The little buzzer to Jean's apartment came to life and she sprang up off of her sofa. She giddily pressed a button on the old scuffed up intercom box on the wall and walked out to the hall. A minute that felt like an eternity later, Scott turned the corner. Jean ran to the end of the hall with all her might and he had to catch her as they collided. They almost tumbled over.
"I can't believe you're here!" She squealed and squeezed her arms around him. She didn't realize how much she missed his goofy grin under the worn baseball cap. They had spent the last few weeks coordinating emailing back and forth his travel arrangements. It was going to be brief trip consisting of only a few short days, but she was thrilled just to have some comforts of back east here in her far corner of the country.
They entered the apartment and she grabbed his backpack from him, setting it down in the quaint living room. The place was small, but she made it cozy and homey. It was hard to believe she had just moved in a couple months ago. It looked like she belonged in the little urban den her whole life. The living room had a red brick wall and the teal sofa popped out against it. She had a pillow and blanket waiting for him on the couch next to her reclaimed wood coffee table. There was a small TV on a wooden stand across the tiny room and a bohemian lightly frayed rug in the center of the room. The far side of the apartment, which was the living was lined in large industrial looking old black windows. Here kitchen was a little open space right by the front door, with a couple appliances snug between a few white cabinets lining the short wall. Scott hadn't seen her outside of their dusty cabins and farmhouse but somehow it felt exactly like he would have expected. It was her own place and every inch of it felt like her. He knew she must be proud and it was well deserved.
Scott peeked his head into the bedroom, another ancient brick room almost the same size as the small main area with two large black windows and a tall ceiling. She had a full-size bed with a white comforter and pillows that looked like clouds jutting out of the corner on an angle. There was a tiny bathroom tucked off of her bedroom. It was odd to walk through the bedroom to get to the bathroom, but they didn't ask for his input when they remodeled the old factory into loft style apartments.
"So, what do you think?" There was a hint of eagerness for approval in her voice. The whole place was probably about 600 sq. ft total, "I know it's small but it's cute, right?" She was chattering at a hundred miles per hour, excited to show off her little den in the city.
"I like it," a smile fixed on his face as he looked around. His response was short but genuine. He liked seeing hints of Jean around the pillbox apartment. He could tell by her twinkling eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners she was pleased with his reaction.
"And this is your awesome fiver-star bed," she motioned to the couch as if she were debuting a grand painting.
He sunk down on the sofa and it swallowed him up. It would most likely be easier on his bones than the old film farmhouse bunk mattresses, "I think I'll manage alright," there was a playful tone to his voice. In another world prior to his second chance, he'd found himself sleeping on the hard ground and shelter cots. He was always thankful to find a place to lay his head but her colorful sofa definitely was at the top of the list.
"No wait, get up," she walked over to the window and heaved it up with a grunt. It groaned in protest, but she was able to lift it enough to slip through to the fire escape. She turned back towards him, speaking through the gap in the opened window, "Follow me!"
He got up and ducked his head under, pushing himself through the window onto the metal structure. He wondered where the unusually sprite woman had taken off to. She was like a kid mid sugar rush, jibber jabbering on and bouncing around like a ping pong. He looked up and caught a flash of red locks nearing the top of the fire escape already a couple floors up. She disappeared over the brick edge on the top and he followed until he was hoisting himself over the top as well. His eyes adjusted and he realized they were on the rooftop. He saw her on the other side of the roof by the brick lip edge. As he walked over, he would see the lights from the city glowing on her face. It wasn't quite evening yet but the thick clouds made it feel later than it was.
"Look, look!" she practically jumped up and down. Her behavior was raw and unrefined like a squirrel bounding from one tree to could tell the move had impacted her in a positive way. Perhaps she had the control of her own narrative in the damp foreign region of the country.
His icy gaze scanned the horizon. Buildings sprang out of the earth like an urban forest. A few blocks deep there was a view of the Puget Sound like she had described in her emails. It was tucked between another plot of buildings on the other side. The water looked peaceful and unaffected by the city buzzing on the brim of its waters.
"This is my first time on a roof top," he admitted, "Alright, it's pretty cool."
She clapped her hands, "Oh my gosh, I love it. I have been dying to show you! I like to study or enjoy my morning tea on the occasional dry day. Sometimes I even write my emails to you from up here if the WiFi is behaving. The water reminds me of the lake," a small bit of nostalgia stung in her trailing words. She didn't have to tell him she was talking about the lake at Camp Xavier. He knew. He felt the same longing for the lake when he spent his year in Arizona.
And even though she hinted at missing life back in the middle of America, he couldn't help but feel she belonged here. She was taking in the city lights but he couldn't take his eyes off of the beaming redhead in her new environment. It was almost weird to see her outside of the camp. However, he had to admit, like the brick building and twinkling lights of the city as the sun was setting, he thought she fit right in.
"Okay," Jean focused her attention back to her visitor, coming back down to earth, "So I was thinking about plans for tonight. We should stop by the coffee shop and you can see where I spend all my time not in class. Then there's a small group of friends getting together tonight if we want to stop by for Black Wednesday. Technically they are Scarlet's friends but I've hung out with them a few times. They seem cool."
"Black Wednesday?"
Jean shrugged, "Yeah, it's like a drinking holiday. The night before Thanksgiving everyone goes out, letting loose before spending the weekend with family. It seemed more relevant in undergrad, now it's just a fun stupid excuse to get together."
