When a Heart Trips

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When a Heart Trips Page 11

by Dominique Laura


  “Sweetie,” my mom says, sounding apologetic. “That’s not silly at all. You two went from seeing each other nearly every day at school to not at all. It’s a big adjustment. It’s okay to miss him.”

  I glance up, amazed at the mother I was blessed with. “How are you always so understanding about everything? And encouraging and nonjudgmental?”

  “Well, that’s easy.” She laughs. “I just always vowed to treat my kid differently than my own parents treated me. I love your grandparents, and they weren’t bad parents, but they had me too young, so I think it was too much for them at times.”

  “You once told me that we’re not given things we can’t handle, that God, the universe, or whoever you believe in only gives what they know we’re capable of holding,” I recite slowly, having held on to those words since the first time she said them to me. “I think that’s true for you. They might not have been the best to you then, but you all have the best relationship now.”

  “We really do, but when you have kids someday, if you do because it’s your choice, I don’t know if you’ll ever top me in the motherhood department,” she says, body shaking as she clearly tries to fight back laughter.

  I gasp, throwing the closest thing to me, which just so happens to be a dish towel. “Mom! So rude, but so hilarious.”

  She laughs before giving me a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay, Dev. We’re doing Thanksgiving early tomorrow, so you’re more than welcome to invite him over or try to meet up with him.”

  “Really? You wouldn’t mind?” I ask, barely holding back my happiness.

  “Of course not, it’s a day about being thankful, so you should be with the people who you’re thankful for,” she states confidently. “And I’m going to take a wild guess that this year he’s who you’re extra thankful for.”

  “As much as I love you and Dad, yeah, he definitely is,” I confirm, smiling the entire time I do.

  “You know, I’d really love to properly meet the guy you’ve been spending so much time with.” She gives me a look only mothers have seemed to master, and I nearly cower in embarrassment for some reason.

  Still, I promise. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “So, what are your plans for tomorrow?” I ask, mentally preparing to ask him a question I’ve been phrasing and rephrasing inside my head since my talk with my mom today.

  We’re FaceTiming, and I’m using my laptop to do it because I’m way too exhausted from all of the Thanksgiving day preparations to hold my phone up right now. Lying on my back while nearly being swallowed whole by my bed sounds like absolute heaven right now, but I’ll settle for just lying on my side.

  “We’ll probably have an early lunch, and then my mom and whoever else wants to join will head out to start Black Friday shopping,” he shares, yawning as soon as the words leave his mouth, which prompts me to yawn also.

  “You look as exhausted as I feel,” I comment, noting the rare bags he has beneath his eyes that are a tinge darker than the rest of his skin.

  “Yeah,” he says, yawning again. “It was a long day. Having family come in from out of town is always really exhausting for some reason. Like I love them, sure, but playing host can be a lot of work.”

  “I bet,” I sympathize. “My family is pretty small, but this is one of my mom’s favorite holidays, so we spent most of the day in the kitchen preparing for tomorrow’s grand meal.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun though,” he says with a smile. “I know you mentioned rarely getting to cook or bake or even being good at it, so how was that today?”

  “My mom gives me the most minimal, simple tasks that I’m sure even a toddler could do, so I’d say it went pretty well.” I laugh. “Speaking of, my mom and I had a little conversation about you today.”

  “All good things, I hope?” His lips tilt up in a small smile, and mine do the same.

  “It was mostly about how much I miss you right now,” I admit softly, butterflies taking form in my stomach as his small smile turns into a full one.

  “You miss me?” he asks, tone playful.

  “I did, but I’m sure with more thought and consideration that I’ll change my mind, so please hold.” My tone is sarcastic and joking, and based on the slight scoff he gives, he’s well aware I’m being silly and doesn’t take me seriously.

  “That’d be a crying shame, Dev,” he says quietly. “Because I miss you a lot right now too, even with you just on the other side of the screen.”

