I broke the stare afraid that I was going to do something stupid. I could sense that he was coming closer. I could feel the rug move as he walked over to me. He sat down next to me leaning his back against the old red woolen rocker armchair. His long skinny jean clad legs crossed themselves and the tension that had been a thin string between us was now a heavy rope.
"Is that your record player, it’s really nice" he leaned closer to get a better look at it. His shoulder brushed lightly against mine.
"No its not, I found it just sitting in this room when I came in. It’s a CR49 Mini traveler Portable Turntable, Sony I think" I said pulling the record player closer to me. It was kind of heavy as I held it; I adjusted my legs and then placed it in my lap. Steven Tyler kept singing away.
"You know a lot about record players" he laughed. His laughter made my heart stop beating for more than a millisecond. I wanted to shoot myself in the foot, I shouldn’t be reacting like a girl who was crushing on her high school’s foot ball captain and got to talk to him for the first time in all the four years they went to high school for. I had Schuyler, I couldn’t forget about him.
"Yea, my mom uses to have one just like it before she-“I shook my head and stopped talking. I held my breath and closed my eyes.
"Before she what?" he asked quietly. I opened my eyes trying to stop the hot tears that were about to leak onto my face and make my cheeks all sticky. So far only Schuyler knew about my mom.
"Before she left me to go live out her dream as a drug addicted crack whore I said this time without choking filling the sentence with so much dry bitterness and sarcasm. That sentence popped out like word vomit. I didn’t even know him and I was telling him about my horrid mother. I probably scared him away. He probably thought I had the same problem. Why couldn’t I just keep my bit mouth shut? I let a curtain of my brown curls fall between us blocking my side view of him. The tension between us flickered just a bit like a flickering light up letter on the outside of a store
"Is that your record player, it’s really nice" he leaned closer to get a better look at it. His shoulder brushed lightly against mine.
"No its not, I found it just sitting in this room when I came in. It’s a CR49 Mini traveler Portable Turntable, Sony I think" I said pulling the record player closer to me. It was kind of heavy as I held it; I adjusted my legs and then placed it in my lap. Steven Tyler kept singing away.
"You know a lot about record players" he laughed. His laughter made my heart stop beating for more than a millisecond. I wanted to shoot myself in the foot, I shouldn’t be reacting like a girl who was crushing on her high school’s foot ball captain and got to talk to him for the first time in all the four years they went to high school for. I had Schuyler, I couldn’t forget about him.
"Yea, my mom uses to have one just like it before she-“I shook my head and stopped talking. I held my breath and closed my eyes.
"Before she what?" he asked quietly. I opened my eyes trying to stop the hot tears that were about to leak onto my face and make my cheeks all sticky. So far only Schuyler knew about my mom.
"Before she left me to go live out her dream as a drug addicted crack whore I said this time without choking filling the sentence with so much dry bitterness and sarcasm. That sentence popped out like word vomit. I didn’t even know him and I was telling him about my horrid mother. I probably scared him away. He probably thought I had the same problem. Why couldn’t I just keep my bit mouth shut? I let a curtain of my brown curls fall between us blocking my side view of him. The tension between us flickered just a bit like a flickering light up letter on the outside of a store
