Authors: Carla Krae
“Patrick, I’ve never found you boring.”
Color crept up his neck.
“Thank you.”
He stood.
“Well, goodnight, Jess.”
“Sweet dreams.”
He went into his room and shut the door.
Sighing, I stretched out on the sofa and turned on the news.
Chapter Nine
I came home late the rest of the week, people-watching with Matt at the coffee bar for an hour or so before heading home.
Except today, Friday.
It was movie night.
This time, I wanted to try to get Patrick out of the house.
He spent too many hours staring at a screen and it wasn’t healthy.
“Come on, bud, you and I are going outside. I made garlic parmesan popcorn and we’re sneakin’ it into a theater tonight.”
“Jess…”
“Unh-uh, no ‘Jess’ tonight.
You need to do something besides work and work.”
“I go to the gym.”
“Not helping your cause, Ricky.”
I grabbed his arm and tugged.
“I’m not giving you an option here. Unless you’re deathly ill, you’re coming with me and seeing a movie.”
“Fine…”
He opened the closet to get a coat, so I let go.
Hey, I wouldn’t put it past him to run into his room and lock the door.
He dragged his feet less as we got to my car.
I had two equal-size bags of popcorn in my coat pockets.
The nearest theater was a big one, with twenty screens.
Patrick tried to pay for himself.
I wouldn’t allow that, either.
“I made you come, I’m buying.”
“As you wish.”
A sigh.
He couldn’t wear 3D glasses over those chunky frames he wore, so I stuck to standard presentation times, and chose a movie starting in thirty minutes.
We walked right in, yay.
I dropped a bag of popcorn on his lap.
“Want a soda or anything?”
“No. I don’t drink—”
“Yeah, I know, health nut.”
“Your body would thank you if you cut it out, too.”
“It’s not like I drink a lot of soda, geesh.”
He glanced around.
“Not a lot of people, yet.”
“This came out two weeks ago, so there shouldn’t be a crowd.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll warn you now—don’t panic if I have to wipe my eyes. I’m sentimental.”
“Okay.”
“Some men freak out at women crying.”
“I can handle it for a movie.”
“Good.”
Then he passed me a handkerchief.
I didn’t know men under sixty carried them.
“Just in case.”
“Wise-ass.”
“Then I’ll take it back.”
“No.”
I tucked it in my pocket.
“No take back-
sies
.”
“Okay, Jess.”
He was amused.
It was subtle, unlike most people, but I’d learned his sense of humor after two and a half weeks.
“Tomorrow will be two weeks since we signed for the apartment. Can you believe that?”
“Time flies…”
When you’re having fun?
“Any regrets?” I teased.
He glanced at me.
“No.”
“Good.
Because you’re locked in for six months, anyway.”
“Brat.”
“Me?”
My phone buzzed.
Texts were unusual on Fridays, so I looked.
Ros
.
Free tomorrow?
“It’s your sister.”
“The prodigal child returns?”
Still some tension there.
I showed him the text.
“She’s your friend, Jess.”
I wrote back:
What for? When?
I’ll e-mail
, she replied.
Hmm.
Muted the phone and put it back in my pocket.
“She’s gonna e-mail me.”
“Alright.”
Previews started and we stopped talking.
I’m a reactive watcher.
Movies make me laugh, cry, scream, gasp…I get caught up in them and don’t hold anything back, even when an ex-boyfriend made fun of me for it.
My dad liked to wait for scary parts and grab my knee to make me scream.
Thought it was hilarious.
Tonight, Patrick flinched every time I made a sound, obviously not used to sitting next to someone like me in a theater.
Well, it was a twitch more than a flinch, but still.
At a suspenseful part, I grabbed his leg without thinking, then immediately let go with a mumbled, “Sorry.”
Wow, like grabbing a rock.
I’d never seen his thighs.
If he wore shorts, they went down to his knees.
Now I really wanted to catch a glimpse.
He’d be glorious naked.
Just knew it.
Mind on the movie, Jess!
Mental undressing of roommates was rude.
At least without their consent.
I knew that even if my brain didn’t want to play along.
When the lights came on, I said, “Sorry about groping you.”
“It was an accident.”
“Yep.”
One I didn’t regret.
“So, are you happy I dragged you out of the house?”
“It wasn’t awful.”
“Ooo, ringing praise.
Come on. I’m feeling like ice cream.”
Which was an easy walk outside the theater.
Patrick paid for the scoops.
Touché.
He chose a cup, I chose a cone.
Surprise anyone?
At least he didn’t order vanilla.
Had to give him credit for asking for the chocolate raspberry.
A couple walked by with a Golden Retriever as we were leaving.
The dog darted straight for my roommate.
Shockingly, he immediately knelt down and scratched the dog’s ears.
“You’re a dog-lover?”
“Who doesn’t like dogs? We had one when we were kids. Don’t you remember?”
Nope.
“
Ros
and I didn’t spend time in your backyard.”
“Girls…”
“Hey!”
“Rosalind is a stereotypical girly-girl and you always did what she wanted to do.”
“Did not.”
“Back then, you did.”
“How would you even know?”
“I’m not as oblivious as people think.”
“I wasn’t a follower. We liked the same things.”
