Half Baked

Chapter 36

Al rubbed his wet hair with a towel as he took a seat on his bed. Thoughts of working in the morning filled his head. He almost smelled the sweet scent of freshly-baked pastries as his mind lingered on his work environment. He rubbed at his wet hair with his towel. If he could get it dried before bed, then great. If not, well. Fine.

He fell back against his bed and rolled over before grabbing his phone from his side table with the intent to text Oliver. Screw walking into the other room. Besides, Oliver could've been asleep already. He couldn't wake Oliver up again after he'd tried so hard to fall asleep on the couch.

Al rubbed his eyes when he saw that he got a missed call. He flipped his phone open.

Study Bug had called him.

Al's eyes widened, and his fingers flew to call Arthur back. He pressed his phone to his ear and listened as the dial tone droned on and on before the call went to voice mail. He ended the call with a frown.

Don't worry yet.

He looked through his call history and redialed Arthur's number, pressing the phone to his ear again. The dial tone continued until the call went to voice mail again.

"Hey, Study Bug. Just called to make sure you're okay. I was in the shower, so I didn't pick up. Sorry. And I didn't see a text from you. So. Gimme a call tomorrow, and we can talk about why you called." Al bit his tongue. "Um. I'll hear from ya then. Bye." He flipped his phone closed and set it back on his side table. He let out a sigh.

Don't worry yet.

If Arthur was in trouble, or upset, or destroyed, he'd send a text or something like that. He'd never been one to just call without leaving a message.

"Crap," Al muttered and grabbed his phone. He sent a quick text to Oliver.

Al set down the tray of cookies and shucked off his oven mitts.

"Are you taking your break?" Oliver called back to him.

"Yup." Al hung his apron on a hook. He pulled out his phone and flipped it open. "Damn it."

"What?" Oliver dropped a sanitary rag in the yellow bucket.

Al shook his head briefly. "He called."

"Which he?"

"Study Bug."

"And that's bad?"

"It's bad I couldn't answer. I'll tell you about it after my break," Al called after Oliver as he headed out the back of the bakery.

The gravel crunched beneath his tennis shoes as he selected the voice mail and listened.

"Hi, Al. I'm sorry to worry you. You sounded worried. Everything's fine. I just wanted to talk with you. I miss you." Arthur's soft laugh pulled a smile onto Al's face. "Even though I just saw you. I'm excited to see each other again in the fall. Or sooner. Call me back—when it's convenient. Bye, Al. This is Arthur."

Al let out a laugh as the voice message ended. He opened up their text conversation, and all greetings flew from his head. His finger tapped against the side of his phone before he typed out a simple message. Al would rather hear Arthur's voice more than his vernacular in text, but he'd settle for anything. He mentally read over his message before sending it:

"Got your call. I'm working. Sorry. I'll call you when I get out. Keep your phone by you."

He looked over his message again, and he frowned. Was it…curt? Al rolled his eyes at his own concern and proceeded to send Arthur around ten to twelve emojis to lighten whatever mood he'd involuntarily made.

But what if that was sarcastic?

Al let out a frustrated huff and shook his head. He flipped his phone closed, slipping it into his pocket. He could address it later. Arthur seemed a little sturdier the last day he saw him. Surely, Arthur wouldn't fall to pieces at the possibility that Al may be sarcastic. Al groaned and leaned against the wall, periodically checking his phone until his break finished.

Oliver rested his upper body against the bakery door just after he locked it. "That took forever," he groaned. He eyed Al as he flicked the 'open' sign to 'closed.'

Al stacked freshly-washed pans, tossed the few dirty dishes he had into the pile of soapy sink water, threw the oven mitts on their correct shelf, and generally sped around the kitchen in a cleaning frenzy.

"Are you…worried?"

"Uh-uh," Al spoke quickly as he scrubbed the food from the dirty dishes. "Just wanna get out of here. You almost done?"

"You're not almost done."

"Wanna bet?" Al sent Oliver a grin.

After some tentative thought, Oliver turned Al's offer down before he went right to work on his closing duties. If Al intended to plow through closing procedures, then Oliver would have to hurry as well—otherwise, Al would bug him until they could leave.

And he did.

As Oliver counted down the drawer and deposited the excess in the safe, Al had gone around the bakery two or three times, checking over every surface and floor for any faults. And ignoring them.

"Just call him!" Oliver shouted at Al from the office. "I'll drive, for god's sake, just call him!" He would've thought it cute that Al was excited to talk with Arthur again, but it'd take some time for him to appreciate it.

Al paused and leaned against the counter, pulling out his phone. He flipped his phone open and read Arthur's text:

"I'll keep my phone with me and charged."

No emojis.

"Mm." It'd be dangerous territory to dive into a possibly negatively-charged conversation, but he'd risk it. Al typed in Arthur's number and held the phone to his ear. He eyed the closest table and chairs as the dial tone dulled his senses.

"Al," Arthur's voice rang out over the line, "you've managed to catch me." His breathing calmed as he spoke.

Al's eyebrows drew together. "Are you alright? Panic attack?"

"No, I just had to get out of the theater in a hurry. I haven't had a panic attack."

Al heard the smile in Arthur's voice. It was infectious. "Cool, good, good. I'll let you go, then. Can't miss the movie, right?"

"No, I can talk. I've made sure to leave the theater."

"C'mon. Movies cost money. Don't waste it. I'll talk to you after."

"I want to catch you up really quick."

Al watched as Oliver continued the closing procedures. "What's up, Study Bug?"

"I've missed you. And Oliver." Arthur paused. "Alfred and I talked. He said you two played video games and generally had fun with each other."

"Alfred would be right."

"I'm glad. …We talked some more. About other things." Arthur's finger rubbed against his phone. "We sort of agreed. And we decided to break up. We'd rather be friends. Or…I preferred friendship. He more or less accepted it."

"How're you feeling?"

"I'm okay. We're okay. We're at the movies, after all. It's…weird, but it's a good weird. You know?"

"Yeah, I understand." Al followed Oliver out of the bakery and waited for him to lock the doors. "So you both agreed on it?"

"Yes—" Arthur let out a relieved sigh, "—it was much more mutual than I anticipated. I'm very grateful for it. Uhm—I should get back. Perhaps. I'll text you after the movie, okay?"

"Okay," Al hummed as he pulled out his keys. Oliver stood by the passenger's door, waiting. "I'll text back. Bye, Study Bug."

"Bye, Al," Arthur whispered as he stepped back into the theater.

Once the line cut off, Al pocketed his phone and gave Oliver a calm smile. "They broke up."