Chapter 11
CARMEN
“Well, painting was fun,” I say to Jamie as we walk back home. “But I don’t know if I see myself taking it up regularly.” I can’t resist sliding a sly grin at him. “How about you? Decided that you love modeling even more than hockey?”
His cheeks flush so hot that his face glows like a streetlamp. “No.”
Laughter rumbles from my chest. “You saved the day, though.”
For some reason, I’m feeling chattier than normal after that lesson. Breaking my evening routine might have activated some long-dormant endorphins in my brain.
Maybe when I get home, or tomorrow, I’ll find that that alone has helped with my writer’s block, and I’ll be able to put this silly idea of using a hookup with Jamie to do so out of my mind for good.
“Yeah, I guess I did do my good deed of the day. I can rest easy tonight.”
“At least one of us will,” I grumble, more to myself than as a response to Jamie.
“Huh? What do you mean?” Concern twines in Jamie’s voice.
“Nothing, nothing,” I say, flaring my hand to wave away my comment.
A look of disquiet passes across Jamie’s features, but he doesn’t press it. My comment was just vague enough for him to shrug off.
I’ve been stuck in a cycle of staying up way too late ever since that night I talked with Jamie at the gas station. It hasn’t been a big problem because I’ve only had afternoon or evening shifts for the last couple days. But tomorrow I have an early shift. Ugh, it’s going to suck.
Jamie looks up. “Whoa. Full moon.”
The round, bright orb shines overhead.
“Pretty,” I say.
“Do you believe in the whole full moon thing?” Jamie asks.
I chuckle. “Full moon thing?”
“You know. How it’s supposed to affect people’s moods. People acting crazy and wild stuff happening when the moon is full.”
“Definitely not,” I answer.
He hums thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that people who are ambulance drivers, or 911 dispatchers, all swear it's true. Or doctors. Maybe you’ll find out soon enough.”
“People like to imagine patterns exist that aren’t really there.”
Jamie sighs. “Yeah, I guess I don’t believe it, either. I kinda wish I did, though.”
An intrigued look pulls at my face. “Why?”
Jamie tilts his head contemplatively. “I’ve always thought it would be cool if there were a little more mystery in the world. More things that you just can’t explain. Like, I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of reincarnation. Past lives, you know?”
“Yeah?”
Jamie nods. “The idea that you were someone else before. That maybe you can unlock old memories. Or that maybe what you did before impacts your current life. Or that there might be people out there who were important to you in a past life. I’ve always been interested in that idea.
” He sighs. “But I can’t really believe it. ”
“You want to believe, huh?” I tease.
He chuckles. “Yeah, I do. Same thing with aliens. Would be so cool if they were real. Don’t think they are.”
“X-Files fan?” I ask.
“Never watched it. I guess I should. It’s probably right up my alley.”
An image coalesces in my imagination. Jamie and I together, spending one of my sleepless nights binge-watching X-Files. It feels comfy and cozy. Dangerously so.
That’s another reason I can’t be a relationship person right now. People have real schedules. They sleep at night, and they’re energized and active during the day. I stay up all night, and I’m grumpy and miserable during the day. Just on the level of basic logistics, I’m not fit for a relationship.
Another reason Jamie and I would never work. As if I needed any more.
Jamie points at the sky. “I wonder what that one is. The bright one above that tree.”
I follow the direction of Jamie’s finger to a white dot in the sky.
“A star? A planet? Sometimes Jupiter’s supposed to be really bright … I think?”
I shrug. “No idea. Never been into astronomy. Maybe that should be my next hobby attempt. It would work with my sleep schedule to be gazing up at constellations and stuff.”
“Night owl?” Jamie asks.
“Big time,” I answer. “At least if I do end up going into medicine, I’ll have plenty of practice dealing with running on no sleep.”
Jamie frowns. “Here, take my number, and any time you’re bored late at night with nothing else to do, text me.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You think we’re on booty-call terms now?” I ask, taken aback. Sheesh, this guy moves fast. All bashful and demure until the first time he wrangles me into a date, and suddenly he’s Mr. Hookup.
But a look of dismay bursts onto Jamie’s face. He takes a step back, holding up his hands and shaking his head vigorously.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he blabbers, almost in a panic to correct the record.
“I just meant … it can probably get lonely late at night when everyone else is asleep. Or boring. It probably sucks to be stuck up during those late hours, with nothing to do. If you get bored or just want someone to talk to … we can text. If you want.”
That sentiment is a lot more like the Jamie I know.
“You’re an athlete. You need your rest. I’m not going to bother you and wake you up just because I can’t sleep.”
Jamie blows a raspberry, dismissing the concern. “Don’t worry about me. Here, take my number, just in case. You don’t even have to give me yours. I’ll turn my notification sound way up, so I won’t miss your message if you want to use it.”
I know this isn’t a good idea, and that I should turn him down. But I find myself reaching for my phone.
His smile is so big that his white teeth glisten in the silvery moonlight. He rattles off his number, and, against my better judgment, I add it to my phone.
Not that I’ll ever use it.