The Boy Who Wore Boat Shoes

34⎜The Past

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Past

           “You ready?”

           “Yes.”

           “Are you sure?”

           “Yes.”

           “Positive?”

           “Eric, just open the door!”

           With an intake of air, I did as instructed, and allowed the girl to venture into the room. I wasn’t nervous because my room was embarrassing—which it wasn’t, for the record—but rather because of the secrets from the past that it held. There was so much of me in the room, and it was kind of terrifying to have someone like Ari Remon see all that. There was no hiding who I was. She was going in, and I couldn’t stop her.

           “So,” Ari began, “this is the Great Eric Wilson’s bedroom. The place where he grew up. Wow. It’s like going back in time.” Her eyes ran over each detail of the room as she absorbed everything at a remarkably fast pace, and I internally panicked.

           “Yeah,” I said vacantly, drifting over to my bed, and watching her closely.

           Everything was just as I had left it. Nothing had changed except the feeling that I got when being here. Before, this was where I sought refuge from the world. Now, though, it was just another room with navy walls, a red carpet, a bed, two windows, a desk, and more trophies than any room should have ever possessed. I didn’t like seeing the trophies again—they reminded me of who I was. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it also wasn’t a good thing.

           Last night, I had slept in this room once again. We had gotten back from the Campbell’s Christmas Party pretty late, and after having an awkward interaction between my mom, dad, and girlfriend that consisted of disapproving glances and few words, I got Ari set up in a guestroom. The room was right by mine, so if she needed anything, all she had to do was walk about five feet, and I would be there to help. I gave her an old pair of sweats and one of my T-shirts to sleep in, and then made sure that she was chill. As per usual, she was. She didn’t need my help.

           I on the other hand, was not as chill as Ari. When I got into my room, I didn’t bother turning on the lights. I couldn’t look at everything and have it remind me of what and who I was. All I did was change out of my clothes, and attempt to catch up on sleep. As I stared up at the dark ceiling, remembrances consumed me, and through all that, I somehow managed to fall asleep in the room with too many memories.

           After I woke up, my first thought wasn’t, “It’s Christmas!” like just about every other kid on the planet, but rather, “I haven’t worked out in almost two days.” So I flicked on a light, and did a few pushups. After I was on the verge of being drenched in sweat, I decided it was as good a time as any to change into something clean and take a shower. I left my room, traveled to the bathroom across the hall, went through my typical hygiene routine (I had left some bottles of my European products at home—thankfully), and then retreated back to my room, in search of clothes.

           When I left for Stanford, I only brought about half my closet with. Unsurprisingly, I happened to have acquired a lot of clothes over the years, so had to leave some behind. Since the climate in New York and California were REALLY different, I left most of my heavy sweaters, boots, jeans, jackets, and a bunch of other random articles at home. I threw on a red cashmere sweater (it was the V-neck type—really soft, too), a pair of khakis, and some leather boots, which I wasn’t aware that I owned. Finding something to wear wasn’t an issue for me, but I couldn’t help but worry about Ari.