“Alright.”
“I sense you don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say that. But childhood memories can be suspect.”
“You’re saying I remember things how I want to remember them?”
A shrug.
“Perhaps.
Perhaps I do, too.”
Huh.
Okay, then.
It was a slow walk to the car, which I didn’t mind.
When we reached the car, he found a can to toss our trash.
I waited to get in until he returned.
It’d be nice one day if he could drive when we went somewhere.
Bet he’d open my door.
“Do you have a current license?” I asked.
“From Colorado.
Why?”
“Just curious.
You haven’t talked about driving here.”
“Oh. I’ll get around to it. Need to replenish my savings.”
“Okay.”
I started the car.
“What would you like to have?”
“Something practical.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“What’s wrong with practical?”
“Nothing, but it’s not the be-all, end-all of life. Take me—I do the practical and the impractical and I’m doing just fine.”
“Not everyone can do that balance, Jess.”
“Wasn’t talking about ‘everyone’.”
Braked for a red light.
“Can you say you wouldn’t enjoy a Ferrari?”
“A Ferrari is never practical.”
“Unless you want traffic to part for you in Italy.”
“You can be a maddening woman.”
“Thank you.”
Light turned green and I continued home.
“You like it.”
“I do not like to bicker.”
“Then don’t go along with it.”
I grinned.
He frowned.
“Like I said—maddening.”
“Isn’t life better with a little spice?”
He didn’t have an answer to that and I felt like I won.
Surprised me when he didn’t retreat to his room right away, though.
Granted, it wasn’t late, but still.
Maybe I was getting somewhere.
“Thank you for the movie,” he said, hanging up his coat.
I passed him mine as well.
“You’re welcome.”
I sat on the sofa and kicked off my shoes.
“We should probably eat some real food, huh?”
Surprise came over his face.
“You tricked me into eating popcorn and ice cream for dinner.”
“Did I?”
Can’t you see my halo?
“Naughty Jess.”
Oh God, say that again.
“What will I do with you?” he sighed.
Don’t answer, don’t answer!
That was a dangerous question, especially when he didn’t have a clue.
“We can order pizza.”
“Or a nice healthy salad.”
“Eww.”
“You’ve had salad before.”
“Because it came with my meal.
Making dinner of salad? You’re crazy.”
“Some kale, some quinoa, a little grilled chicken…”
“Now you’re just torturing me, Ricky.”
“Would I?”
I laughed.
Well played.
Turnabout was fair and all that.
“Friday is almost always pizza night. Please?”
I pouted.
He swallowed and looked away from me, turning to the fridge.
Ha!
I’d found a weakness.
With great power came great responsibility, though.
I couldn’t throw the pout and doe eyes at him all the time or he’d grow immune to it.
Learned that one with my father as a kid.
“Fine.
But no extra cheese and I’m picking healthy toppings.”
“Deal!”
The number for Dominos was on a magnet on the fridge.
He called in the order.
“After tonight, I’m tempted to drag you to the gym in the morning.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Bright and early.”
“If you wake me early on a weekend I will throw something at you.”
“We’ll see.”
This could practically be called…playful.
Had I finally earned a glimpse into the real Patrick?
It made that schoolgirl part of me giddy.
While we waited for delivery, I checked e-mail.
Sure enough, one from
Ros
.
“Your sister’s having a going-away party.”
“What?”
“She got a promotion and a transfer. She’s leaving.”
“When?”
“The party is tomorrow.”
“No, when—”
“Doesn’t say.
The e-mail is an e-
vite
for the party.”
I closed it.
“You probably have one, too.”
Ros
moving away from L.A. and this is how she tells me—a generic party invite that went out to all her friends.
It stung.
Sure, there could be a good explanation, but either way, I was losing my best friend.
I knew
Ros
.
We lasted through going to different colleges because I made the effort.
She was always focused on the here and now.
“I’m sorry, Jess.”
Patrick had sat next to me and I hadn’t noticed.
“I know this isn’t news you wanted.”
“It’s fine.”
Put on my bravest smile.
“I’m happy for her. She’s worked hard for this.”
His hand covered mine.
“Hey, you don’t have to pretend. Not here.”
“Excuse me. I need to—
”
I
escaped to my bathroom.
Let a couple tears run down my face, then splashed them away with water.
Used the toilet just for an excuse to come back here.
A cleansing
breath,
and composure.
Patrick was at the door paying the kid.
I grabbed my funniest movie and put it in the
Blu
-Ray player.
The sound of the menu caught his attention and I saw understanding on his face.
He was letting it go.
I loved him for that.
Shit
.
“Got everything you ordered?” I asked.
He was setting out paper plates.
“Including these.”
He presented a box of parmesan bites.
Now I really did love him.
Stupid man was going to make me cry.
“Awesome!”
I ate those first.
Don’t look at me like that.
A girl can eat her feelings during times like these.
I had four pieces of pizza, too.
Hello, food coma.
Something brushed my face.
“You fell asleep,” Patrick said softly.
He was close enough to touch me.
“Sorry.
Food coma.”
“Yeah.
Figured.”
I stretched.
It was almost midnight.
How long had he let me sleep?
“Well, goodnight.”