Chapter 30 - Day 12 You Like Them
Sunday morning, I got a text at ten-twenty-three.
From-
That was it.
No good morning.
No Are you awake?
No Do you still need groceries?
Just a time.
Apparently His Majesty had issued today's transportation schedule.
I stared at the message.
Then typed back.
The reply came less than a minute later.
I smiled.
Three dots appeared.
No response.
Naturally.
At eleven-twenty-eight, I was standing in front of my mirror.
Pink top.
Pink-and-yellow floral skirt.
White sneakers.
Hair down.
Casual.
Pretty.
Appropriate for buying groceries with a man who was absolutely not taking me on a date.
Again.
My phone buzzed.
Eleven-thirty.
Exactly.
Look at him.
Growth.
I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs.
The Corvette was waiting outside.
Black.
Shiny.
Completely unnecessary for grocery shopping.
Adrian was leaning against it.
And-
I stopped.
Black T-shirt.
Blue jeans.
Watch.
Dark brown hair slightly messier than it ever was at work.
And printed across the front of his shirt-
L.
I stared at the familiar crouched figure.
Then at Adrian.
No.
Absolutely not.
Adrian looked at me.
"What?"
"You like Death Note?"
He glanced down at his shirt.
"Yes."
I stared at him.
"How have I worked for you for a year and not known this?"
"You barely spoke to me for most of that year."
"That was because you were terrifying."
"I wasn't terrifying."
I laughed.
"You once made Ben redo a presentation because two headings were misaligned."
"They were misaligned."
"By approximately one molecule."
"They were visibly misaligned."
"To you."
"To anyone with eyes."
I shook my head.
Then pointed at his shirt.
"Let me guess. Your favorite is L."
"Obviously."
I looked at the giant L on his shirt.
Then back at him.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
"Why am I not surprised?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"What's wrong with L?"
"Nothing. I like Light."
He stared at me.
"Light."
"Yes."
"Light Yagami."
"That's generally who people mean when they're discussing Death Note, Adrian."
"He's a narcissistic murderer."
"He's brilliant."
"He's a narcissistic murderer."
"You already said that."
"Because apparently it needs repeating."
I folded my arms.
"L is weird."
"L is intelligent."
"Light is intelligent."
"Light has a God complex."
"Light has ambition."
Adrian stared at me.
"You just called mass murder ambition."
I pointed at him.
"Don't twist my words."
"There was very little twisting required."
"I didn't say I support his extracurricular activities. I said he's my favorite character."
"Concerning."
"You know what? Your favorite spends half his life crouched in chairs eating sugar."
"And he's still the most rational person in the story."
I looked at him.
"We're going to fight about this, aren't we?"
"Probably."
I smiled.
"Good."
The corner of his mouth moved.
"Good."
I looked at his shirt again.
Then at him.
"So you actually watch anime."
"Yes."
"What else?"
"We're going grocery shopping."
"That wasn't my question."
He opened the passenger door.
"I know."
"Adrian."
"Angelica."
I stared at him.
He waited.
I got into the Corvette.
"This conversation isn't over."
"I assumed not."
He closed the door.
Asshole.
Twenty minutes later, Adrian was pushing my grocery cart.
I had not asked him to push my grocery cart.
He had simply taken it.
Apparently control of wheeled objects automatically transferred to Adrian Vale whenever he entered the vicinity.
I picked up eggs.
Into the cart.
Milk.
Bread.
Rice.
Vegetables.
Chicken.
Then I reached for a box of strawberry cereal.
Adrian looked at it.
I put it into the cart.
He looked at me.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That was judgment."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to. Your face is being extremely rude."
He looked at the cereal again.
"Do you actually eat that?"
"Yes."
"For breakfast?"
"Sometimes."
He picked up the box.
I watched him turn it around.
His eyes went to the nutrition label.
Oh God.
"Put it down."
He kept reading.
"Adrian."
"There are thirty-four grams of added sugar."
"Give me my cereal."
"Thirty-four."
"Yes. I heard you the first time."
He looked genuinely disturbed.
"You could eat cake."
"Sometimes I do."
His eyes lifted to mine.
I smiled.
He slowly put the cereal back into the cart.
"Your nutritional decisions are concerning."
"My nutritional decisions are none of your business."
"You put marshmallows in my cart yesterday."
"Elena put marshmallows in your cart."
"You supported her."
"She was fighting oppression."
"She was five."
"Exactly. She needed representation."
He stared at me.
I stared back.
Then I grabbed another box of cereal.
Into the cart.
His eyes followed it.
"That one too?"
"Now I'm buying two because you annoyed me."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It makes perfect sense."
"You're going to eat twice as much sugar to punish me?"
"No. I'm going to own twice as much sugar to punish you."
"That doesn't punish me."
"You look pretty upset."
His jaw tightened.
I smiled.
Victory.
He pushed the cart away.
I followed him.
We moved through produce.
Tomatoes.
Onions.
Bell peppers.
Bananas.
Strawberries.
I turned around after putting the tomatoes in the cart.
Then stopped.
Adrian was moving things.
I watched him take the bread from underneath the milk and place it on the other side.
Then he moved the eggs.
Then the strawberries.
I stared.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
"You're reorganizing my groceries."
"The bread was under the milk."
"It was surviving."
"It was being crushed."
"Adrian."
He moved the eggs farther away from a bag of potatoes.
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"You're designing the cart."
"I'm not designing the cart."
"You are. You've created zones."
"I haven't created zones."
I pointed.
"Fragile. Produce. Heavy."
He looked at the cart.
Then at me.
"That's common sense."
"There's circulation space."
"It's a grocery cart."
"Then stop giving it a floor plan."
He stared at me.
I reached over and deliberately put a bag of onions on top of the bread.
His eyes dropped to it.
I waited.
His jaw tightened.
I smiled.
"Don't."
"I'm not doing anything."
"Your hand is moving."
It was.
I slowly moved my hand toward the eggs.
"Angelica."
"What?"
"Don't."
I picked up a potato.
His eyes narrowed.
"Put it down."
"Where?"
"Angelica."
"Which zone, Adrian?"
He took the potato out of my hand.
"You're annoying."
"And your cart has zoning regulations."
He put the potato back with the other potatoes.
Exactly where it belonged.
Of course he did.
I stared at the cart.
Then at him.
And suddenly-
Oh.
His office.
Nothing was ever out of place.
Not his papers.
Not the things on his desk.
Not even the stupid pen he was constantly picking up and putting back in exactly the same spot.
And yesterday-
His house.
Luke had left something on the sofa.
Adrian had put it back.
Elena had moved one of the cushions.
Adrian had fixed it.
Not immediately.
Never while they were playing.
He let them destroy his enormous white kingdom without saying a word.
But the second they moved on-
everything quietly went back where it belonged.
I looked at him.
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"This isn't an architect thing."
His expression changed slightly.
"What isn't?"
I pointed at the cart.
"You."
"Me."
"You need things to be in the right place."
"Things have places."
I stared at him.
That answer told me absolutely everything.
"Holy shit."
"What?"
I slowly reached toward the bread.
His eyes followed my hand.
I moved it three inches.
His eyes moved with it.
I smiled.
"Angelica."
Oh.
This was going to be fun.
"I figured you out."
"You didn't."
"I absolutely did."
He moved the bread back.
Three inches.
Exactly where it had been.
I watched his hand.
Then looked at him.
"Your office."
He said nothing.
"Nothing is ever out of place."
"It's an office."
"Your papers are always perfectly stacked. Your desk is always clear. Your pens are always in the same place."
"You spend a concerning amount of time looking at my desk."
"Don't change the subject."
"I'm not."
"You are."
He started pushing the cart again.
I walked beside him.
"And your house."
That got his attention.
He looked at me.
"Yesterday, Luke and Elena were moving things everywhere."
"They're children."
"I know. And you didn't care."
"Why would I?"
"You didn't care that they were doing it."
He went quiet.
I pointed at him.
"Exactly."
"Exactly what?"
"Every time they moved on to something else, you put everything back."
"I cleaned up."
"No. Cleaning up is doing it once at the end of the day. You were following behind them like a very expensive reset button."
His mouth tightened.
I was right.
Oh, I was so right.
"Elena moved that cushion on the sofa."
"It was on the floor."
"For approximately eight seconds."
"Someone could have stepped on it."
"Adrian."
"What?"
"Luke left something on the table. You put it back."
"He was finished with it."
"Elena moved something. You put it back."
"She was finished with it."
"The cushion."
"Was on the floor."
I stared at him.
He stared back.
"Things have places," he said.
There it was again.
I grinned.
"You really believe that."
"Because it's true."
"No, no. I understand now."
"I doubt that."
"Your entire life has assigned seating."
He looked away.
I laughed.
"Oh my God. How did I not notice this before?"
"Because there's nothing to notice."
I reached into the cart.
He immediately looked at my hand.
I picked up the strawberries.
"Angelica."
I moved them to the other side.
"They were fine where they were."
"They're fine here too."
"The eggs are there."
"The strawberries aren't going to attack the eggs."
"That's not the point."
I picked up the bread.
His eyes narrowed.
"Don't."
"I'm just finding it a new home."
"It already has one."
I nearly lost it.
"It's bread, Adrian."