Hey guys, it's been a while again. And again, I'm sorry. Not gonna go into anything long because I do that too often, but as always, thank you for all your support, y'all are amazing!
Anyway, some Navrina in this chapter for you guys and also some Riley and Stanley in the second part. Thanks for sticking with this story, you are all awesome :)
Read on and I hope you enjoy!
Joseph
"There is really nothing to worry about." I assure Marina as we both get out of the car. I look across the roof of the vehicle to witness the girl worriedly looking up at the blue siding like she'll have to take a test on it later. Before today, I had no idea meeting somebody's parents could be so stressful, but Marina has effectively proved me otherwise.
"I know." She replies.
I chuckle. "No you don't."
She lets out a breath, like a sigh, probably a little irritated that I guessed her anxiousness. I walk around the back of the car, noting the sun's late position in the sky. It's nearly six o clock and almost dark. Tonight is also Halloween, so I know the kids will start to make their rounds soon. In hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea to hold dinner on a night full of ringing doorbells and interruptions, but according to Mom, I've already been seeing Marina for far too long without introducing her. Ella is staying at a friends house tonight, so she had some time to spare. I'll roll with it.
I walk towards Marina as she tucks an invisible strand of hair behind her ear, quickly touching the top of her head, where the start of her tidy, but thick, french braid commences. I come up behind her and place my hands on her shoulders, careful not to startle her.
"You look radiant, Your Majesty." I assure her earnestly, lightly squeezing her shoulders. The comment would usually make her blush, but she must be too nervous for that right now, because her face is just it's natural dark-ish shade when she turns around.
"Is there anything I should know before we go in?" She asks, taking a couple of slow steps backwards towards the walkway leading to the door. "Brothers or sisters? Topics I shouldt mention? Topics I shouldn't- Wait, do you guys say grace?" Her questions come out in a little bit of rush, and I have to replay the conversation in my mind for a second before I answer.
"No. None that I know of. And no." I tilt my head slightly. "Do you say grace at your house?"
Marina shrugs. "When we eat together. Why?"
"Just for future reference."
The comment only gets a small, albeit beautiful, smile out of her before she turns around and keeps walking. I can see why she's not too hopeful when it comes to including me in family matters. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm allowed back in the house after my brilliant first impression. If the glare I got from the woman is enough to go on (and I think it is), I'll have to preform a miracle for Marina's Mother to tolerate me. At least Ella already likes me.
"Oh, there actually is something you should know." I speak up from behind her. She looks at me over her shoulder and stops where the walkways curves toward the door so I can pass her. "I'm adopted."
Her pause is barely even audible, and I probably wouldn't have heard it if I wasn't listening for a reaction. "Okay, yeah that is a good thing to know."
I nod and pull my keys out of my pocket. It occurs to me that I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but it never came up. Oh well, I'm sure she would have put two and two together anyway when she saw my two parents, who are both very caucasian.
"Where were you adopted from?" Marina asks, and I realize her pause was on account of my possible insecurities with the admission. "If you don't mind me asking of course." She adds quickly.
"India." I say, pushing my key into the lock. "But I'm pretty sure one of my parents was white." I tell her the information easily. I'm not sensitive about the topic and don't resent my birth parents for giving me up. I just feel lucky to end up where I did, and that's really all there is to it.
I unlock the door and motion for Marina to go in first, which she doesn't seem particularly confident about. We end up in the porch at the end of two sets of stairs; one going up and one going down, that meet right here. I don't even have the chance to take off my shoes before my mother appears at the top of the steps, hands clasped together in front of an apron. My mother is a small, and slightly round woman, only standing about five feet and five inches off the ground. She's a very excitable person to say the least, as I'm sure Marina has already picked up on by her wide grin. Marina smiles back politely but it definitely comes nowhere near my mother's enthusiasm, which is almost impossible to match anyway.
"Marina, this is Mom. Mom, this is Marina." I gesture between the two women, but Mom just dismisses my introduction with a wave of her hand.
"I am more than capable of introducing myself, Joseph." She chides. I put my hands up in surrender and work on taking off my shoes as she starts to descend the stairs. I hop over to the side to make room, as the porch is only small and can hardly accommodate three people. It only occurs to me that I shouldn't have left Marina alone when it's too late.
"Hi, Marina. I'm Donna, it's so lovely to finally meet you!" She steps off the last stair, already opening her arms for a hug. Marina responds quickly for someone who I'm pretty sure was expecting a handshake, her only surprise showing through briefly raised eyebrows before Mom pulls her into an embrace.
"It's great to meet you too." Marina replies, smiling genuinely like she was expecting this forwardness, even though I know she wasn't. It may have been wise to warn her.
Suddenly, my mother pulls back but doesn't let Marina go yet. She keeps her hands on my girlfriend's shoulders and holds her at arms length, smiling fondly like she's an old friend. Mom sighs contently. "Wow, just beautiful."
I stifle a laugh at my mother's behaviour and lower my head so neither of them can see my hardly contained grin. Marina feels uncomfortable when I say that to her, let alone a middle aged woman she's just met. "Um, thank you." Marina's response is probably the best anyone could come up with considering the circumstances.
Mom looks at Marina for another second before nodding, like she's affirming her earlier statement. She pats her shoulders and then turns to go back up the steps, explaining that the food will burn if she leaves it for any longer. Marina focuses on taking her shoes off when Mom gets out of sight, though ducking her head doesn't block my view from the red I see entering her cheeks, most likely in response to Mom's latest comment. She finishes with her shoes and looks at me leaned up against the wall, not being able to keep the amusement off my face.
