Page 8 of In the Middle of No(ah)where
"Thank you," I tell Sharon while looking over at the group playing games. "I think I want to hang out with the middles if that's okay. It feels more like me." Is it weird that I'm interested in being a middle when I'm only eighteen? Technically… I'm a teen, and it's not that far of a leap from reality.
Her smile brightens her face. "May I introduce you to the group?"
"Yes, please. I'd like that."
Sharon makes the introductions, and I soon join the people on the bean bags. Chatting about nothing in particular, and before I knew it, my spot in the rotation was up to race.
After about an hour of hanging out, a strange sensation washes over me. It's a wave of calm so profound it's almost disorienting. My thoughts and body lighten. The familiar weight of my recent adult concerns about where to live seemed to dissolve into nothingness, replaced by a carefree abandon I hadn't felt since childhood. I look down at my hands; I'm still an adult but feel much smaller. Is this what little space feels like? Since I feel like I'm back to being nine again, would it be called middle space? I pull up memories of my nine-year-old self. My eyes widen with innocence and wonder.
After finishing my race, I toss the controller to the next person. "I'll be right back," I tell no one in particular as I get up and excuse myself from the group.
I just need a moment.
I'm unsure what to make of these new feelings, so I locate a quiet place to be alone. Emotions rack my body. My hand rubs the raised marks on my left forearm that I can feel underneath my long-sleeved tee. Wrapping my arms around my torso, I rock myself back and forth to soothe some of my uncertainty.
A warm hand lands on my shoulder, and a soft, deep voice pulls my attention.
"Hey, buddy, are you alright?" the handsome, older man with scruff and dark eyes asks. His voice washes over me, soothing some of these emotions.
"Yeah. I'm okay." I say, my voice sounding much younger. I have this strong desire to lean into his touch. So, I do.
We sit silently for a minute, his hand never leaving my shoulder, which grounds me in a way I've never felt before except when I was cutting myself.
"Can I get you anything? Maybe a snack," he asks tentatively.
I give a slight nod but remain silent. The man stands, reassuringly squeezing my shoulder. "I'll be right back," he tells me before walking to the refreshment area.
That was very nice of the stranger. He doesn't even know me, but he's checking to ensure I'm alright. My heart pangs with an ache that he cares more about me at this moment than my own parents do. My eyes start to sting. Why would he do that? Sharon's words come back, "…any of the caregivers here will be more than happy to help you…we have a natural caregiver instinct." I let myself relax and take what I need in this moment. Right now, I just need someone to be with me and tell me that everything will work out.
"Here ya go, buddy." The man hands me a package of fruit snacks and punches the straw through the top of the juice box before handing it over. I take a sip. The cool liquid coating my throat.
"Th-thank you."
"First time here?" He sits back down next to me on the sofa and turns to face me with his foot tucked under one leg. I wish he would put his hand back on my shoulder. It was comforting. But he doesn't.
"Yeah. I recently learned about age play and thought I would explore it. I didn't think it was really my thing, but then––"
"You slipped into the mindset," the stranger finishes for me.
It wasn't a question, but I answered him anyway: "Yeah. I'm not sure how it even happened. One minute, I was playing a video game, and the next, I felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience or something similar. It was a bit overwhelming."
"I figured that's what happened when I saw you come over here to be alone. I was watching your group of friends having a good time, but then something in you shifted. I hope you don't mind that I came over to check on you," he tells me, and there is something in his voice that sounds sincere—like he was really concerned for me.
"I actually like that you did. It's nice having you here with me and checking on me. I'm Noah, by the way." I hold my hand out for him. He looks at my hand and smiles at the gesture before taking it in his. His hands are calloused and rough but warm.
"What great manners you have, Noah. I'm Marcus. Or Marc. Whichever you prefer."
"Not Daddy?" I ask with knitted brows, and Marcus lets out a bark of laughter.
"You really are new to this, aren't you?" He teases me with a light punch to my shoulder, and I nod. "The title of daddy is earned. Since we just met, Marcus or Marc is appropriate."
"Do you attend these meetups often, Marcus?" I ask him, sliding my hand between the cushions while wishing the couch would swallow me from embarrassment.
"Not really. I am a daddy, but I live a couple of hours from here. I'm in town on business and will be heading out tomorrow. I extended my trip by an extra day to attend the playdate. A couple of friends of mine told me about it." His smile is soft and kind.
"Are they daddies too?" I ask.
"Since one is here with me today, I don't mind telling you, yes. Shaun is over there playing dolls with one of the littles. He enjoys playtime with them." I glance over and see a man who looks to be in his late twenties to early thirties sitting next to Kai, holding up a dress to one of the dolls. Kai crinkles his nose and shakes his head before giggling at something Shaun says.