  “It just isn’t the same, but I am grateful because I’d rather have you this way than not at all, ya know?” And then I quickly ask what I’ve really wanted to since we connected on FaceTime. “Depending on your life schedule tomorrow, do you want to maybe come over? You definitely don’t have to at all, but it’s Thanksgiving, and you’re who I’m most thankful for right now, so I’d really like to see you and—”

  “Dev,” Jules interrupts my rambling, chuckling softly. “I’d love to come over tomorrow. It’ll be really good to see you.”

  I breathe in and out deeply. “I really like that answer a lot. I don’t know why I was so nervous to ask. I’m just still so new to this.”

  “You and I both, Dev, but it just means that we’re learning together,” he says. “Getting to know you has become one of my favorite things to do. There’s always more to you than what’s on the surface. You’re better than an onion.”

  “Better than an onion?” I bark out a laugh. “What does that even mean?”

  “Ya know, I’m not really sure.” He lightly smacks his hands against either side of his face, trying to wake himself up. “I’m just really exhausted right now. I’m about two minutes from knocking out for the night.”

  “Honestly, same.” I agree. “So, how about we call it a night and promise to finally see each other tomorrow? I may attack you with hugs and kisses and be super clingy, which isn’t really like me, but right now, I don’t care. I must really like you because I never thought I’d be this girl.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asks sleepily.

  “No, it’s not bad, it’s just different, and it’s going to take some getting used to, but I don’t think I mind.”

  “Well, I more than like you, Dev,” Jules confesses, lips pursing in an all-knowing smirk. He’s about to fall asleep and leave me with that little bit of information? He’s insane.

  “I’m going to assume that’s your exhaustion talking because if it isn’t, well, then I’m not sure what I’ll do.” My voice shakes with nerves because despite his joking, cute tone, this is not a conversation I am equipped to have right now.

  He more than likes me. And I’m pretty sure I more than like him too. But it’s too soon, right? There’s no way it’s that four letter word that starts with L and ends in E. No, because then I’d be the insane one, right? Oh gosh. This must be how it feels when you really, really like someone.

  “Dev, get out of that head of yours.” He lowers his voice, smiling reassuringly at me.

  “There’s nothing to overthink, I promise.”

  “Okay,” is all I say, pushing those thoughts aside and focusing on Jules.

  “Now, because I can barely keep my eyes open, I’m going to say goodnight.”

  “Tomorrow will be here before we know it, so I’ll see you then, hopefully more presentable and less sleep-deprived,” I manage through a yawn, shaking my head to stay awake long enough to end the call when I need to.

  “Sounds like a plan.” Jules’ eyes are already closed, but his mouth seems to be in a permanent smile as he slips into dreamland, a light snoring sound now coming in through my speakers.

  Well, that was quicker than expected, I think to myself, laughing maniacally from my own exhaustion as I also slip into dreamland with a smile on my face.

  Nineteen

  I deny this every year, and every year on Thanksgiving, I’m proven wrong because yes, there is such a thing as too much pie. I love pie. All desserts, really. So, having one slice of one type of pie is just
unacceptable. Instead, I choose to make my own platter with a sample piece of every pie available. My stomach is full with apple, pecan, peach, strawberry, and pumpkin at the moment, and my mind doesn't regret it one bit. My body, on the other hand? Yeah, my body is trying to revolt and kill me at the moment.

  My phone vibrates against my thigh, and I groan from my position on the couch, barely mustering enough energy to read whatever’s lighting up my screen.

  Jules: Haven’t heard from you in a bit, but I’m heading your way now. Hope that’s okay.

  Despite the heaviness weighing on my body from the amount of food I’ve consumed, I manage to smile and send back a decently coherent reply.

  Me: Totally OK. I’m in the process of recovering from a food coma, but I’ll try to speed that process up. LOL

  Jules: That just means you did Thanksgiving right. See you in a few.

