He walked in on her standing in the little kitchen, the loud noise of the range hood above the stove drowning out the noise of her chugging the Cheerwine, head tilted back, one small hand wrapped around the refrigerator handle. A small smile played on his lips, glad to see her indulging in the syrupy empty calories rather than the real thing, the poison he was so used to seeing her gulping down in that same position. Her hair, short and blond and wavy, was tied up in a little bun to get it off of her slim neck. Baby hairs, wet with sweat, stuck to the back of her neck, and she let go of the handle and wiped her hand along them, setting the bottle od soda back on the shelf of the fridge and sticking out her tongue in mock disgust as she wiped her now sweat-soaked hand on her grey cotton shorts. As she screwed the cap back on the bottle and shut the fridge, returning to the large sink built into the counter, she either ignored him or didn't notice his presence in the doorway; probably the former. The kitchen was just out of the line of sight of the other two house guests, who were sitting out in the screened in porch, finishing their dinner, and talking just loudly enough that their laughter could barely be made out above the din of the range hood. There was no way she could have heard him enter, but she knew he would follow her, because he always did, every Wednesday night when they'd have these little get togethers.
She liked cleaning up after the others. Not only did it give her some time to get away from constantly having to be social, but she got a bit of a break in the air conditioned house, although all the units were faulty and rarely worked and the door to the porch was open and letting the hot air in and the cool air out anyway. It was a momentary shield from the mosquitoes that seemed to multiply with every one that was swatted against a bare, sweaty leg, and even if it meant cleaning everyone's dirty dishes and possibly accidentally touching the wet food at the bottom of the drain, she was grateful for it. Still, as she ran her hand over the back of her neck again and then washed it off absentmindedly in the cold, trickling stream of sink water, she was just as grateful when he crossed the kitchen and nudged her over just a bit to stand beside her at the sink, picking up the soap and a sponge and getting to work on one of the dishes stacked in the teetering pile she had so precariously built up. They didn't exchange any words, but she nudged him back with her shapely hip, moved over, and accepted the dishes to dry them with the cheap paper towels she always bought as he finished washing them.
It never took long with the two of them, and they worked well together, occasionally slapping the other's arm or leg or cheek to kill the lone brave mosquito who had found its way into the kitchen after all. They'd giggle after this happened, but still they didn't speak, because words weren't really necessary between them anymore.
As she placed the last dish back on the shelf where it had come from, she turned back to the little island in the center of the kitchen, where he had already taken a seat and propped his head up in his hands. She crossed the room and flipped the switch to turn off the range hood, making it possible to make out everything that Jane and Jake were saying to each other out back- Jane insisting that she'd pay Jake if he came to help out at the bakery she planned on opening, which was all she ever talked about these days. Roxy took a seat across from him and intertwined her bare feet with his, clad in cheesy flip flops he'd picked up from some discount store.
"There's ice cream in the freezer," She said, picking up a napkin from the center of the table and slowly starting to tear tiny pieces off of it, building up a little pile of shreds next to her elbow,"You can get it out if you want," Roxy looked up at him, his eyes forever hidden behind those stupid sunglasses, the ones she'd almost poked her own eyes out on a million times. He shrugged at her, stood up and got it out. Strawberry. Neither Roxy nor Jane nor Jake really fancied strawberry ice cream, but he did and Roxy knew it. He flashed her a knowing smile and she answered him with a clumsy wink, before pushing her chair out and following him out to the porch, ice cream scooper in hand.
Jane and Jake welcomed them back, and Roxy flopped down next to her black-haired best friend, ruffling a manicured hand through her short curls,"Hi, Janey. We've got ice cream," She announced, bowing deeply and gesturing to Dirk with the hand she clutched the metal scooper in. He held out the ice cream and gently placed it in the center of the table, next to the stack of clean bowls Roxy had laid out earlier specifically for this time of the night. Jake started clapping ceremoniously, and Jane jumped to join in, Dirk following their suit as Roxy struggled with the lid for a moment before popping it off,"God, cut it out you guys. Fucking dorks," She said breathily, laughing as she did,"I scooped this shit last week, Jake did it the week before, it's your turn, Stridork," Roxy grinned, shoving the carton and the spoon into Dirk's not unwilling arms.