"I think that went well." I say.
"Yup." She agrees quickly, but also looking like she doesn't know what else to say. I wouldn't say she knows what to make of my mother. Marina runs a hand over her hair. If I were to take a guess, I would assume the action is less about checking the state of her hair, and more about finding something to do with her hands. She looks at me again and her hand drops when she sees my widening grin.
"What?"
I shake my head. "Oh nothing, it's just..." I gesture around her face, indicating her blush. She turns around before I can see her roll her eyes, but I'm sure she did it.
"Yeah, I know." She starts up the steps and a follow close behind her, knowing she may need directions at the top.
"Don't worry, it's cute." I tease.
"That's comforting." She replies dryly. I laugh and direct her left at the top of the stairs, into the living room.
We don't even have a chance to sit on the couch before Dad makes his way into the room, acting like he didn't know we were here. In actuality, there's a likely chance that he was just waiting patiently for the right time to make a 'casual' entrance.
"Marina, is it?" He asks, shaking her hand. "I'm Reynolds, nice to meet you."
Marina has that genuine smile on again as she replies, "You too."
Dad doesn't study her the same way Mom did, or at least not as obviously, which I'm glad about. "Well, dinner will be ready in a minute. Hope you like mac and cheese." He says.
"Sounds perfect."
Dad grins at Marina's quick compliance and pats me on the shoulder as he heads to the kitchen. "She's out of your league, Joey." He chuckles, winking before disappearing around the archway of the kitchen.
Marina seems slightly amused by the nickname, although looking a little lost while standing in the middle of the living room. I guide her to a couch and we take a position on either side of the small sofa, still only about a foot away from each other. I would put an arm around her if we were alone, but being really close to one another kind of feels weird with my parents just in the next room.
I raise an eyebrow as Dad comes back out of the kitchen almost immediately after he went in. "Back so soon?"
"So it seems." He takes a seat in the recliner in the corner, balancing his elbows on his knees. "I've been sent to, uh, entertain I think." He shrugs, making it obvious that it wasn't his idea. I know he's interested in getting to know Marina, but usually it's Mom pressing the questions. "So, I trust he's treating you well?" He asks Marina after a short pause. Really, Dad?
Marina laughs a little, a smooth, mature sound. "I have to say, he is quite the gentleman." She says. My eyebrows shoot up and I feel a stupid grin on my face. A gentleman.
"Hmm, high praise." Dad says, noting my pride. "Has he opened doors for you?"
"Yes."
He raises an eyebrow. "Even the car door?"
Marina gives another chuckle. "Yes."
"Has he paid for your meals?"
"Every single one." She replies, shooting me a quick glance of playful annoyance.
"Has he brought you flowers on any occasion?"
"Yes."
"Has he dressed appropriately for said occasions?"
"In my opinion, yes."
"Ah, very good." My Dad's grin mirrors mine, the same pride in it upon hearing I've been doing what he taught me to.
Dad continues to make small talk with her. Nothing too personal, but enough to keep the conversation going. Marina seems to be a natural, with her mature responses and kind smile. I think she's just the type of person that can win anyone over in an instant, I would know first hand.
Eventually, Mom calls us out to the kitchen for supper. I naturally direct Marina to the seat next to mine, our meals already on the plates set around the table. Mom sits across from me and Dad sits next to her, across from Marina. I'm thankful he's at least serving as a slight buffer between Mom's enthusiasm and the shy girl next to me.
"I was hoping to make something a little more extravagant tonight, but by the time Joseph let me know you were coming, this is all that I could whip up in time." Mom says apologetically, briefly wiping her hands on her apron before pulling her seat closer to the table.
"Well, the most extravagant mac and cheese I've ever had has been out of a box, so consider me impressed." Marina assures lightly. Mom's appreciative grin is evidence enough that it was the right thing to say.
"Oh, I like her." She chirps to me, then looks at Marina again. "I like you."
"I'm sure she's picked up on that." Dad comments, already starting in on his meal. I try to keep a straight face but know I failed when my Mother shoots a hard look in my direction.
"So Marina," my Mother turns her attention back to the girl beside me, grinning again like she wasn't interrupted, "what do you like to do?"
And it seems we've reached the first of many poorly narrowed questions of the evening. It's a pretty hard question to answer really. Hell, when I asked Marina this question, she just told me she was boring.
"I spend a lot of my time doing homework or taking care of sister, so I don't do much really." Marina answers with a small laugh. I suddenly feel very lucky to incorporated into that schedule. Marina must feel like the conversation needs something to build on because she adds, "But I used to skate a lot."
"Figure skate?" Mom asks, seemingly astonished. "Oh wow, isn't that spectacular."
Marina seems only a little surprised at Mom's enthusiasm for the topic, masking it with a polite smile, which I think holds a little amusement.
"Marina actually taught me to skate." I say. I had hoped to direct some of the attention away from Marina, but it seems that it backfired when Mom's eyebrows shoot up in peeked interest.
"I hope he was a good student." She says.
"Oh yeah, he was good. My qualifications as a teacher are questionable though." Marina jokes. The comment earns a laugh from Mom and a brief chuckle from Dad.
"So, he knows how to skate now?" He asks.
"Well..." she glances at me. "Not exactly. But he's getting there."