  I hop onto my feet as quickly as possible, pausing to get my unbalanced self together because standing up felt like the equivalent of walking off a super intense roller coaster. I throw my hair into a messy topknot and forego shoes for slippers as I move to head out the front door and meet him before he arrives.

  “Devon, why are you running?” Mom calls out just as I pass her in the kitchen, where she stands putting away all the leftover food. I stop before her, and my stomach churns at the reminder of all I’ve consumed today. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

  “I’m already sick,” I call back, hand resting on my stomach for added emphasis.

  “Well, then, you’re going to make yourself more sick,” she says, laughing. “And I know I’ve been telling you this since you were a little girl, but please, no running in the house.”

  I roll my eyes dramatically at her reminder. “I know, I know, it’s just that Julian is almost here, and I want to meet him outside first before bringing him in to meet you and Dad.”

  “Well, just be lucky that me and your dad are the only two people he has to meet.” And then her eyes take on an all-knowing gleam, you know the one that all mothers seem to have perfected. “A few people lingered after dinner. So, is that why you waited to invite him over until now? Because the last of our guests have left for the day?”

  I laugh, once again playfully rolling my eyes. “No, that is just a happy coincidence. His family meal ended up starting later than expected, so he couldn’t be here any earlier. But thank you for reminding me that I dodged a gigantic, embarrassing bullet with him coming over now. That’s just another thing to be thankful for.”

  Mom shakes her head in amusement, lips pursing in a small smile. “Your father is taking his annual post-Thanksgiving meal nap in his man cave, so you might have dodged two, what did you just call them, oh yeah, gigantic, embarrassing bullets.”

  I release a deep breath, pressing my hands together in prayer form, shaking them lightly to showcase my gratefulness. “The big man upstairs is full of unexpected gifts today.”

  A pasta noodle is thrown my way, and I send her a glare and catch it with my mouth.

  “You did that on purpose,” I grumble around the lone noodle that I refuse to chew and swallow.

  “I did,” she confirms, sounding not at all apologetic. “And it was hilarious.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off, just as the sound of light knocking on our front door sounds. My eyes widen, and my body ignites with anticipation, knowing it’s Jules who stands on the other side waiting. “He’s here! Okay, be cool, Mom. Please. This is a big deal for me.”

  “When am I anything but cool, Devon?” she asks, her tone serious, even as she holds up two peace signs.

  I gasp in dramatic shock at her ability to be both cool and uncool at once. I shake my head, knowing she’s only messing with me, as I practically sprint to the door. Again, the contents of my stomach protest at this, but that discomfort is long-forgotten when I swing the front door open and throw my hands around Jules’ waist, not giving him a moment to even say hello before attacking him with my affection.

  “Dev, it’s good to see you too,” he chuckles, arms wrapping around my body to return my hug, squeezing me just as tightly.

  When I feel his lips press against the top of my forehead, I nearly melt. “Let’s just stay like this for a few days, yeah? We won’t miss much of the real world anyway.”

  He laughs, body vibrating against mine as he somehow manages to hold me even tighter against him. “We could, sure, but I think it would get uncomfortable after awhile.”

  “Not at all,” I deny, moving my head against his chest. “Ugh, I feel so silly and giddy and relieved right now. So relieved. I’m so happy you’re here, you have no idea.”

  “Oh, I think I have some idea,” he says, slowly pulling away, and I reluctantly do the same.

  “Devon, are you two going to stand in the doorway all night or are you going to actually come in and say hello?” my mother jokingly shouts from the kitchen.

  “I guess that’s my cue to formally introduce you to my mom,” I say gingerly, looking up at him. “I’m sure my dad will wake up from his nap just for this moment.”

  Jules laughs, taking my hand in his. “It’ll be fine. I’m great with parents, I think.”

  “Well, we’re about to find out now, aren’t we?” I breathe out, shaking off any and all nerves because they’re not necessary.

