midnight caller

The doorbell rang at 11:45 on homecoming night.

It didn't matter what night it was, it was going to wake my dad. And I was going to get grounded. I decided I should at least see who it was and hope I could make it to the door first.

The moment I looked out the window, my heart literally caught fire. Burst into flames, I kid you not. It was him. The guy I'd had a crush on since I was ten years old.

The door to my parents' room flew open, hard. I braced for some wrath. My only hope was to tell my dad who was at the door and see if it softened the impact:

"Alan is at our front door. At midnight. On homecoming."

My dad was well aware of my crush on Alan. His eyes grew wide, and he gave me an amused "Wellllll...." and went back to bed without another word.

You really can't imagine the mixture of adrenaline and joy that was coursing through my veins as I reached for that door handle.

But Alan didn't look happy to see me. My adrenaline and joy faded to concern. Fast.

Without much more than a "Hey how was homecoming?", he launched into a complete rundown of his evening. He had taken a senior girl to the dance, had left to party with her and her friends, and then she drove off and left him: dumped, humiliated, hurt, and angry.

Even as he spoke, the reality of standing on the porch with him was hitting me. He was upset, and he wanted to come to see me. Not to pretend he was fine, not to be distracted from what had happened. He thought that I was someone safe to talk to, and he was trusting me with the fact that he had been rejected. He was completely vulnerable in that moment, and I did my best to listen, to encourage, and to reassure. I wanted to be exactly what he needed.

As he drove away in his El Camino that night, I leaned back against the front door in wonder. My heart was full. I had never felt so close to him, and it was absolutely intoxicating.


Author's Note: This was not the first time Alan had confided in me, but it's one of the strongest emotional memories I have. It was significant in that it was the first time I realized he that he came to talk to me because he knew he would feel better. That one of his first decisions after being hurt was to come see me.

I shifted from writing the scene into relaying my internal dialogue about halfway through because I really don't remember what he said that night. How it made me feel was what stuck with me.