he was dreading the question. “Nothing. Like I said.” 

“It’s not nothing.” 

Gideon smiled a little, but replied, “It doesn’t matter. I just got into a stupid fight. Okay, Riley?” 

I felt like he was keeping something from me, but it looked he wasn’t going to elaborate. “Okay.” 

He continued looking at me. Maybe longer than he should have. “So...,” he started. “How’s it going with Emma?” 

I inhaled. By now, the scent of the candle my mom lit was strong. Maple and pumpkin scents wafted through the air. “Fine,” I said. 

“Really?” he asked. 

I hesitated. “Yea.” 

“Really?” 

I nodded. “Yes, why?”  

“I just don’t know why anyone would want to date her,” he replied. “She gives me a headache. And she doesn’t really seem like your type...” 

I smiled and shrugged, but Gideon knew he was right. Then he reached across me for another handful of candy corn.  

He ran a hand through his messy, platinum hair. “What are you doing for Halloween?” 

“Probably nothing. Why?” 

Gideon shrugged. “I don’t know. We should hang out.” 

I looked at him. “Why?” I asked. 

He grinned. “Why not?” 

 

We talked for a little longer, and then he left.