"Good to know he's getting somewhere." Dad jokes. Mom swats his arm with a tut before going back to the conversation with her previous enthusiasm, folding her hands over her untouched food. I look at Dad and raise my eyebrows smugly at Mom coming to my defence. He sticks his tongue out at me.
"So, Joey told us you tutored him in french too." Mom continues. "Are you fluent?"
"Oh, no. Far from it, but I would like to be someday." Marina replies, skillfully steering away from the topic of my cluelessness of the language.
"Speaking of someday..." Mom starts, finally picking up some food with her fork, though she doesn't eat it yet. "Do you have any idea of what you want to do in the future?"
And there it is, the pressure question of the evening. I knew it would come out at some point, I just didn't think it would be before Mom even ate any of her food.
"I'm not really sure yet, but I have applied online to the university here for general education courses." Marina answers.
"Didn't you say you were considering med school?" I ask, hoping to help her out in the conversation. Her smile fades a little and she shrugs.
"Well, I don't know about that. Med school is pretty expensive, Joseph." She chuckles through the sentence so her disappointment is hardly audible, but I hear it. I don't really know what to say to it. There's no disputing that med school isn't cheap.
"Oh, there's lots of options, honey." Mom jumps in, always the optimist. "There are scholarships available for academics, and even other ones that most people don't even think to apply for. Student loans are always an option as well, and I'm sure your parents have some money saved up too." She finishes and finally puts a piece of food in her mouth, though it's so small she could probably continue talking immediately after.
"You'll have to forgive her for her enthusiasm, her guidance counsellor is coming out." Dad apologizes, his meal already halfway gone due to Mom carrying most of the conversation.
"No, it's great actually. I'd actually like to talk about that some time, if you don't mind." Marina replies. I don't even think she knows how good she's looking right now in the eyes of my parents. Mom beams.
"Oh, honey, I would love to! It's so refreshing for a young person to have a plan." Mom says, looking at pointedly, as I'm undecided at the moment. I look down at my food but see Marina glance at me out of the corner of my eye, her lips pressed together to hide a smile. She knew what that look meant.
"So, what school do do you work at?" Marina refocuses the conversation, much to my appreciation. Mom launches into an unnecessarily exciting description of her job and Marina nods along, commenting occasionally.
As I watch Marina talk with my parents, I'm amazed at the ease she's handling everything. Her responses are fast but thought through, and her eyes are intent, interested. I know she can't be finding my parent's careers anymore interesting than I find them, but she's sure doing a good looking like it. Even the clothes she's wearing is perfect, kind of casual but not too casual, not that I'd know the difference anyway. All I know is that it shouldn't be possible for someone to look so good in jeans. And I had no idea an unbuttoned plaid shirt could look classy if you just put it over a white tank top. Her sense of style is undeniable. I'm starting to think she was just made for people to like her.
After supper Marina helps Mom clean up. Even though Mom protests the action the entire time, I can tell she's impressed. I can also gauge Dad's high level of approval by the raised eyebrows and thumbs up he keeps shooting me from across the table. I had no doubt they'd like her anyway.
We head into the living room afterwards for tea and more conversation, until Mom decides that it's absolutely imperative that she go to the store tonight, and that it's also a two man job. She gives Marina the option to stay, and I'm glad when she takes it. She thanks my parents again before they leave, and I push myself off the rail that overlooks the porch when the door closes, turning to her.
"So, now that we've got the house to ourselves..." I trail off suggestively and waggle my eyebrows at her. "Wanna watch a movie?" I walk backwards into the living room, grinning as she breathes out a laugh.
"You know, for a second it sounded like you were implying something else." She raises her eyebrows warningly as she follows me into the living room, still with that relaxed smile on her face.
"I would never. As you said yourself, I am a gentlemen." I take a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure I haven't veered off course, turning back almost immediately after being assured that my path is hazard free. After all, the image in front of me isn't something I want to spend too much time looking away from.
"I did say that, didn't I?" She muses, humour in her eyes.
"Indeed you did, Your Majesty." I wink at her and realize I've reached the couch that faces the TV. I sit down and rest my arm on top of the back cushions, not missing the way her eyes dart down to the empty space on the cushion below. During the advancement of our newly formed relationship, it's become clear that Marina is hesitant to initiate much of the interaction between the two of us. I'm pretty sure she thinks she'll do something wrong if I don't encourage the action first. To combat this, I have developed the strategy to make my cues painfully obvious, sometimes to the point of embarrassment. And even then she's still apprehensive.
Fortunately, tonight she's deemed the very casual placement of my arm as enough evidence to support my objective. She still seems unsure when she takes a seat but loosens up when I drop my arm over her shoulders and gently pull her closer. Despite my heart skipping a beat at the close proximity, what can only be described as a goofy grin is still on my face. Yeah, I could get used to this.
"So, what kind of movie do you want to watch?" I ask. I pick up the remote off the side table as Marina shrugs.
"It doesn't matter." She says.
"Well, it is Halloween." I point out, clicking the Netflix app on the TV. "Perhaps a horror movie is in order?"
She's silent for a second before saying, "I don't care."
The gears in my mind start turning. According to Dad, the sentence 'I don't care' coming from a woman means a definite no. Is it too stereotypical to say that piece of advice is true for Marina too? The silence before the statement, coupled with the fact that she's too polite to say flat out 'no' to a suggestion makes a pretty good case in my opinion.
