Page 6 of In the Middle of No(ah)where (Rockport Ridge #2)
Noah
I dread going home, so I volunteer to help clean up the space once the event is over.
A few of the other middles I was hanging out with have also pitched in to help, and the laughter and banter continue.
Everyone's demeanor makes it clear that we have all slipped out of our younger mindset from earlier.
I'm looking forward to the next event. Everyone was so nice, and it was great meeting new people and starting new friendships.
"Carlos, have you found a roommate yet?" Emily calls from across the room, which stops me from stacking chairs.
"Not yet. It's hard to find someone to connect with who isn't judgmental with our lifestyle." Emily nods her head in understanding but doesn't say anything. "I'll find the right person."
Is this for real? I need to find a place, and here is someone I've been hanging out with who has been so welcoming.
Carlos is twenty-one and just finished his associate's degree at the local community college.
Would it be weird to ask him about the rental?
I don't know where he lives or what kind of space is for rent. It beats being homeless at eighteen.
After a few minutes of tossing around the idea, I bite the bullet and ask. "What kind of roommate are you looking for? I might be interested." I'm very interested but didn't want to sound too eager.
"Seriously?" Carlos' grin rivals that Disney cat, Ches-something, or other.
"It's an amazing apartment. Two bedrooms, each with an attached bathroom.
There's also a large balcony with a hammock on it.
Laundry room in the building. Pool. Hot tub, and a courtyard for lounging on nice days.
" He ticks off each amenity as if he's the leasing agent, and it sounds too good to be true. And most likely out of my price range.
"Is it furnished?"
"No. My old roommate took all her furniture with her when she moved out. But I could probably help you find stuff if you need it."
I'm sure I can take all my bedroom stuff. What's my mom going to do with it?
"How much is the rent?"
"You're seriously looking?" Carlos asks as if I'm pranking him.
"Yes," I say with a soft laugh. "I started looking for apartments the other day."
"The rent is eighteen hundred a month." He tells me, and my heart sinks. Fuck. I knew it was too good to be true. I let out a deep sigh.
"Ouch. Sorry, that's way over my budget. I could probably swing about a thousand."
He lets out a small laugh.
"Sorry, man. No, it's eighteen hundred for the whole apartment. Your share would only be nine hundred plus half of the utilities."
"Please tell me you're not joking."
"No joke."
"Then, yeah, I'd love to check it out whenever you have time."
I continue to stack chairs, and my shoulders feel lighter.
I glance over to where Marcus is helping pick up some of the toys in the little area.
He's talking to Shaun, the guy who was playing with Kai, and I remember he came here with his friend.
Marcus is such a nice guy, and I enjoyed my time with him today.
As much as I would love to have him help me navigate moving out of my parent's house and out on my own, I don't want to seem needy.
Sharon said daddies and mommies thrive on the caregiving role, but I need to navigate on my own for a while.
I don't want to lead him on only to realize that age play isn't necessarily my scene.
"Got plans after this?" Carlos asks, pulling my attention away from Marcus. "We could grab a pizza, head over to my place, and hang for a bit. I can show you around."
"That would be great. I have no plans." This will only prevent me from having to go home, and I'm okay with that.
As we head out, I glance over my shoulder and meet Marcus' eyes.
He lifts his hand in a small wave and smiles.
I do the same. Something inside of me feels wounded.
Would it be wrong to offer him my number so he can stay in contact?
I don't have a chance to dwell on it as Carlos nudges me toward the exit.
"Let's go."
???
Lying in bed, my thoughts go back to earlier in the day when I slipped into the little–er, middle?
—mindset. Peace covers me like a warm blanket, and my body relaxes.
During the transformation, I heeded Kai's advice about searching for a childhood memory.
Mentally, I placed myself in my bedroom, surrounded by posters of spaceships and aliens.
My favorite stuffed animal, Pompompurin, sat perched on my bed, as he does still to this day.
It was a silent, comforting peace.
The regression wasn't a choice; it felt like a natural response to the immense pressure, an involuntary escape from the overwhelming anxieties that had taken hold of me.
I found myself absorbed in the comfort of my younger self, letting go completely.
It felt like I could breathe after months of holding my breath.
At that moment, I understood the pull of age regression.
It was not some romanticized fantasy; it was a coping mechanism, a way to temporarily escape the relentless pressures of adulthood.
It was a place where I could find solace in the familiar comfort of a younger, simpler self.
I realized this wasn't a sign of weakness; it was a survival tactic, a way to navigate my internal turmoil and emotions.
Purin Island, my game, my escapism, was mirrored in my real-world ability to regress.
Two different forms of the same kind of retreat.
It wasn't just about escaping the pressure of the future; it was about escaping the pressure of being different, the pressure of being a gay teenager in a world that often seems unwelcoming—even in my own home.
The aliens I drew as a kid became a metaphor for my own sense of alienation and longing for connection and a sense of belonging.
I found a glimpse of that today at the center.
My retreat into age regression and my fascination with UFOs and aliens are two sides of the same coin–an attempt to find comfort and belonging in a world that often feels overwhelming and alienating.
In that comforting cocoon of middle space, I had no fear, no expectation, and just the unburdened delight of being nine again. But even in that state of bliss, the nagging knowledge remained that I would eventually have to face the future and the pressure of expectations.