29. With You #2
He reaches for the drink, but he hesitates. “Why did you get the lemon drink?”
“You like lemon.”
“Noya…” Conner smiles as he leans towards me. “I wanted you to have the best experience of eating pizza, considering this is your first time.”
“And I am,” I reply. “I’m having pizza with you.”
After a few more minutes, Conner moves the vegetarian box to the back seat. My focus lingers on his pants when he clears his throat. Feeling ashamed of looking, I pay attention to the pepperoni pizza on my lap.
Conner reverses, saying he wants to go somewhere else for us to eat. Then, he grabs a slice of pizza and eats it as he drives.
“Conner, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Shoot.”
“The money…is it your parents?”
“No,” he says. “The money I spend is from when I worked and the pieces of art I sell online. The only money my parents give me is lunch money.”
“Oh…”
“You don’t have to worry about any of that. I enjoy spending my money on you. It’s the most rewarding thing I do.”
“I can’t repay you,” I whisper as my hands tighten on the pizza box. “I can’t return the favour or take you out for food.”
“I don’t care about that. What brings me joy is to see you smile.”
“Conner…” My bottom lip trembles. “Thank you.”
I grab a slice of pizza, and the grease and a string of melted cheese oozes down. Cupping the pizza with two hands, I bite into the tip. This cheesy, garlic, and salty flavour fills my mouth with delight, and my eyes widen at the flavours bursting on my taste buds.
All the memories of two-minute noodles, repetitive pasta from the tin, and toast without spread fade and are non-existent as I bite more into pizza, taking every inch in, for this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Mum and Dad would never buy me pizza. Even knowing I could afford it, the thought of something at the moment rather than lifelong things never appealed to me.
I wanted the air-con, and now, even that seems to fade away from me.
Conner parks at this famous botanical garden in our city. It’s massive, with dominant trees, overly large bushes filled with flowers, and a lake weaving through the entire garden. People lie underneath the tall trees, resting on blankets and picnic mats.
He gets out of the car, and I follow. Conner sits on the bonnet while I lean against the wooden gate dividing the car park from the garden. He lights a cigarette and gestures for me to keep eating as he smokes. I take another slice and taste the capsicum and onion flavour dance on my tongue.
“Let’s go for a walk after this,” he says.
“Okay.”
We eat a few more slices and take a few gulps of the drink. Conner leans back into the car, puts his smokes and lighter inside, and locks the vehicle. We walk along the path that weaves through the entire garden, revealing blossoming summer trees sprouting yellow and red wattle.
I inhale the crisp scent of pine needles and the overpowering smell of flowers and mulch. “It’s beautiful,” I say as we walk across the bridge and overlook the lake. “Look, there are ducks!”
I stop walking and rest my hands on the railing. The ducks cluster near the family standing at the edge of the lake, with a bag of duck feed in their hands. The boy points at them and appears overly excited, while his parents watch from a distance.
A spark of envy rips through me.
I went to the park once, a long time ago.
Dad howled, his voice scaring the ducks I wanted to feed until it was only me overlooking a still lake.
Then, when it was time to leave, I threw all the bread into the water, and Dad grew angry that I wasted half a loaf.
Afterwards, the thought of feeding something petrified me.
But since that was the last time my parents took me to the park, it didn’t matter.
“What are you thinking about?” Conner asks.
I straighten up and smile. “Um, you said that you could name ten things you like about me in the car.”
“Hmm…” Conner smirks.
I release my grip on the railing and walk ahead, not daring to see his face. “Can you tell me those, please?”
“Sure.” He walks beside me, his presence overwhelming.
“I like that you’re modest about eating etiquette.
You place your hand over your mouth whenever you talk with your mouth full, or even when you laugh.
” He breathes a laugh. “There was that time I made you eat like a slob when we were eating popcorn.”
“I remember,” I say.
“I like it when that side comes out in you. This daring, playful side I’ve only seen a few times. When we watched a movie, we played in the indoor playground, and I heard about it from Aaron when you played Dungeons and Dragons.”
I twitch a smile.
“I like how we enjoy the same type of music. I like…uh—and this is long, something I have noticed before we began talking—but in art, whenever you drew, you did this thing with your nose, scrunching it up when you were concentrating. It’s cute.”