  When we’re both in the kitchen and facing my mom, she has a sour look on her face as her eyes roam over me and Jules and our interlocked hands. I look over to see a nervous look twisting his features, and I shake my head at my mom, raising a brow in question.

  “I think you’ve intimidated him enough, Mom, you can go back to being cool now,” I say quickly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze for encouragement before pulling away and stepping aside a bit.

  “Phew,” she says hysterically, holding her palm out for him to shake, which he does confidently and with ease, the nerves he displayed before now hidden by his sureness. “I’m Maggie, it’s nice to finally meet the young man who’s stolen my daughter’s attention.”

  “It’s nice to finally meet you too, Mrs. Carrillo,” he starts, but then he’s interrupted by my mother when she corrects him.

  “Maggie is just fine. We’re not a very formal family.”

  “Okay, Maggie,” he says with a smile, looking over at me with wide eyes as if to communicate that this isn’t so bad.

  “I was wrong, your dad hasn’t woken up yet,” Mom says to me, a slight smirk on her face. “So, I wouldn't be surprised if he interrupts you two later to introduce himself. But he’s a kind man who only wants the best for his daughter, and you’re the first boy she’s ever brought home. He may try to intimidate you, but just let him. It’ll help with his fatherly ego.”

  Jules laughs, and so do I as I tell him, “He’ll try his best to act tough, but he’s honestly the best.”

  “What are you two going to do right now?” Mom questions, her tone less light than before, and I know what she’s really asking.

  “Probably go to my room for some privacy, but I’ll be sure to leave the door open to keep any suspicions from being raised,” I promise. “Do you need any help with anything now though?”

  “No, I’ve got it.” She waves me off. “You two go hang out, just be safe and all that.”

  “Oh my gosh, Mom, be safe doing what, exactly? Talking?” I ask jokingly.

  “Yeah, that can get a little dangerous, can’t it?” she asks cheekily, hip jutting out to lean against the counter. “It can also lead to other more intimate things, so yeah, be safe.”

  I groan dramatically, signaling for Jules to follow me. “Come on, let’s go hide before she says anything more embarrassing.”

  He just laughs, giving my mom a light wave as he follows me through the house to my room.

  “That wasn’t so bad, right?” I tell him softly, internally freaking out at the seriousness of this moment but downplaying it.

  He met my mother. He’s at my home. And he’s about to be in my room for the first t
ime. As far as relationship milestones go, I’d say this is a pretty big step in a really good direction.

  “Not at all,” he says quietly. “You two seem a lot alike, actually. Not just in looks, but in personality. You must take after your mom in a lot.”

  “I do,” I huff. “As much as I used to want to deny it and come into my own without being compared to her, she did raise me, so our similarities are insane. At least there’s no denying that I’m her child; that’s something.”

  He just shakes his head, chuckling at my words. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”

  When we reach my bedroom door, I stop and turn around to face him before allowing him in. “I’ve never had a boy in my room before, so this is a pretty big deal. Just don’t judge me too harshly for whatever you’re about to see, okay?”

  “See, I wasn’t worried before, but now? Now I’m a little bit worried,” he reveals, eyes popping wider for added effect.

  “It’s not anything serious or bad, I’m just nervous to have you in my space, the one area in this entire world that is completely mine, ya know? But I’m also a little excited for you to see what makes me, well, me.”

  “Dev,” he whispers, hands going to either side of my face to hold me steady. “Just let me in, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, blinking up at him hurriedly. “Yeah, you’re totally right.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” he says, breath fanning my face as he leans his head closer to mine to press a small, lingering kiss against my lips.

  I sag, any and all nerves at this situation fading as his kiss centers me, though I could really use an Altoids right about now.

  “How is it possible to fall so deeply for someone while still getting to know them?” I blurt, lips moving against his as I speak. “I feel like there’s still so much to learn about you, like I’ve just scratched the surface, and yet, my heart doesn’t care. It lov—I mean, it wants you in every way. And I just don’t understand how that’s possible.”

 

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