Page 23 of The Legend Next Door
My jaw clicks and my chest aches from a tidal wave of love with nowhere to go. I’m too full and too empty, and I wish to God I knew how to let it out, but I don’t.
I close the curtains quickly. Roughly. Not caring when a few hooks snap off and go flying. I work my way around the room like I always do, stopping when I get to the window closest to my bed.
Jeremiah is on his yoga mat. I’ve come to bed a little later than usual, so I’m only catching the tail end of his set tonight. He’s sitting, cross-legged, with a hand resting on each knee. I’ve never watched for long enough to see this part. His eyes are closed, lips pressed lightly together. His chest rises and falls in a slow and controlled motion. Infinitely slow, infinitely controlled, yet it looks easy.
The light behind him is pink tonight. A warm watermelon hue that radiates around him.
They change every few days, the colors of the lights in his living room and bedroom. I’m not sure if they’re on an automatic setting or if he changes them manually. If he does, I wonder what makes him choose the colors. I wonder what makes him think,hmm, I’m feeling pink today, not purple or blue.
He still hasn’t moved.
He’s still breathing easy.
As I watch him, I gradually become aware that my own breathing is slowing.
I breathe in.
And out.
In
Out
A feeling of calm washes over me, and my organs return to their normal size and eventually settle into the cavities meant for them.
Next door, Jeremiah’s eyelids flutter and his eyes open.
I know I should draw the last of the curtains now. It’s time. More than time. But I also know he can’t see me. I know it for a fact because I looked up at my window when I was in his yard this morning. My windows are completely opaque, whited out by the sheer curtains. I was a little unsure of how much visibility the gauzy fabric blocked before, so I’ve been watching him with most of my body hidden, only the top quadrant of my face peeking at him.
Tonight, I’m standing directly in front of the window.
Jeremiah rolls his shoulders and smiles to himself, sighing and pursing his lips together in a way that makes it look like he’s saying, “Mm.”
His cheeks are a little pinker than usual, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the lighting or his workout.
They were pink this morning too, when we were sitting on the lawn together. Bright, rosy pink. A quick burst of color just under his skin, caused by blood vessels opening wide enough to make him flush. The blush made his lips look darker, his teeth whiter, and his eyes bluer than blue.
He looks like that now too.
16
DearLiz,
IthinkJeremiahflirted with me today. Okay, okay, fine, I’ll tell you what happened, but only if you promise not to laugh—he called me Captain.
God. Why would I think that was flirting?
That’s ridiculous. Forget I said anything.
I love you and I miss you, and I’m a dumb fuck.
Love,
Ben
PS I know you’re laughing.
17
