The Thing about Falling ✓

Thirty Four • Happy Birthday(?)

Athena

"You're back."

Owen came back to the dorm later that night, the wind slowly growing more chilly than normal now that December is quickly rushing by soon. It was still the last week of November. I sat up from my study desk and stood up to greet him.

"Yeah, I am." he said tiredly as he went inside the room, his voice seemingly strained and coarse. I didn't know what to say him about it and instead, chose not to bring it up.

"Happy birthday." I said, forcing a smile on my face. 

He turned his head slightly at me, his expression stone cold. It has been this way ever since that day.

"Thanks." he managed to say, slowly pivoting his chair towards his side of the room, removing his backpack from its handles. I stood there, watching him remove a small cupcake box from the inside of his bag and also, a familiar looking book. I raised my eyebrows at the sight of it and cleared my throat.

"Had fun with your parents?" I asked, walking toward his bed as I sat on his duvet and watched him organize his things.

From that time I saw that book, I instantly knew he lied to me.

He didn't meet his parents. He went somewhere else to meet either Marley or Calix. I was unsure since it had been a long time since I talked to Marley and a few days since I talked to Cal. Or maybe, he went out to see both. 

There was hesitation in his movements. The occasional stops between arranging things on his bedside table and the random time checks on his phone.

"Yeah." he answered.

I nodded.

"Okay." I said.

I watched him ignore me, his back turned away from me as he carefully placed his new book in his small shelf near his own study table. After the book was in its new home, Owen continued finding ways to not start a conversation with me. 

He was purposely doing things to keep him busy. 

I now sat on his bed with my legs crossed against each other, and watched him rearrange his school papers and notes. I even watched him remove his shoes, unveiling his feet clad in green and silver striped socks as he put his sneakers right around the door. I watched him pretend to go around his table and write some sort of reminder on a post-it and saw him stick it on his wall. It simply read, 'Get coffee at 8am,' in his neat, block writing.

I sighed.

"Owen." I called.

"What?" he said, seemingly annoyed.

I was not the least bit surprised to receive that kind of feedback from him. 

"Are you okay? Something seems to be bothering you. " I told him as he turned towards me, his expression stolid. His jaw was tense and I can see that his eyebrows were lowered and knit together. He stopped.

"You're avoiding me." I then followed, my voice almost to a hush. 

I didn't want to yell at him and ask him why he lied to me. I'm not that kind of person. I don't want to let my immaturity get ahead of me this time. I was not even the high schooler I was when I met him, all annoying and rash when it comes to my actions. 

Owen was tense and it was obvious that he didn't like the place I put him in. I straightened up in position to apologize for even telling him but he pushed his chair in my direction and stopped in front of me, his head hung low.

"To be honest, I'm not sure." he said shamefully.

He was bothered heavily by whatever's been bugging him. It pained me to see him this way, affected by some terror I may or may not be aware of.