Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Endings
There’s something so surreal about being a Victorian-era monster and having to deal with the mundanity of rental agreements.
As I stare down at the paper, wondering if I should mark that I’m moving out or want a twelve-month extension, the only thing I want to do is throw the kitchen sink out the sliding glass door in a stereotypical act from a monster flick.
The only thing stopping me is that I doubt this landlord would make a good reference when I move.
My phone buzzes again, the third time today. To my continued surprise, it’s V.
“Alright, what’s the big idea? Don’t you know I’m busy?”
“No, you’re not,” V hisses in a snide tone, and suddenly I’m looking out the sliding glass window for signs of a bat spying on me. “And no, I don’t have to spy on you to know that.”
“Then why all the calls? You barely even text in our group chat.”
“Because you’re mopey.”
“I’m not mopey.” I look at the scattered books around my apartment, all romance novels, most half-unfinished, my heart just not in the act anymore. “I’m not mopey.”
“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you. Admit it!”
“No, I don’t think about him.” I dream about him, fantasize. Manny fills the empty spaces in my mind when it wanders, but I’m not telling V that.
“Just admit you miss him!”
“Is that Franky?” I hear Gabby’s voice over the phone.
“Hi Gabby, tell your girlfriend to leave me alone,” I yell into the mic.
“Hi Franky!” Gabby’s voice still sounds so bubbly, even muffled through a phone speaker from halfway across a room.
“Well, did you at least think about moving back?” V asks, less as a sincere question and more as a bored platitude.
I look at the paperwork, and suddenly the extension seems so much more enticing. “I’m still figuring it out.”
“But you’re still in your apartment, right?”
“Yeah,” I huff.
“No, I mean like, right now?”
I look for that bat again. “Yeah? Why do you ask?”
Suddenly, there’s a knock at my door, and it all makes sense. This was some ploy to ambush me again. I huff a monstrous snarl into the receiver. “If you two came down here for another surprise visit, I swear to God!”
I throw open the door, and there’s no bubbly ghoul or vampire with an attitude.
Instead, I think I’ve finally had a stroke.
Yep, my revived brain has finally had it, and my fantasies are bleeding into reality as I stare up at the image of Manny, looking just as good as he did on top of me in my dreams last night.
“H-Hi.” That's all I can manage in the confusion.
“It’s about time he got there,” V snickers through the phone before the line goes dead, leaving me alone, in the threshold of my apartment, with a figment of my understimulated imagination.
“Hi,” the figment says back in a sheepish tone, his broad frame wearing a large button-down over loose jeans, and reading glasses sitting high on his perfectly chiseled head. “Hope I didn’t scare you. Your friend V said you’d be here.”
I give a slow blink, trying to connect the two ideas in my head. “What? How?”
All Manny can manage is a shy smile as he stares down at me through those long lashes. “She found me at the Shot Glass. Asked if I still wanted to see you. I couldn’t say yes fast enough.”
“No, how are you here? Why are you here?”
“I told you, I meant every word I said, even the part about chasing you to the ends of the earth.” He looks around at the empty hallway. “Guess I got lucky, it was only a two-hour drive.”
My eyes remain transfixed on the wonderful contradiction standing in the empty hallway.
I had been tired of chasing, tired of being overlooked, and here he was, the man who finally understood me, who saw me all the way through.
And he was here, not just because he wanted to be, but because my friends wanted him to, because they could see how miserable I was from the moment we left.
I can see something swirling in him, something like courage, building to a single brave utterance. “Can I come in? If that’s okay.”
His chest heaves with dread, his last few words lingering between us. I could see in his eyes how badly he wants to stay, even as the rest of him is worried that this is a mistake, that he'd been too forward too soon, and that I’d want him to go.
The moment finally catches up to me—I realize this isn’t a fantasy. He’s real, vulnerable, and waiting. “Yeah. Yes! Of course!”
Finally, I understand what I was missing. What I was longing for. And even though I am done chasing, I brave the few steps across the threshold to grasp his hand. “You're not going anywhere.”
I pull him with me, back inside my apartment, finally ready to start living.