8. Will
Chapter 8
Will
How can one person make so much noise? It’s Thanksgiving morning and it sounds like Callie’s remodeling her kitchen. Are our walls really that fucking thin or I am just more apt to her chaos? Like a damn dog whistle, only I am sensitive to the sounds coming from the redhead in the apartment next to me.
Another crash comes through the walls, and I can’t decide if I want to chuckle or bang on the wall to tell her to keep it down.
Maybe I should go over and check on her? Another loud clunk noise comes through. I mean, really, how can you make this much noise?
That thought is quickly interrupted because I hear a loud “fuck” come through the walls. Heading to my door I step out into the hallway just as the smell of smoke hits me. I’m at her door in a single step.
“Callie,” I semi-yell while banging on her door.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” is all I hear back. Twisting her knob, I find she’s left her door unlocked.
“Callie! What the hell?” Smoke fills her apartment as she frantically looks at her stove.
Racing over, there are flames growing rapidly, fueled by a box of stuffing mix. Grabbing the top of the box, I toss it in the sink, flipping the faucet on before returning to the stove. I turn the burner off and take a rag to smother the small flames remaining.
When it seems like it’s under control, I turn off the water and turn to Callie. Her hands are stuck to her cheeks with a look of horror on her face. My first instinct is to yell, “What the hell happened!” but she speaks first.
“Oh my goodness…I almost burned down my apartment.” Her voice trembles and her hands shake as she brings them away from her face.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Letting my hands take the same spot on her cheeks, she looks up with watery eyes. “I’m going to open the windows to let some of this smoke out, okay?”
She nods slowly. “Okay.”
I let go of her face and walk over to the windows. “Let me know when you’re ready for questions.”
“Questions?” she asks just barely above a whisper.
I push one window open then go to the next. “Yeah, I got three whenever you’re ready.”
“Can you ask them nicely? Because I’m not sure if I’ll cry or cuss you out if they’re mean.” Her voice is still shaky and low.
Honestly, the face of pure terror she had a moment ago was enough to kill any anger in me, so yeah I can ask them nicely. After opening the last window, I walk back over to her. “First question.”
“I didn’t say I was ready yet,” she mumbles.
“Callie, are you okay?”
Almost stunned, she blinks once, then twice. “Am I okay?”
“Yeah, there was a fire in your kitchen, and you could have seriously hurt yourself. So, my first question is ‘are you okay?’”
Folding her lips in a thin line she pulls at the sleeves of her Yale crew neck before crossing her arms. With a deep breath in and out, she nods. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Good. Okay, question number two. Why didn’t your fire alarm go off?”
“Well, last night the one in here was beeping and I couldn’t sleep.” Shrugging, she uncrosses her arms to move her hands while she talks. “I tried calling the super, but no one answered. So, I might have stacked my small step stool on a chair and took the batteries out myself.”
I follow her hand gesture over by the wall behind her where the chair with a pink step stool is still stacked on top.
Don’t give her a lecture. Do not give her a lecture.
“Okay.” I sigh. “I have some fresh batteries, I can fix that. Final question, what are you doing that it sounds like you’re remodeling in here?”
Huffing she throws her hands in the air. “I just wanted to cook some food for Thanksgiving, but I’ve already broken a plate while unloading the dishwasher and concussed myself from opening a cabinet and all of my Tupperware falling on my head. Then I accidentally knocked my sugar off the counter and thought I would try to start boiling some water while I cleaned it up, but I turned on the wrong burner and nearly burned this place down! And now my box of stuffing is ruined and I—why are you smiling?”
I’m smiling? Shit, I was just imagining how her morning played out then thought what if I had been here to help her and, in that daydream, she’s wearing my sweatshirt instead of this worn out Yale one.
“I’m sorry, I was just amazed that one small person could create so much damage.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Burying her face in her hands she cries, “I just wanted to make some food for mine and Adam’s sad little Thanksgiving, and I…I?—”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I know I shouldn’t, but I pull her hands away, wanting to wipe her tears myself. It’s an out of body experience, but right now I want to be the reason she stops crying, not starts.
“I guess crying was my answer.” She half laughs then looks at me with her glossy green eyes. I know at this moment I’ll do anything she’d ask me to.
“I don’t have to leave for my mom’s for a couple hours. Let me help.”
Her eyebrows furrow with a sputtered laugh. “You want to help?”
“I’m not too bad in the kitchen. Plus, someone’s got to keep the blaze under control.”
Rolling her eyes. “You put the fire out already.”
“I was talking about you.”
And just like that, the fire ignites in her eyes. Her hands circle my wrists and pull my hands down. “I might have cried first, but I’ll still cuss you out.”
I take a step back and smirk. “Oh, I’m well aware, Blaze.”
After running back over to my place to grab some batteries, I come back and immediately make my way over to her chair-stool combo and sigh. She could have seriously hurt herself. As I move the stool over, I can’t help but notice the tension shift. Neither of us has said anything yet and the silence is starting to feel thick.
An extra layer of tension gets added when we catch each other staring. I might have been busted first…I couldn’t help it. She was pulling her long red hair up in a ponytail. She’s a fucking blaze, alright. It’s like I’ve been caught up in her flames and I can’t find any oxygen.
I catch her looking when I started to replace the batteries in her fire alarm. I could have gone down to the super’s office and made someone else fix it, but call it caveman of me, I wanted to be the one to fix it for her. Maybe this is just me being able to fill the void of taking care of someone again. Back in Seattle the most I got to do during the season was send money back to my mom and sisters, but I like doing stuff like this. I like being the one to take care of things…and the people I care about.
“You know, I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my job if you fall and can’t pitch this season.” Callie leans on her elbows on the small island in her kitchen. She’s holding out a box of Velveeta Shells and Cheese, pretending to read the instructions, but I’ve noticed her eyes darting to me a few times.
Sliding her alarm back in place, I laugh. “Please don’t even get me started on the setup you had here.” I step off her chair and slide it back in place at her small dining table. My eye catches on her pink stool again. “Scared of riding on my bike but makes makeshift ladders and climbs them in the middle of the night.”
Callie stands up straight. “Hey, it worked out just fine, didn’t it?”
“I feel like ‘fine’ is up for debate.”
She scoffs. “Hey, a fall from that would have hurt my pride more than anything. A fall from your motorcycle would likely kill me.”
“You were perfectly safe with me, but I’m not saying anything else at the fear of being cussed out.”
Rounding the corner of her island, Callie hums with a tight-lipped smile pulling at her lips. “Listen, I know I seemed like a hot mess this morning.”
When I raise my eyebrows and nod in agreement, she hits my shoulder. “Will!”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Please continue.”
Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “I was just saying I was a little overwhelmed, and I appreciate your help, but…” She trails off as her eyes lock with mine. This is the second time I’ve seen Callie nervous, and I can’t decide if it makes me feel good knowing I get to see this other side or if it makes me feel like shit that I’m the one making her uncomfortable.
“I can leave if you want me to, Callie.” I let any playfulness I’ve had in my tone from earlier leave my voice. I don’t understand much about this attraction to Callie, but I would rather die than make her uncomfortable.
Breaking our staring contest, she crosses her arms. “I just thought I could do it myself, that's all.”
Ow, that hurts a little bit. It shouldn’t, but it does. “Okay, the fire alarm is working now, so I’ll head out.”
Callie’s mouth opens, then shuts. Not wanting to make things worse, I walk out without another word.