"I don' know if I lurve you."
Jeff pauses in wrestling her out of his car.
"Twenny-tree. WOO-HOO! Y'know? I thought twenny-tree was nevah gonna happen. 'Cause pills. An' Dildopolis. Well, not Dildopolis, but the neighborhood, not Mr. Rodgers's Neighborhood, and…
"Yes, you've survived to the ripe old age of 23." Jeff grunts as he hauls her upright. "About what you just said…"
"Strong Jeff. Nice Jeff. Pretty Jeff."
"Conceded. No objection, your honor."
Jeff's trying to get her to walk, but her feet just won't work.
"Let's go back to that first thing you said…" Jeff begins.
"I say tha' owloud?"
"I'm going to kill Britta. She knows group bar-hopping never ends well," Jeff mutters as he drags her up the walk to the front stairs. "And yes, you said that out loud."
"Those stairs are wrong-ish. My legs are noodle-y. Oooh, grass looks comfy."
"Forget it, Duncan Jr." Jeff manages to catch her before she slides to the ground. He then drags her the rest of the way to the stoop and lowers her down so that she's sitting somewhat upright on the stairs.
"Hol' on, hol' on. Wal'way? Grass? When did that happen? Thish iz not my place."
"It's mine. You need someone sober to keep an eye on you. Shirley and I managed to be the only ones still sober at the end of the night. Since Shirley has kids and a husband, guess who was volunteered."
"Someone iz mad. An' you volun- vollum- voller- did that thing. I was there. HAH! Can't fool me."
"Yes. Fine. Also conceded. I volunteered. About that first thing you said…"
"Wha thing?"
Jeff sighs and rubs his face with his hands. Then he starts going sidewise.
Suddenly there's a hand on her shoulder holding her upright and Jeff is lowering himself onto the stairs next to her. "I think we better rest here a bit. You can lean against me."
Her head finds its way to something solidly meaty. "Mmmmmm, shouldeeerrrrrrrz."
"Just to be clear? We're pausing because the last thing I need is to explain how you managed to break your skull between my car and my front door." Jeff adds in a mutter, "Here's hoping a little night air will sober you up enough so I don't have to carry you."
"I like your handz. I 'speshully like your fingerz."
"Aaaaaand that's random."
"Nice fingerz. Long fingerz. C'mere fingerz."
Whoa. She managed to catch a hand. She holds it up to her face so she can get a closer look because, well, fingers, right? And no way is Jeff sober because his palm definitely smells like booze. She knows because her nose is right up against his palm. Need to test the theory, though. She takes a lick just to be sure.
Jeff makes a low sound. She giggles. It sounded like a cross between a groan and a growl.
"No!" Jeff yanks his hand away. "We are not doing this."
She can feel the pout forming on her face. "Wasn't doin' nothin'. Jus' lookin'."
Jeff blinks down at her and he's breathing like he just came back from a run. For some reason he's rubbing the hand she was holding with the thumb of his other hand.
"Stop actin' like I bit you. 'Cause I did not," she adds defensively.
Jeff's got that expression he gets when he's about to become unglued. "That is it. I am locking you in my bedroom for the night. It's the only way I can be sure that—"
"Didn' you hear wha' I said?" She stamps her foot, but just for emphasis. "I don' know if I luv you. So no to bein' wit' you in your bedroom 'cause I gotta tell you this thing 'cause I think I'm fallin' into Annie-of-It-All again an' I don' wanna be stupid again. Coush iz fine."
Jeff closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay. I see what I said wrong. I meant you take the bed, and I will take the couch. I may or may not be plotting to bar the bedroom door from the outside. In your condition, I wouldn't put it past you to wander into the living room while I'm sleeping and start licking my hand. Or smelling me. Or breathing on me. If that happens my very last nerve is definitely going to snap."
She squints at him. "Will you fit? On tha coush?"
"Yes. I will fit. I've done it before. And two," Jeff clears his throat, "that whole 'I don't know' thing you keep saying…"
"Ooooh, yah." She nods, and the world spins a little. "Is like, I like you right? You're my friend. Totally. An' I would mish you if you were gone, so don't go, 'kay? 'Cause I would mish you and be sad. An' I think I might, maybe, kinda, sorta still have a crush. On you. Don' be mad. I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Plus, you? Hot. Allllllthough…" She frowns as her voice trails off.
"Although?" Jeff prompts.
She lets out a breath. "Would it kill you to eat a brownie? Not ev'ry daaaay. Or ev'ry weeeeeek. Jus' a few timez a month? Make Shirley happy."
Jeff snorts, but he seems more amused than angry. "More carbs. Duly noted."
"Wait. Wha' waz I sayin'?"
"That I'm hot."
"Right. Hot. So, what I'm tryin' t'say is I don't know if what I feel is real real or if I just think it's real. Y'know? So, I figger, I talk to you pivate- priver- privit- alone."
Jeff looks down at her, but she can't puzzle out what his expression means. "Annie, how long have you been obsessing about this?" His voice is awfully quiet.
She waves vaguely in the direction of his car. "When did we pass the Qwik-E-Mart?"
She feels an arm go around her shoulders and her head slides to Jeff's chest. She can hear his heartbeat. It's kind of soothing. She can't stop the contented sigh that escapes her lungs.
"To sum up, the only reason why you're willing to talk to me about this is because you're drunk. Is that it in a nutshell?"
"Noooooooooo." She replays the question in her brain and realizes that since she can't possibly win, she might as well lose and lose big. At least this time she only has an audience of one. "Maybe," she finally admits.
Jeff is quiet a long, long time. The silence stretches out long enough that she feels the need to struggle to an upright position to get a look at his face.
He's staring down at the walkway, but in an empty kind of way. It's like his brain either checked out or he's deep in thought. She's not really sure which one is right, and it scares her a little bit.
"Jeff." She pokes him in the chest with her finger.
He startles and looks at her.
She screws up her courage because, well, because. "Wha' I'm tryin' to say iz that I feel…I feel…" She takes a deep breath because she has to get this next word just right. She has to. "I feel complicated for you."
Jeff startles in that way he does whenever she takes him by surprise, although she can't understand why he'd be surprised by this. Surely he had an inkling long before now. She has a habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, so she doubts anyone missed it. It's kind of a character flaw. She really needs to do something about it.
Then the strangest thing happens.
Jeff starts to laugh, but not in a mocking way. Not in an Annie-is-Being-Stupid-Again way. It's the kind of laugh she could wrap herself up in like she does with her grandmother's courting quilt when the apartment gets a little chilly and it's snowing outside.
Eventually the laughter trails off and Jeff's just smiling at her. "Complicated, hunh?"
She nods, but it's kind of a mistake because she's listing sidewise again. An arm re-captures her around her shoulders and once again her head is against Jeff's chest.
"I like that. Complicated." Jeff's voice is low against the top of her head.
Annie frowns to herself. Is this losing? Because if it is, it doesn't feel like it usually does. She must be getting a little bit more sober, because she manages to stop herself from voicing the thought out loud.
"Complicated," Jeff softly repeats. "I can work with that."