"I mean, just because it's Halloween doesn't mean we have to watch a horror movie." I backtrack hesitantly. She just shrugs again, which does nothing to ease my dilemma. "I'm not too fond of them anyway. Too predicable" I try.
Marina nods and lets out a breath. "Okay good. I don't really like them either, but I would have watched one if you wanted to."
I'll have to make it a point to thank Dad for his wisdom later, but right now I just scroll though the movies on the TV, too shocked he was actually right to make up another lie about my dislike of the horror genre. I honestly couldn't care less about what we watch. Being in my current predicament, I doubt I'll be paying much attention to the movie anyway.
"You were a natural, by the way. Dealing with my parents I mean." I say.
"It actually wasn't bad. You're parents are pretty awesome."
My eyebrows shoot up and I glance down at her at the same time she looks up, probably expecting the reaction. "You don't have to lie."
"I'm not lying." She insists. "I've been dealing with stiff adult conversation my entire life. Trust me, your parents are great."
"Your entire life?" I repeat, ignoring her compliments about my parents. "Who are these people intent on bringing misery into your days?" I state theatrically. She chuckles and I don't know if it's because of my question or her answer to it.
"My Aunts." She says. I arch an eyebrow and she elaborates. "My mother has two sisters, and they're both nuns. Not that there's anything wrong with nuns or anything but they're..." she seems to struggle for a second, stuck on something to say that's not too offensive, "stuck in their ways." She finishes.
"Like how?" I ask, continuing my scroll through the TV as my search for an appropriate genre has yet to yield any results. A romance seems too sappy, and I'll take a wild guess and say an action movie is out of the question.
"They just have really strict rules." She explains. "Like we're not allowed to run in the house, they get mad when we go on our phones, their houses have dress codes, and we have to call them 'sister' instead of 'aunt'."
"Okay, that last one is really weird." I admit. She shrugs.
"It's their official titles in the convent I guess." She replies. She seems indifferent about the whole thing, whereas I'm finding it hard to conceal my shock. Being with the family in my life has only ever been a comfortable feeling. I find it hard to imagine being a guest in someone's house and feeling like you're walking on eggshells.
"I'll tell you what. Next time you're over there, let me know and I'll text you with a fake emergency so you can escape."
"No phones, remember?" She reminds me. I just shrug, determined to remain undeterred.
"It's okay. We'll be sneaky. Like in 'Oceans Eleven'." I say. For second, I fear she won't get the reference, but she laughs, a soft vibration against my side.
"You know, I think getting me out would actually require a higher level of planning." She jokes, displaying her knowledge of the film. Huh, maybe I shouldn't have flicked past that action movie section.
"Nonsense." I wave off her hope-lacking remark easily. "It'll be great and we'll free Ella too. Mark my words, Your Highness." I summon as much confidence into the statement as I can, a grin stretching across my face at the thought of successfully bailing Ella and her out of the situation.
Her quiet chuckle and shaking head make me look down. "You are painfully optimistic. You know that?" She accuses lightly.
It's true. Finding a bright side in any situation has never really been an issue for me. And right now, I wonder how I could ever see something so dull as to give up on finding a lighter note. Things are just going so incredibly right at the moment. Specifically this moment, with Marina by my side, just the two of us. If there was ever a time for an abundance of optimism, now would be it.
"Yes, I do know." I say in response, a relaxed grin on my face that communicates I'm not one bit ashamed of it. "I don't have a reason not to be. Rom-com?"
"Hm?" Her eyebrows knit in confusion at the unexpected addition to the sentence. Her thoughtful eyes dart to the TV, expression clearing upon noticing the genre on the the screen. "Oh yeah, sure."
We end up watching some Adam Sandler movie that Marina agrees on, "Fifty First Dates". Even though Adam Sandler basically plays the same character in every film, there's no denying that his movies are almost always a solid choice, and this is no exception. It's about a girl who loses her memory and always thinks it's the same day, so she doesn't remember meeting Adam, or whatever person he's playing in this film. Everyday he takes her on a different first date, hence the title. I briefly consider jotting down a few ideas. Aside from having to get up a few times to serve some late trick-or-treaters, we get to watch the movie uninterrupted.
Eventually Marina moves to the other side of the small couch, leaning her elbow on the arm of the sofa and curling her legs up to fit on one cushion. She laughs at my expression of mock offence. "Come on, your arm has to be hurting by now."
"Nope. It went numb about ten minutes ago." I argue matter-of-factly. "But even if it did hurt, I would bear the pain for you, my love." I finish theatrically, extending an arm toward her. She presses her lips together to fight a smile and shoves my leg lightly with her foot, to which I dramatically cry out in pain. "You've wounded me."
"Oh shush." Marina wrinkles her nose at me. The childish action on the usually mature girl makes me laugh, and to my appreciation, a smile lights up her face shortly after.
We keep watching the movie, and I'm honestly more comfortable now that my arm is coming back to life. As feel myself start to grow tired, I suspect the newfound position has something to do with it. I'm still sitting up, but the side of my head leans against a fist I have propped up on the back cushion. Well, it would be a resting place for my head if I didn't feel myself nodding off every few minutes. Knowing that it would be rude to fall asleep while Marina is here, I angle my vision determinedly toward the TV, desperate to ignore the weight in my eyelids. After all, I'm the one who chose this activity and I'll be damned if I let myself doze off.
"Joseph."
I jerk awake at the sound of Marina's voice, probably looking drunk as I stare around the room in confusion with half closed eyes. The movie is still playing on the screen so I can at least take comfort in the fact that I haven't been out for that long.
