The Blanket — 5
#6 of The Blanket
Living in a suburb was a good thing, at least if you had angst and friends. Ed had measures of both of those things, and whether or not they were equal amounts was a question up in the air. He'd pulled away from most of his social circles, now that Koda had tugged him into her little arena of early teenage love. The tall girl with the lanky legs and the budding breasts was still something to drool over, and her personality didn't really seem the crinkle or deteriorate to Ed. She was always refreshing.
Autumn was rolling in, October prowling over the landscape and silently painting the trees red. October is silent about it too. It wasn't quite sweater weather yet, but it was getting there. Low seventies, on a daily basis.
Living in a suburb was a good thing, if you had a girlfriend who lived in the same suburb. A walk away was Koda's front door, a walk away was Koda's soft fur and mischievous kisses.
The sky was being blanketed over with clouds and shadow as night tucked the day in to sleep. A little lamp ejactulated light onto Ed's bed as he read the graphic novel Koda had given him. He didn't spend as much time as he probably could've reading it. His time was torn between school and Koda, and Ed didn't think a book could ever be a distraction from a girl. That didn't make sense.
After about three pm, Koda had gone home, shed said that this is when her dad was getting back and that she needed to show up before he did. Ed's mom was off of work of Saturdays, and she let him out to roam. Neither Annie nor Franklin had made any mention of Ed and Koda being together, it was strange.
Ed's appetite was asking for orange juice. The fridge had orange juice and Ed intended to settle a trade deal between the two. The first step was stepping out of his bedroom in the rest of the household.
Step two was encroaching upon the territory of the fridge and removing the orange juice from its location in the fridge. As he poured himself a glass, he could see Annie on the couch on the phone. He could see the back of her head, and the tv was playing commercials at a low volume. The sound of the orange juice pouring into his glass brought no reaction from her and the vessel of orangey goodness was safely ensconced back in the fridge. He sat down at the bar in the kitchen to sip his drink and listened in on her conversation. He could hear the tinny quality of a male voice from the phone, surrounded by the aural strata of the television and the fan and Annies voice and Ed's breathing. Words float on the water of the air as words do, easily fished out and listened to.
She was speaking to someone about an event. An upcoming one, about an offday that they both shared. It didn't take any mental gymnastics to figure that Annie was speaking to someone anout setting up a date, someone familiar. Annies voice would let little laughs out, and it reminded Ed of a blanket on a line, drying in the wind and rustling minutely against itself. Annie ran her fingers through her hair, on the listening side of the conversation now, little "mhm"s and "yeah"s coming from her lips. The television returned to its normal programming, Ed could see, but Annie wasn't intrigued.
They made silly jokes, and Ed sipped his orange juice very slowly, allowing his mouth to take a moment or three to contemplate the unique qualities of medium pulp. He was blushing, listening in on this, a hot red thing. He knew his mom, he knew how lonely she would get sometimes and he was happy for her that she was stepping back out into things like the swirling pool of post-divorce romance.
That blush was an itch that he didn't know the source of, it was like the skin that flakes up from the burnt skin under sun washed fur, it was like a callous on the foot of a person who never walks. He finished his glass and put it in the dishwasher, and as he walked away he thought he could hear his name, he thought he could hear Koda's too.