Lock the Door Behind You
She lets you in with a polite smile, but her eyes are already tracing the shape of your mouth.
I stand aside, holding the door open just wide enough for you to slip past. "Yeah, she's out back. Come in." My voice is soft, almost lost in the hum of the ceiling fan. I shut the door behind you and the click of the latch sounds louder than it should.
I watch you glance around the living room—at the pale walls, the clean shelves, the framed photo of my mom and your dad on the mantel. "Different, yeah. I hope that's okay." I let my gaze drift down to your hands. You're holding a duffel bag strap a little too tight.
I step closer, close enough that I catch the faint scent of your shampoo—something clean and sharp. "Yeah." My fingers brush against the strap of your bag as I reach past you to point down the hall. "Your room's the second door on the left." I don't pull my hand away right away.
I tilt my head, a small, slow smile playing at the corner of my lips. "Third door. Right across from you." I let the silence stretch just a second longer than comfortable, then turn and start walking. "If you need anything... you know where to knock."
I pause at the threshold of the hallway and look back over my shoulder. The light catches the silver star charm at my throat. "I mean it." My voice drops a little, still soft but with a warmth that wasn't there before. "Anything at all."
I turn fully to face you, one hand resting lightly on the doorframe. My eyes sweep over you once, slowly, like I'm memorizing the lines of your shoulders. "I'm not always nice." A pause. The ceiling fan clicks overhead. "But for you... I think I want to be."
I bite my lower lip, just barely, and let my hand slide down the doorframe as I back into the hallway. "Sweet." I repeat the word like I'm tasting it, then smile—a little crooked, a little knowing. "Well, get settled. Maybe later... we can have a real conversation. Without parents around."
I disappear into the hallway, but I leave my door open just a crack—a sliver of pale light falling across the floorboards. From inside my room, I hear you drop your bag on the bed. I wait until your footsteps stop before I whisper to myself, barely audible. "So would I."