"Hey, could you run me home now? I'm getting pretty tired." She asks.
"Oh sure." I say a little too quickly, reaching for the remote and turning off the TV. I have a feeling she's just saying it for my benefit, but I'm not going to argue.
Despite the relatively nice day we had, it's a foggy night, and I can feel the dampness in the air when I step outside. Even though I put a jacket on before coming out, my shoulders scrunch up and I shove my hands in my pockets.
"It's cold." I comment.
"You're always cold." Marina says, not seeming affected by the temperature.
"I have a right! It's like, freezing right now."
"It's seven degrees." She corrects, a light smile on her face as she looks at me from across the car.
"You know, you're being awfully smart for a person who said they were tired." I arch a suspicious eyebrow at her, leaning an elbow on the edge of the car. She shoots back the same expression with what I think is supposed to be a smirk, but the cocky expression doesn't fit on her face. It ends up more adorable than anything.
"I'm not the one who fell asleep." She counters.
"Ah, but did I say I was tired?" I ask, holding up a finger as though I'm making a valuable point.
"You're acting as though not saying it makes it untrue."
I look at her for a second over the roof of the car. "Your majesty," I say. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, that damn cute expression still on her face. "Get in the car."
I pull the slightly damp handle on the drivers side door and hear her laugh as I get in. I start up the car quickly because yes, I am still cold and refuse to wait a moment longer than necessary without heat.
"It was a good movie, by the way." Marina says as I pull the car out of the driveway.
"I have been known to pick a great movies from time to time." I agree, even though I only saw a bit of it.
"Known by who?" She asks.
"Myself obviously." I continue down the now dark street, able to the see the fog clearly in the headlights. The only time I've ever brought Marina home has been from the school and once from the skating rink, but I know I won't have any trouble finding her house. I've already been there multiple times after all. I hit an intersection and turn on my left blinker.
"You have to go right." Marina informs. I quickly flip the blinker switch the other way.
"I knew that. I was just seeing if you knew, that's all." I reply, obviously joking, though a little worried that I couldn't figure out how to backtrack from the route I took to get here.
"I thought you would have known where my house is by now." Marina teases, basically reading my thoughts.
"I though so too." I admit with a chuckle. "But nothing is wrong with a good adventure."
"Something could be wrong if this adventure took us past midnight." She points out. She's joking too but the words are right. Where we live, having your license for under a year means you're not allowed to drive from 12am-5am unless you have proof you need to be somewhere. I've never really taken the rule too seriously.
"I usually take that as more of a suggestion." I say, shrugging. "I mean everyone does it."
"Well, not everyone."
I raise an eyebrow and glance at her. "You've never driven past twelve." I say skeptically.
She laughs a little and shakes her head. "What reason would I even have for being out past twelve? Really."
"Well, I don't know." I shrug again, this time narrowing my eyes slightly at her. "Maybe to go to some wild party. Some clubbing perhaps?" I continue.
"No, I'm not a criminal like you." She says accusingly. I gasp quietly. "Driving past midnight. Despicable. And here I thought you were nice." She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows at me, not exactly looking the definition of serious with the smile tugging at her lips. I force myself to look solemn and nod.
"You're right. The nice-guy act was just a ploy to get you." I turn the wheel to account for a heavy curve in the road and continue on. "It just, my criminal past isn't really first date material you know?"
Marina lets out a small laugh, looking out her window and shaking her head. "Yes, I can imagine."
When I pull into Marina's driveway, it's 11:30. Still plenty of time to get home before my so-called deadline, and also plenty of time for Mom and Dad to be back. I stop and Marina reaches for the handle to open the door, stopping when I put a hand on her arm to stop her.
When she looks in my direction I lean across the console and press my lips to hers, quicker than either of us can say anything. We've kissed a good few times by now, but I'm far from used to the feeling. It's exhilarating, an adrenaline rush, like a high-speed chase or falling from the sky. My heart beats faster, my mind becomes blank and suddenly there's nothing else, only this moment. I suspect it's a sensation I'll never get used to, but I don't mind. It's incomparable.
When we pull away, I'm already smiling a tad too hard for my liking, and staring a bit too intently, but I can't help it. It's her eyes. The spark in them when she smiles, the warm colour, like coming inside after a day in the cold. It's just amazing and captivating and god I've seriously got to stop staring.
"Alright," I put a another quick kiss on her head before leaning back over to my side. Her cheeks are flushed, but I bet mine are too. "Be safe getting in."
She laughs a little and raises her eyebrows, her former surprised expression transformed into an amused one in a matter of seconds. "You mean, be safe getting to my door that's twenty feet away?" She grabs the handle of the door and opens it, putting a foot out onto the ground.
"Yes, that's actually exactly what I mean." I reply seriously.
Now outside the car, she leans down so she can still see inside. "Thanks again, for supper and everything else."
"No, thank you for coming." I reply. She chuckles, the corner of her mouth tilted into a smile.
"Alright, see you, Joseph."
It's always either 'Joe' or 'Joey' when people refer to me. Marina is the only one that says my full name all the time. It's nice. I smile.
"Catch you later, Sea Girl."
Riley
The convenience store is a pretty empty place on Halloween night. Kids and their parents are too busy roaming crowded subdivision streets tonight to stop into the store for anything more than a candy shortage crisis. There isn't even anyone to be seen for a mile from here, as the store is located on the side of a main road, hardly a safe place to efficiently hunt for candy.