"Anything to please the masses," He joked, dutifully spooning out a few scoops into each bowl and passing them. As the two blondes settled in and sat down beside Jake and Jane, ice cream bowls nestled in their laps, he frowned at her as she reached across the table for her ever-present martini glass. She'd cut down on the drinking and he knew she tried, but the glass still seemed to be attached to her at the hip. He'd been proud of her drinking the soda, but he knew it wouldn't last, knew in a few minutes she'd be back to real wine. He caught her eye and even through the shades she knew he was disappointed, but even that didn't stop her from taking one last sip before putting it down. Jake and Jane seemed to have noticed the silent exchange, because the small talk they'd been picking at before died down into an uncomfortable silence. Jane, wanting to avoid the get together devolving into Dirk and Roxy fighting with each other like it often did, jumped up quickly and started collecting the finished bowls of ice cream, heading off to the kitchen with them stacked in her arms.
"I got it, Janey," Roxy stopped her, her soft pink eyes still fixated on Dirk, both of them stubborn to pull away from their childish staring concert. She held out her pale hand without looking at Jane, beckoning for the plates, but the other girl sighed and ignored her, bustling off into the kitchen. Jake cleared his throat and announced that he was leaving, leaning over awkwardly and kissing Roxy's sweaty, flushed cheek, thanking her for the lovely dinner, making the girl promise to text him because he hadn't gotten to tell her about the amazing film he'd just seen that he just knew she'd love.
After Jake left, screen door closing behind him, Roxy got up without a word to help Jane with the bowls, only to see she'd already finished and left through the other door. Roxy heaved a sigh, knowing she'd have to apologize to her best friend later. She always made things awkward- rather, Dirk did, with his seemingly incessant need to act like he was her father and reprimand her if she so much as picked up her martini glass. She hoped he'd leave if she stayed in the kitchen, and so she opened the cupboard, got a new glass, and poured herself a bit of wine before she sat down at the island and downed it in a few sips.
No such luck. He joined her within a few minutes, locking the door to the screened in porch behind him and turning on the fan as he entered the kitchen,"Good job," He said,"See how the drinking ruins all kinds of shit, Rox?"
"Oh, please," She rolled her eyes, slamming the now empty wine glass down on the wooden table, drawing her feet in under her chair,"You always blame it on the damn alcohol like you're not the one who's always callin' me out on it and shit. I don't get why, like, you've always gotta make a scene in front of people, cuz I'm not your kid, and you can't fuckin' scold me with your eyes in front of Jane and Jake."
"Yeah, well, I just did, so apparently I can," He said coolly, smirking as Roxy scrunched up her nose at him,"Really though, Rolal, just put the glass down for a little while, at least while they're here. You told them you stopped, you know. You told all of us you stopped. That's why Jake doesn't trust anything you say."
"She stood up quickly, chair jutting out behind her, before thinking better of it and sitting back down, curling her fingers around the stem of the glass,"That's not why Jake doesn't trust me," Roxy said curtly. Dirk, aware that he'd struck a nerve with the petite girl, wondered whether to continue poking the fire he'd just started or let it die down. He opted for the latter, figuring it was no use picking a fight with Roxy over something she was never going to budge about, and so he stood and turned to leave./
"Okay, Rox. Okay. I'm leaving."
"Don't leave," She said meekly to the wall of his back, standing up again, this time for good, pushing her chair in behind her,"Damn, Dirk, I was just gettin' started roastin' you, I hadn't even put you on the spit yet or nothin'," He was forgiven easily, because their arguments about this were hardly ever serious anymore, more just motions that they went through. They both knew that the other would never budge on their opinion, and so their strifes were petty and halfhearted and more playful than anything else.
"He turned back around, smiling at her with half of his mouth,"I hate to break it to you, Miss Lalonde, but you're all talk and no walk. We both know your weak insults would crumble under the prowess of my sick burns, anyway."
"You sound like a 12 year old boy."
"You look like a 12 year old boy."
"You're proving my point, you asshole," And so it went like it always did as they climbed the stairs together, pushing each other back and forth and giggling over each other before they stretched out on Roxy's bed sideways, talking until they fell asleep with the back of his knee just barely brushing her back, but nothing closer than that, though she yearned for it.