Chapter 16 Autumn
Autumn
Blue is so much better than white.
I set the roller back in the tray and fall aggressively onto the couch that is awkwardly sitting crooked in the middle of the living room. One of the reasons I was hoping to get this apartment specifically was because I could paint.
Thankfully, my dad and Kory came over to help with the labor. Just seconds after me, she drops just as dramatically onto the couch as I did and rests her head on the back of it with a loud sigh.
“Oh, come on. You guys are young. That should be me laid out like that right now.” My dad jokes.
“Thanks for your help, Dad,” I say as I wipe strands of hair out of my face.
He walks over to the kitchen and refills our water glasses from the fridge. After he hands them to us, we all rehydrate silently and look at our work.
I went with a slate blue. Not dark, but not light either.
I thought about grey, but then realized that wasn’t the best idea with grey couches.
This looks great, though. The shade of blue complements the grey furniture, and even though I still have pictures to put up and curtains to hang, it already looks a million times better.
My phone vibrates.
How's it going?
Jimmy asks.
Good. We just finished.
I reply.
Days like today are what make being home feel complete. Kory’s here helping, and Jimmy’s here too. Even if he’s not physically.
I bet you look all sweaty. I wish I was there.
And that’s exactly why he’s not here.
Neither my dad nor Kory would find it weird that we were friends again, but we’re not. I don’t know exactly what we are, but the last time we saw each other, which was just a week or so ago, I learned I can’t control myself around him anymore.
We might be able to interact in a way that would fool my dad, but not Kory.
She would see right through both of us. She’s known us way too long not to.
Even if she didn’t know him that well, she knows me better than anyone.
With the way our conversations tend to go now, I don’t believe he can control himself either.
But I love it. I love the feeling I get in my chest when he says stuff like that. I love the feeling in my cheeks I get after smiling at my phone all day.
I thought I could be friends with him, but the more he talks about wanting me, the more I want him.
I'm gonna Facetime you in a second. i want to see it.
No, Kory's here.
So what? I'm your friend. Just like she is.
I don’t know why, but his comment bothers me.
He knows he’s not just my friend and definitely not just like her.
But then again, maybe we are just friends.
Maybe those rumors Kory heard about are true, and this is just how he talks to all of his ‘friends.' Maybe, just like when we were younger, I’ve thought too much about this, and now I’ve hurt my own feelings.
As if on cue, Kory stands up. “I hate to dip, but I have to work tonight, so a shower is a must.” She slides her shoes on and sets her glass in the sink. “Love ya. Call me tomorrow.”
“Love ya too,” my dad and I say in unison.
All three of us laugh as she shuts the door. My dad starts picking up our mess and leaves the room when my phone vibrates, and keeps vibrating. Jimmy’s facetiming me anyway. Screw it.
I answer, but it doesn’t connect right away, so all I see is my face and holy hell.
I’m not just sweaty. I’m a whole mess. My cheeks and nose are bright pink, and my bangs are practically stuck to my forehead from the moisture.
My hair, which was once a bun, is flopped over to one side, hanging on for dear life.
I have a streak of paint at the top of my forehead. I wish I hadn’t answered.
But then it connects, and his face replaces mine on the screen. I groan, knowing what he now has a view of from his side. And I know this because he is smiling. It’s not a normal smile; it’s the smile of someone who’s trying not to laugh.
I would laugh too if I were him, though, purely at the glaring difference between us right now.
He is sitting in his car, obviously outside of work.
His pale green button-up shirt fits him just as perfectly as the one did at the restaurant.
His hair is neatly styled, and the stubble on his cheeks and chin has come in more.
You might even call it the start of a beard now, and I can tell he’s been grooming it.
He finally lets a laugh escape, and I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh. Are you ready to see it now?” I ask.
“I already did.” He says, still smiling.
“What do you mean, already did?”
“Meaning I already saw what I was calling to see.”
I didn’t think my cheeks could get anymore pink, but they do.
“Who’s that?” my dad asks as he comes back into the living room.
My eyes widen, and Jimmy looks at me curiously. I mouth ‘MY DAD’ before responding. “Remember Jimmy?” I ask.
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ll be damned. Why wasn’t he here doing this instead of me?” he asks as he comes around behind me to see the screen.
“Sorry, Mr. Harper. Some of us have to work.” Jimmy says with a wave.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. I do work, just not as often as you.” I say back.
My dad laughs at both of us. “Do you need anything else? I’m about to head home myself.”
“No, Dad, I’m good. Thanks again.”
He leans down and kisses my head. “My pleasure. But next time, he’s doing it. I’m getting too old.” He points to Jimmy on the screen.
Jimmy nods and laughs some more.
“Love you.” My dad says to me. “Good to see you, kid,” he says to Jimmy.
We stare at each other with matching smirks until my dad is gone. “It’s nice to hear someone else get called kid for once,” I say and get up to refill my glass again.
“You didn’t warn me he was there.”
“My dad? He doesn’t care who I’m on the phone with. Plus, I knew he’d get a kick out of seeing you.”
He looks like he doesn’t know what to say. Or maybe he wants to say something, but can’t.
“So, anyway, about the paint?” I say and click the button to turn the camera view around. I walk around the living room to show him how it looks, then show him how the color looks slightly different depending on whether I have the overhead light on, or just the lamps, which I think is cool.
After I’ve shown him the living room, I move down the hallway, then into my bedroom, where the walls are still white. It feels obnoxiously bright now.
“What are you going to do in there?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say as I lie in my bed and lean on my elbow. “Not yet, at least. I can’t decide what I want to do. I might just leave it. All I do is sleep in here anyway.”
One of his eyebrows arches. “That’s all you do in there?” He smirks.
My cheeks are another new shade of pink. “Well, mostly anyways.”
He’s still smirking, and I have to look away. I don’t know why I feel like a teenager who isn’t used to flirting again, but I don’t know how to react to his comments. It’s uncomfortable in the best way, and I mostly just lose my ability to speak.
“How can I see you again?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” I say quietly, wishing I could just say ‘come over after work,’ but I know it’s not that simple.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Damn.” He says, his disappointment palpable.
“You might as well just go there and pretend you’re a patient.”
He laughs. “Don’t you work in the maternity ward?”
His laugh makes me laugh. “You could be a lost patient?”
“What about your lunch break?”
“My lunch break?” Now my eyebrow arches.
“Yeah, didn’t you say you eat in your car?”
“I do,” I say, realizing he might be on to something.
“Want some company tomorrow?”
“I’d love that,” I respond as the smile slides across my face.
“I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Okay. Sounds good.” I say then we hang up.
I drop the phone to my side and lie flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, already waiting for tomorrow.