I don't mind the emptiness really, though the idle nature of a quiet shop is less than ideal, especially with nobody else working tonight to talk to. I stand at the counter alone, staring out the door and onto the quickly darkening street, hoping for a car to pull into the tight parking lot. My eyes constantly dart around for something to do as I lean my elbows on the front counter, absentmindedly kicking the floor with the toe of my shoe as I submit myself to my fate of boredom.
Restlessness has always been a trait of mine. A quality shared by my father, but despised by my mother. She was often the one who was left to deal with my knack for activity, wether it was sweeping up fragments from something I tipped over, or feverishly cleaning up the aftermath of a spilled drink. Considering she was far from a patient woman, it's imaginable that these incidents were not ideal. I thought I would grow out of it eventually, but it hasn't happened. Though I'm proud to say that not as many things get broken in my presence anymore, so I guess I've improved somewhat.
With no warning, a click sounds through the store, sharp and quick. The lights shut off, leaving me in almost complete darkness. The steady hum of the fridges that my ears have become accustomed to cuts out too, instead a ringing replaces the sound, drawn in my ears by the sudden silence. Other than the fact that my sight is now impaired, I'm not too worried. The breaker has been tripping in the store recently, but usually the manager is here to flip the switch, solving the problem for the short term. She's never called anyone in to take a look at it though, which is a little concerning. I was told not to fool with it if it happened again, and call the owner.
Taking my phone out of my pocket and turning on the flash light, I start making my way the the back room where the breaker panel is located behind a door in the wall. I'm not an electrician or anything so I doubt I'll be able to fix anything, but it doesn't make me any less curious as to what's going on.
I get to the panel and open it up, immediately realizing that I have no idea what I'm looking at. I do however notice that it's a bit cloudy in the box, and the smell tells me it's smoke. Now I'm no electrician, but I'm pretty good at picking up patterns, even in a breaker box as old and messy as this one. It probably needs to be updated. Patterns in this panel box tell me a short section of a black and shiny wire should not be touching. Actually, a bit of the black wire seems to be eroding away from the contact, or rather, burning away from the contact. Realizing this, I obviously proceed by doing the least logical thing imaginable. I stick my hand in it.
A feeling like a hot blade erupts in my fingertips and I yank my hand out with a hiss. "Okay, that was stupid." I mutter, nodding as I acknowledge my own cluelessness. I don't think wires are supposed to be this hot. Though I'm not going to give up after just finding the source of the problem.
Finding nothing in the room to use as a tool, I pull a bobby pin out of my hair and stick it between the two wires, hoping to somehow jimmy them apart. It takes a little bit of careful maneuvering, but I manage to get the wires apart, still not completely certain if I'm going to mess up the entire system or not. I feel a spike of nerves as I put my hand on the breaker switch, and have to count to three before I can convince myself to finally flip it. I cringe away from the panel as the breaker flips back up.
The lights switch on.
I can't stop a laugh of both surprise and relief. The first because it actually worked, the latter because nothing exploded in the process. Common sense tells me that the lights probably would have switched back on regardless of my intervention with the wires, but I can't help but feel a weird sense of pride as I shut the panel door and make my way out of the room.
In fact, I'm so proud of myself that I fail to notice the shelf in front of me, trying to swerve out of the way at the last second. I know I didn't fully avoid it when I stumble to a stop, closing my eyes with an exasperated sigh as I hear a couple bags of chips hit the floor behind me. I suppose it would have been too much to ask for a dignified exit. Oh well, gracefulness has never been my strong suit anyway. At least nobody was here to see it.
"Don't worry, I'll get that for you."
Scratch that, somebody is definitely in the store. More specifically, a man standing right behind me. I turn around calmly, trying to salvage any charade of dignity I have left, which isn't saying much. He's bent down, picking up two packs of chips from the floor. I know who it is right away, even without seeing his face.
"I believe these are yours, m'lady." Stanley stands back up with the bags in his hand, holding them out for me to take. Of course, his signature smirk is ever present on his face.
"How did you get in here?" I wonder out loud. He quirks an eyebrow at me and I rush to amend the slightly blunt statement. "Without me knowing, I mean. How did you you get in here without me knowing? There's a uh-" I gesture to the front of the store without looking and take the bags from his hands, leaning down to put them back in their previous positions. "There's a sensor that rings when the door is opened so I should have heard if someone came in, as in, I should have heard that you came in." I stand back up as I finish my unnecessarily long explanation. My hands are now free, though I have no idea what to do with them. I settle for scratching the back of my neck.
"Well, it was dark when I came in. Was the power out or something?"
Right. I suppose it was my surprise of seeing him here that led to my sudden forgetfulness. After all, I've seen his house, and his lifestyle is far above needing to shop at a multi-decade old convenience store. I honestly wouldn't be too surprised if he got his groceries delivered by helicopter or something.
"Right yeah." I look up at the lights as though I just noticed them on. "The power was out. Probably why the sensor didn't work. Because, you know, it runs on power." I don't know why I felt the need to say the last part.
"Yes, thanks for the clarification." He says sarcastically.
I force out a chuckle, starting back down the aisle and hearing his footsteps fall into pace behind me.
"So, the lights coming on..." I look over my shoulder as I continue walking to see him making a lazy gesture to the ceiling with his index finger. "You have anything to do with that?"