“I do that?” I touch my nose. “Is it obvious?”
“Painstaking,” he agrees with a chuckle. “I also like how you care for your family—not like you should care in the circumstances you’re under, but you care enough to save money for bills, which is admirable.”
I bite my lower lip and avert my gaze.
“There was one time in the car. I let it slide, but I wish I hadn’t after knowing that it would be hard for me to make you laugh like that again. And when you snorted, it sent me—I also love when you laugh.” His eyes crinkle as his smile softens. “I like that I can make you laugh.”
“That’s six,” I say.
“The seventh is how stubborn you can be when it comes to people doing things for you. I like that you aren’t stubborn when I do things for you.
However, at the start, when you handed me the money after I bought McDonald’s—and I still have that money in the car—the way you looked and pleaded made me realise you don’t enjoy owing people, and I respect and like that about you. ”
He reaches out, and I flinch until I realise he’s grabbing a flower overhead of us, plucking it from the vine. “I don’t like it when you do that,” he admits as he hands me the flower. “I understand why you flinch, but it hurts a little knowing that you think I’m capable of hurting you.”
“I know,” I murmur. “So, what’s eight?”
“When you shut me down or put me in my place, I guess. You tell me when I’m embarrassing you or being too much, and you don’t hide the things I do that make you uncomfortable. You tell it to my face. It’s refreshing.”
“Nine?”
“You are the first woman who hasn’t objectified me,” he states with a firm nod. “Or boy…There’s this one guy in sports who enjoys slapping my arse whenever I enter the locker room.”
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“A little,” he answers with a shrug. “I’m extending number nine because I like how you don’t think it’s cute that I’ve been objectified.”
“You didn’t either…with Andy. So, why would I?”
“Yeah…” Conner’s eyes narrow. “Andy…”
Clearing my throat, I say, “What’s the lucky last reason that you like me?”
“You’re the first person outside my family that I feel comfortable being myself around.
At school, I have two groups of friends.
You met Aaron, Finch, and Troy. They see an inkling of why I am when we play Dungeons and Dragons.
The others I hang with are just for show.
I’m only there because they consider me an ace.
” He rolls his eyes at the sentiment before saying, “But that’s not you. ”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I never expressed my taste in music to them because it’s different from what they listen to, which would be okay if they didn’t talk shit about the music I like.
I used to sing at school until everyone fawned over it.
Every lunch, they would ask if I could sing for them.
It became a chore. Everything became a chore, and I wasn’t having fun anymore.
” His hands tighten, and his jaw clenches.
“I was there for their entertainment. I was never there for me…”
Conner looks down at me and smiles. “With you, I’m revitalised. I can eat how I like without you chastising me and saying it’s gross. You understand my art without gushing over it, and you don’t objectify me. I can sing in the car with you and listen to the songs we like.”
I take hold of his hand as we walk.
“You make me feel like me,” he says, his hand squeezing mine with reassurance. “It’s why I fell for you so quickly, Noya.”
“I’m happy you can,” I say, and I squeeze back.
“Now,” he says, arching his brow. “I’m curious about the ten things you like about me, Noya.”
“Oh…do I have to say them now?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” he responds.
“Then I’ll wait.”
He nods slowly. “Is it cool if I take you to the bus stop tomorrow morning?”
“I need to be there early. You should rest,” I say.
“I insist, and if you say no, I will wait outside your home all night until morning.”
“Conner,” I hiss. Yet, I can see it. That look in Conner’s eyes fills with determination. So, with a sigh, I look away and say, “Seven. No earlier, okay.”
“Done.” He nudges his head towards the park ahead. “There’s no one there. Did you want to have a little fun before we head back?”
“Okay.”
He releases his hold and runs toward the park. “I’ll race you!”
“Conner!”
It is quiet inside my home when I enter. Mum is in the bathroom, and I hear the shower going before I head into my bedroom. I want to take a shower before bed, but I’ll have to wait.
Lying down on my bed, I raise my phone above my head and scroll through Conner’s text messages. My mind wanders momentarily as I think about how I should write this…and when.
Me: Ten things I like about you: