Jonah and sweet are definitely two things that don’t go together and after witnessing the way him and April are, I know.
“Are we still on after I get off work?”
“Yeah. Mom’s got a business dinner and then she’s heading out for drinks with Saint Nick, giving me the house to myself.”
“So I get dinner and a movie with my girl tonight?”
“It appears that way, and maybe if you play your cards right, I might even throw in a little dessert too.” She winks. “But I really do have to go. The troll waits for no love sick girl.”
“Love sick, huh?”
“Shush, you didn’t hear nothing.” As I laugh, she catches me off guard by placing her lips to my cheek quickly before turning to head back the way she came. Pulling her back before her hands have the chance to fully pull out of mine, my lips meet hers in a much more appropriate goodbye, complete with the fireworks explosion that’s as familiar as breathing going off in my chest.
“Mmmm,” I repeat her earlier moan. “Much better.”
“Nice one, smartass. Now go to practice. I’ll see you after work.”
Waving to me a final time before turning her attention to Jonah, who’s now leaning against the lockers looking completely disgusted, blowing him a kiss, she takes off and giving myself a second or two to savor the taste of her on my tongue, I turn my attention back to my friend.
“You two make me sick.” He announces, lifting off the locker and making his way over to me.
“A good sick, right?”
“There’s no such thing as a good sick when it comes to you, Cool Whip.”
“Okay, what’s it gonna take for you to stop calling me that?”
It’s been going on a month now and while it was kind of funny in the beginning, now it’s starting to grate on my nerves, which judging by the smirk on his face, is exactly what he’s going for.
“When you stop acting like it?”
“I’ve never acted whipped. Besides, I’m not the one that has to drop everything when his cheerleader girlfriend texts. You also don’t see me carrying Emery’s books around all day.”
“Can it, Cayne.”
“Looks like you’re the real Cool Whip here, bro.” I laugh, slapping him on the back before heading off in the direction of the gym.
Catching up a few seconds later and using what’s gotta be most of his upper body strength to do it, he stops me cold in the middle of the hall.
“Jokes aside, man. I’m happy for you.”
“This couldn’t wait until we get to the gym?”
“Nope. When we hit the locker room, my heads gonna be in the zone. Might as well get this shit out now.”
“Jonah, I hate to break it to you, but I’m head over heels for Emery. We can’t be together.” I joke, the serious look on his face—one I’ve only seen him wear when he’s in the zone on the field—calling for it.
“Very funny, jerk. I’m serious though. I’m happy for you. A bit jealous too.”
“King of the soccer, football, and hockey teams and you want me to believe you’re jealous of me?”
“Yeah. Me and April, we’re together and we have a good time, but it’s not like what you’ve got with Emery. You two are good for each other. It’s like you’re dating your best friend or something.”
Who is this guy and what the hell did he do with my pigheaded friend?
“Is it your time of the month? Since when you give a shit about anything but sports and getting laid?”
“Since a certain jerk moved here from Port Hope and showed me there’s more to life than sex and sports.”
“Okay,” I start, completely blown away and unable to come up with a way to deal with the way Jonah is right now. “Well, now that you’ve shared your feelings like the adorable little girl you are, can we get to practice?”
“Yeah, of course. I just thought you should know.”
This time, he’s the first one to move and I’m left just staring as he heads off around the corner, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’s left me behind.
For all of the jokes he makes at my expense—both on and off the field—and the way he seems to be completely grossed out by Emery and me when we’re together, hearing him say everything he just did, especially the part about me changing the way he looks at things, is mind blowing.
I knew from the day Jonah reached out that he wasn’t like the others, but I just assumed he was the one changing my perspective. Hearing that it goes both ways, I have no clue what to do with it.
About the only thing I do know right now is that if I don’t make an effort to catch up, Coach will make sure whatever difference I am making with the guy will be short lived. And with a dinner with Emery to look forward to, I’ve gotta make sure that doesn’t happen.
I’ll figure Jonah and his weirdness out later.
Emery
I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.
We’ve talked about a lot of things, Christian and I. A lot of it heavier than just what our favorite colors or foods might be. I mean, I know all of those things about him because I observe more than I talk, but this never came up.
Today is his birthday.
He knew about mine because he specifically asked me one night last week over dinner, but for some reason, when I’d asked the same in return just so I’d know, he switched topics and never told me.
It took hearing it called out over the morning announcements to find out and it been bugging the hell out of me ever since.
I’m okay with the fact that he didn’t tell me. I’m not mad. I’ve known loads of people, myself included that hate making a big deal of a birthday.
It just bugs me because it’s today.
So not only do I not have anything to give him, but I didn’t get to wake up this morning and wish him a happy birthday. It’s random and kind of silly, but doing that kind of thing is important to me.
It doesn’t cost a thing and can do more than spending money ever could. That message he sends before I’ve even forced my eyes to completely open in the morning, it stays with me all day. I want to be able to do the same for him.
Which I suppose is where tonight comes in. What it’s now going to be about.
After spending most of the day trying to come up with something I could do or make that wouldn’t take long to put together in order to show him I was thinking about him, and coming up with nothing, I’d given up.
At least I did until he asked if we were still on before I had to take off to deal with Jordan.
Tonight. Our dinner and movie date. It’s my one shot.
There’s a ton of stuff I’m not the greatest at, and making a present from scratch with only a couple of hours to spare is definitely one of them, but I can put together a wicked home cooked dinner. All of those nights that my mom insisted we eat together making food from scratch instead of eating out, finally going to pay off.
And so is her uncanny baking ability.
Pulling down all of the ingredients for the meal and making sure the noodles, sauce and meat are all there, along with the cheap bottle of nonalcoholic wine that I picked up at the grocery store now chilling safely in the fridge, I put my focus on the only other missing piece.
The dessert I mentioned earlier. What he believes is going to be me, but is really going to be a devil’s food cake.
I can already hear his joke about an angel making a devil’s cake, and he’s not due here for another two hours.
We really do spend entirely too much time together.
Grabbing the bowl and electric mixer from under the sink, I set to work putting it all together, only reaching over and grabbing out the cake pans once I’m sure everything is mixed exactly as it should be. Resisting the urge to dip my finger deep into the mix and taste it the way I’ve done in the past, I pour it into the two pans and set the oven to preheat, before sliding in the pan and going about starting dinner.
When I’ve got everything where it needs to be a few minutes later, the
meat cooking on low heat so that it will be fresh and perfectly cooked for when he does finally get here, I grab a bottle of water and waiting for the noodles to start boiling so I can stir them, relieve the boredom by checking Facebook.
Scrolling through my newsfeed, a life event catches my eye and something about the way its bolded with the date enlarged on my screen, melts me.
Christian Cayne
1 Month Making Beautiful Music Together <3 – with Emery Carmichael
December 1, 2014
If I thought that the heading was the beginning and end of it though, it wasn’t, and despite the fact that I’m not upset, after I’m finished reading, I feel the first of what feels like a bucket full of tears fall.
The day I was lucky enough to be with my best friend. My Everything. My Emery. <3
After a few minutes of just staring at the screen, letting the tears run their course, a burst of sheer panic flushes through me at the thought of exactly who might be able to see this.
Sure, we’ve told our parents the basic gist of there being someone that we like and are interested in, but as far as sitting them down and admitting that we’re now dating and most nights when they’re out doing their own thing, we’re not exactly alone the way we make it appear, it hasn’t happened yet.
If I’m tagged in this and my mom decides it might be a good idea to check on what her daughter is doing online the way she used to, then this thing we’ve had going, the relationship that’s been blissfully amazing and without parental interference, is going to crumble around us.
Can I really handle my mom knowing this much about Christian this soon? Shouldn’t we last a little longer than a month before everything comes spilling out?
Putting my phone down on the counter, hearing the familiar rumble of the water as the noodles are now beginning the boiling and cooking process, I stir them around repeatedly, all the while going back and forth on how good it feels seeing Christian showing the world how much I mean to him, and how pissed my mom is going to be when she finds out the extent of it.
Moving from the noodles to the meat, I move and flip the ground beef around in the pan, determined to push the up and down feelings at reading Christian’s life event out of my head and focusing on what right now, has to be more important.
His birthday dinner.
Hearing the familiar text tone as I lay the meat mincer on the counter, I grab the phone and check the message. Christian’s words on the screen doing more than just informing me of the way that he feels, but also ending the tug of war going in my head after what I read.
One more hour until I can kiss my girl again. I miss you. Do you want me to pick up something to eat on the way?
I can’t believe I was actually worried about what my mom might think. Acting as though us dating is some kind of high level government secret, even though we’ve done nothing to actually hide it. Sure, we haven’t actually had each other over and met our parents, but that’s only because we’re still new. That’s not going to last forever and acting like it is, it’s unfair to him and to us.
Let my mom read it. I don’t care. I’ll deal with it when and if she does.
Christian caring about me enough to post this, that’s what’s solid. It’s what is written in stone. Not some will she or won’t she that might not even happen with my mom.
No. I got dinner covered. Just get here in one piece.
Sorry, no can do babe. I have an accident planned before I get there.
Smiling at his obvious joke, I quickly glance over to the meat and secure in the knowledge it won’t burn in the few seconds it will take me to text back, start typing.
Reschedule it. I’ve got bigger plans for you tonight. You’re not gonna wanna miss it.
Going back to the dinner, I lean over after stirring the noodles and read the response that as expected, wastes no time coming through. One that just further proves that my momentary blip of panic was pointless. No matter what I have to face, what my mom thinks or doesn’t, the end result is always going to be the same.
I will always come back to Christian.
Consider it done. Can’t wait to hear your plans. See you soon. :* <3
Chapter Eighteen
December 7 – Christian’s Birthday
Christian
This is unbelievable.
When Emery said she had plans, I thought she’d picked out a few movies, grabbed a blanket from her linen closet and was going to be waiting curled up on the sofa with popcorn so we could enjoy it together.
Not this.
Wow.
The best birthday I ever had was when I turned eight and my mom invited half the neighborhood over to our house, where she’d bought out the entire party store in order to decorate the backyard. Streamers were everywhere, the world’s biggest banner held up between two huge blue and silver balloons announcing the age I was turning. And on a long table in between and underneath it all was my cake.
I’d been pretty heavy into Teen Titans at the time and knowing that, she’d gone all out and gotten the bakery down the street to put one together for me, all of the characters front and center with the message underneath. The best part of that cake though, had to be what it was made of.
Ice cream.
I mean whoever thought up the idea of ice cream cake, man, I’d like to give them the biggest hug. That cake was awesome.
When she started getting sick, and especially toward the end where she didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, much less bake even the smallest of cakes, having parties, friends over or even a few balloons was rare. It was around then that I gave up on birthday’s altogether.
If my mom couldn’t be a part of it and my dad was so caught up in her it was a miracle he even remembered the day, then what the hell was the point?
That’s why I didn’t bother telling Emery that it was coming up. Why I blew her off and changed the subject when she asked me about it. If I didn’t care about the day anymore, why should she?
What I’m seeing now, the amount of time that must have gone into putting it all together, along with the soft touches that only someone like Emery could make happen, it’s almost enough to restore my faith in the day.
Like, maybe, just maybe, my birthday isn’t just another day after all.
It might even be the most important day to someone other than me.
“So what do you think? Too much?”
Hooked on what looks like a clothes line, running from one end of the house to the other, is a banner. A colorful one with shiny blown up bubble letters reading Happy Birthday, along with a random assortment of balloons tied to the trees bordering all the way around her yard with pure white Christmas lights lighting up the ones directly in the corners.
It’s crazy, the amount of work done in just the few hours we’ve been apart, but what stands out most isn’t any of what I caught sight of the second she asked me to step outside with her. It’s what’s laying out directly in the middle of the yard that does that.
A large blanket placed flat with four rocks keeping it grounded in each corner and in the middle is a picnic basket, two lone plates lying flat on opposite sides, laying hint to what she has planned for the night.
Her surprise is a birthday dinner.
To be honest, I was hoping that by not mentioning my birthday she would have just let it go, but standing here now, I’m glad she didn’t.
It’s perfect.
She’s perfect.
“No…umm…it’s amazing.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you know me too well?”
She can’t believe what I’m saying because I don’t believe in it. I’m so blown away that even calling this amazing doesn’t seem right. It’s a whole lot more than amazing. She has no idea what she’s done here, and I’m starting to think with the way I stutter and stammer whenever she’s around that I’m too damn stupid to explain it to her.
There’s also a part of me that thinks my mom is here right
now. That’s how huge this is.
I can feel her.
“I just wasn’t expecting this, Ems. I’m blown away.”
“Well, I would have given you a heads up or at least done something even bigger and better if you’d have told me that your birthday was coming up. But because someone had to keep his normally big mouth shut, this was all I could come up with.”
“How’d you know this is what I wanted?” I ask, changing the subject, but wanting to know just how it is she could have nailed my last memorable birthday so easily. Had she called my dad and he told her? My old friends?
“I didn’t. At least not until now. I just wanted to do something a little more special than watching movies.”
“I love…it.” I choke up, swallowing down the urge to change up the last word. Something tells me that even though this would be the perfect time to say it, she’s not there yet. The last thing I want to do is rush it.
“I’m glad.” She smiles. “But if we don’t sit down and eat, the foods gonna be cold.”
“Lead the way.”
Following behind her as she practically skips all the way over to where the picnic basket is waiting for us, she sits and leans over, reaching inside and moving her hand around as she searches, finally bringing it back out when she’s gotten what she’s after.
A bottle of wine.
“It’s totally non-alcoholic stuff, but I figure we could pretend it’s real and we’re allowed to drink it.”
“In a hurry to reach drinking age?”
“Nope. Just imagining what life is going to be like ten years from now on this exact day.”
There it is again. The urge I have to pull her into my arms and kiss the breath from her body before declaring my love.
Ten years from now, us together and celebrating my birthday with a real bottle of wine over a picnic dinner.
Where the hell do I sign up?
The Space In Between Page 16