"Oh yeah." I turn to look ahead of me again, realizing my feet have wandered my body too close to the shelves during my inattention. I have to cross my right foot over my left during my next step to guide myself back into the middle of the aisle. I would probably shake my head at my apparent inability to walk a straight line if it was new phenomenon for me. Instead, I just keep walking. "The breaker has been tripping so I just went and flipped it."
"You know, usually the breaker trips for a reason." He warns in the form of teasing. "You should probably get that checked."
"I checked it." I defend. I reach the counter and walk around it while Stanley stays respectively on the customers side. "I'm pretty sure one of the wires is stripped and it was touching a black one so-"
"I believe that's called a short circuit." He comments, leaning his elbows on the counter so we're eye level.
"What are you, an electrician?" I tease.
His smile holds more than a hint of smugness. "Are you?" Huh, touché. I don't even try to find a retort and just continue.
"So anyway," I start, ignoring his grin of amusement at my lack of a counter, "I tried to separate them but-"
"You shouldn't do that. Those are really hot." He interrupts.
"Glad you're keeping up." I mutter. I subconsciously flex the burnt fingers on my right hand, which is thankfully now free of a cast. "So I stuck a bobby pin-"
"You stuck a piece of metal in an electrical box. Are you kidding me?"
I groan at his interruptions, though a laugh runs through it to be sure I don't offend him. "First of all; bobby pins are plastic coated, which isn't a conductor. Second; the breaker tripped, so there was no power running through anything. I don't have a dead wish, I can assure you." I raise my eyebrows, amused slightly that he doesn't seem to be able to conjure a retort for that. "May I continue?"
While retorts and witty comebacks may be his strong suit, facts is one of mine, which is something that can't be argued. Sure enough, he shuts up, his only response being the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"So I separated them. I know the wire is still stripped and hot or whatever, but hopefully it'll stop the breaker from tripping until somebody can come in to look at it." I finish finally. Stanley nods. "See? I'm fine, and I could have gotten that out in like two seconds if you didn't keep interrupting me." I complain.
"Well, excuse me for being concerned then." He shrugs. "But I think you're lying. About being fine, I mean."
"Why wouldn't I be fine?"
"You burned your fingers, didn't you?"
He smirks when I curl my hand into a fist to hide my fingertips. "How do you know so much about this anyway?" He doesn't seem to mind me leaving his question unanswered, just shrugging again.
"What can I say? I just know things." He says nonchalantly. I raise an eyebrow skeptically and that smug grin quickly makes its way across his face. "Plus I took the power and energy course in school."
"Power and energy?" I repeat disbelievingly. "Why that course? Aren't you supposed to be a badass or something?"
He rolls his eyes. "I didn't sign up for it, okay? It was just in my schedule when I got it." He pauses. "And by the way, I'm not supposed to be a badass, I am a badass."
He does a casual push-up off the counter to stand up straight again, suddenly looking down at me instead of being face to face. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't even a little attracted to him. That cocky grin, hazel eyes and the perfectly tousled hair. Even having to tilt my head to look up at him is strangely endearing. I'm disappointed at myself for liking him. After all, I've seen the way he flirts around the school, and I've heard classmates gushing over him every chance they get. I get it, he's hot and charming and...
I clear my throat as the word 'sexy' enters my mind, grasping for another topic of conversation. "You did come in here for something I'm guessing?" I ask, glad I found something to say.
"Right, yeah." He says like he forgot. "Ran out of Halloween candy." Well, that would explain his spur of the moment visit into the shop. After all, I've been working here for a couple of years now and he's never walked in once.
"Oh. Well, we only have individual packs here, you can't buy anything in bulk." I explain. "It would have been cheaper to go to walmart or something."
He shrugs. "This was closer and we're kind of in rush."
"And yet you waste time talking to me?" I ask with a chuckle.
"I wouldn't really call it wasting time." He shoots me that handsome smirk again, his tone charming. The playful look in his eyes actually causes my stomach to twist, even though I'm almost certain he's not trying to flirt with me. I'm pretty sure that what everybody else categorizes as flirting, he categorizes as normal interaction. It occurs to me that he may not know how not to flirt.
"Wether it's wasting time or not, you should get home before the kids start forming an angry mob or something." I say. He only scoffs in amusement, the idea apparently laughable.
"I'd like to see them try and get through this." He holds his arm in front of him and flexes his bicep, looking smug.
"I'm sure they'll be intimidated by flexing."
"Well, if it comes to further measures I think it's safe to say that nobody will be getting any candy."
I laugh, leaning my body into my hands, which are rested on the edge of the counter. "With the rate your shopping is going, I doubt they'll get any candy regardless."
"You doubt me? I'll be honest, I'm hurt." Stanley shakes his head in mock offence before taking a step back and looking down at the shelves alongside the counter. He grabs a couple handfuls of chocolate bars and lays them on the counter. "There." He states, like he's done something meaningful.
"You do know that by the time you cut those into enough pieces to feed the subdivision, Halloween will be over."
Stanley groans and I find a grin on my face. "This is so hard." He complains.
"It's not hard."
"Oh yeah? I don't see you doing it."
"Because I'm not the one who needs candy."
"Still."
I laugh a little at his complaining. "Alright, look down at the shelves here." I point at the shelves he just got the chocolate bars off of. "Sour peaches; fifty cents each. Take the whole box." He does and lays them on the counter with his earlier discovery. "Now, the aisle on the left, in the middle, there's some bars for seventy five cents." I say. He nods and starts to walk over. "Take a basket." I remind him.
He turns on his heel and comes back to the basket pile by the door. "I was going to do that." He says, that same handsome grin making an appearance again. I momentarily forget where everything else is in the store until he turns his back.
"So, do you just know where everything in the store is, like, off the top of your head?" He asks after I send him to the back of the shop to look for some no name brands of chips. The store isn't that big, so I can hear him clearly from the front.
"Pretty much." I answer, scanning his many packages of sour candy.
"And I guess you know how much everything costs too." He jokes as I hear the crinkling of chip bags being thrown into his basket. I just shrug and after a pause, his head pops up from the end of the short aisle. "Oh my god, you actually do don't you?"
"Well, I'm sure not everyth-"
"How much is bread?" He interrupts. He seems to do that a lot.
I sigh. "White or whole wheat?"
He makes a game out of it during the next couple of minutes, pointing out items in the store and asking me how much they are. I just continue to scan through the candy as I answer, him laughing every time I get it right. He seems to be easily amused, but then, I guess I am too.
"Wow." He says when he gets up to the counter. "How can somebody so smart put their bare hand into an electrical panel?" He shakes his head and smirks when I sigh.
"Just because I have a good memory doesn't mean I'm smart." I defend. "And, I just wanted to know what was wrong with the power. Is that so bad?" I continue to scan his items through, now moved on from the sour candies to his chips.
"Have you ever heard of 'curiosity killed the cat'?" He teases.
"Have you ever heard the ending to that phrase?" I counter. Stanley's eyebrows furrow and for once, I have the upper hand in our small argument.
"I thought that was the whole thing."
"Nope. The actual phrase is 'curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back'." I say, smiling at his silence. "I'm full of useless facts."
"I wouldn't really call that useless." He shrugs. "Tell me another one."
"Okay, um..." I think for a second, suddenly at a loss for facts now that I've been asked to present one. "The average human has a lower attention span that an ill-attentive goldfish." I say helpfully.
"What? That can't be true." He replies, offended. I chuckle at his frown. "According to who?"
"Uh, science?" I laugh. Stanley shakes his head and clicks his tongue, crossing his arms. "If it makes you feel any better, it's only by a second." I try.
He stares at me with a scrutinizing expression before letting out a huff of air though his nose. "It's a goldfish, so no. It doesn't make me feel better."
"Are you always so personally offended when the topic of aquatic animals arises?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow.
"Only when they have a better attention span than me."
"Seriously? I think eight seconds is still a pretty good attention span." I say, shrugging.
"Not good enough when a fish is ahead of me."
"Well they're probably not ahead of you specifically. We have been on this topic for a while."
He smirks, apparently forgetting his offence from just moments ago. "See, that was supposed to be an insult, but I'll just take the compliment."
I roll my eyes with a laugh and scan in the last item. I feel my eyebrows shoot up when I see total, but then again, he did buy a lot of stuff, exemplified by the mountain of junk food that now sits on the other side of me. "That'll be eighty dollars and fifty-two cents."
I expect him to be confused or at least a little surprised, but he just chuckles and takes a credit card from his back pocket. "Hope those kids are happy." He mutters, though there's a smile on his lips. By the sleek look of the card, it's probably his Dad's, but I wouldn't put it past Stanley to have his own credit card already. Not that it's a bad thing, just not a common thing.
"Would you like a bag?" I joke as he pays. He laughs and takes a glance at the mountain he has accumulated.
"I guess I could juggle them, but a bag would be more efficient."
My eyebrows shoot up as I start packing his belongings into a plastic bag. "Can you seriously juggle?" I ask.
"No, that was actually called sarcasm." His head is tilted to look down at the debit machine, but his eyes are focused on me, a genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I grin at the different expression and his smile widens too.
"You know, I was almost impressed." I sigh dramatically and pass him the first bag, a laugh breaking through when I see his eyebrows shoot up.
"Wow, so I have to be able to juggle to impress you? Tough critic." He removes his card from the machine after it beeps, signalling the end of the transaction. He shoves it back in his back pocket as I start working on a second bag. "You know what? I'm going to learn how to juggle, just for you."
"I'm honoured."
"Oh, you should be." He assures me, taking the second bag when I hand it to him. It looks like I'll only need to pack a couple more, though they're all packed pretty tight. "I don't put much effort into a lot of things, but I promise you that I will do this, if it's the last thing I do."
"You really want to learn how juggle that bad?" I tease.
I shakes his head. "Riley, I could care less about the juggling." He says. My eyebrows pinch together as I finish packing his last bag, holding two over the counter. "This is about impressing you, obviously."
Stanley smirks as he plucks the bags out my hand, turning and heading toward the door while I stare after him, no words coming to mind to bid him farewell. He turns around when he has the door half open, leaning his body onto the handle. "Next time I see you, Miss Pierce, I will know how to juggle, and that's a promise." He winks and walks through the door, leaving my mind oddly blank. Well, damn him.
I wait until I hear the sound of his truck pulling out of the parking lot before I make my way to the back room to restock the shelfs with the products he just took. At least he left me with something to keep me busy.
Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Also, I did research stuff about electricity and breakers, but I'm still not completely confident the situation in this chapter is realistically correct. So sorry if you know how electricity works and I got it completely wrong. And if I did get it wrong and you want to let me know how it actually works, go ahead and PM me so I'll know for future reference :)
Leave a review and tell me how it was :) thanks for reading