Growing up, Scott sometimes wished for a family, or that he would wake up from a bad dream and there would be a maternal face comforting him. He was amused to think that some people actively tried to avoid these people when sometimes his heart ached for them most.
Scott and Jean returned to the flat where they took a few minutes to freshen up. Scott had a full day of travel and threw on a deep red flannel over his khaki's he had arrived in. The clouds were rolling in thick and heavy, so Jean put on a thick cozy beige sweater that felt like a hug wearing it. She slipped on her trusty sneakers and locked up behind them.
They poured out onto the sidewalk, walking side by side in the damp pacific air encompassing them. They chatted about his plane ride as they walked down a few blocks to her workplace. They came upon a teal building with mustard yellow trim and doors. The words, "VICTROLA COFFEE SHOP' were plastered above the windows.
"This is it!" She pointed to the building as they approached, "Isn't it cool looking? I knew it was meant to be, the outside of the building is my favorite color."
"Just like your sofa," he grinned.
"Yes! Exactly!"
The little bell clattered against the glass as they walked in and took a seat by the window tucked up against a rustic brick wall. Jean waved over to some people behind the counter. It looked like the type of place where a cool group of friends would hang out on a tv show or where moody songwriters could be found drafting thick love stricken singles.
A dark-haired woman approached them, "Hey Stranger," her voice was thick with a heavy eastern European accent. She was wearing a black dress with plaid leggings; a maroon apron was secured over her outfit. Everyone working appeared to have the same apron, he assumed it was part of their uniform.
"Scarlet, this is Scott. Scott, Scarlet," They looked at each other knowingly, clearly having heard about one another.
"Is this the boyfriend?" Scarlet nodded to Scott.
Scott's eyes snapped over to Jean's nervously and she was every shade of a ripening tomato, "No," she laughed, "Just my friend from back home." She had mentioned Scott to Scarlet a few times but didn't say much else about her love life to her new gal pal, so perhaps she just assumed. An awkward assumption.
"Whoops!" Scarlet raised her eyebrows and laughed nervously, "Okay, so what can I get you before I made this weirder?" She tapped her pen onto the small pad she was holding.
"I'll take a lavender chai," Jean quickly said, wanting to find a reason for Scarlet to disappear quicker.
Scott's turn, "Black coffee, please."
"The Empire, Triborough, or Streamline espresso blend?" The thick accent rambled back in response.
Scott looked at her as if she were speaking some kind of alien language, "Uh," He had a feeling these were the types of coffee they offered but it sounded more like she rambling off the names of horses in the Derby.
Jean laughed, "Just get him the Triborough blend. He's a simple one."
Scarlett nodded, "Awesome, I'll go get those started."
She disappeared, and Scott turned his attention back to the new city spit-fire, "What did she ask?"
Jean brushed her red full waves behind her shoulder as her face started to return to a normal flesh tone, "We have our own roasts we make here. They smell divine but still can't bring myself to enjoy coffee. The Triborough is probably the best one, well at least that's what the customers seem to order the most. Bold and black. You'd be shocked how picky people get with their coffee out here. Which is good for me, we make pretty good tips surprisingly," She paused her java chatter and took a deep breath with her eyes widening, "I still can't believe you're here." Her face would have split open if it grinned any wider.
"Me too," He studied her face, "You seem really happy here." It was almost unusual to see her so giddy. She had her silly moments at camp but she also took her responsibilities with great pride. She didn't loosen up as easily as some of the other staffers. Was she more chipper all the other months out of the year? His gut told him probably not but he was thankful for whatever in the universe was sparking her spirit.
"Well, I'm happy you're here," she shrugged, "Honestly, it can get a little lonely sometimes."
Her words lingered on his heart, maybe even a little skip in his beat, "You're still getting settled here. I know what it's like to have the days feel like eternities. You've only been here a few months, give it some time. And school has just started. Before you know it, you'll be transformed into this big city girl with a ton of friends and fancy things."
"Ha!" Jean wrinkled her nose, "Never." She perked up, he would have liked to think it was from his encouragement.
Scarlet brought over their hot beverages, steamy wisps swirling up through the mugs that she placed in front of them. "So are we still on for tonight?" Jean gently blew on her freshly brewed tea with frothy milk while looking up at Scarlet.
The dark-haired woman put a hand on her hip. She was all curves from her long dark waves and full lips to her hourglass figure that the apron hugged. Every movement she made felt intentional and somewhat seducing, "There's this awesome bar called 'Shorty's' and its Coney Island themed with good drink specials and pinball. I let some people know, so I'm sure at least a few of them will show up. We are closing up a little early tonight with the holiday, so I think I will be there around eight or nine."
Jean glanced at her watch, 6:47 pm.
"Perfect, we are gonna go grab some grub and we will meet you over there later."
Over the next couple of hours, they walked around the city streets and stopped for some burgers and fries. It was one of the first meals Scott had eaten out at a restaurant since as far back as he could remember. Typically, he just ate whatever Remy was crafting in the kitchen and he blocked out his dining options before that. The greasy burger with crisp edges and a toasted bun tasted heavenly with the thick cut fries.
It drizzled on and off bringing a brisk chill to the air. Seattle was really living up to its expectation and stereotype. They found themselves walking into the lively bar that had bright colors and neon signs on the outside the sleepy wet street. The inside was just as lively with bodies packed almost up to the door. Loud music beat above the loud cramped crowd.
"Let's check out the back," Jean yelled to Scott. It wasn't a large place, but big enough to have to snake through the crowd in order to find the rest of their group. Jean caught a glimpse of Scarlet and pushed through the bodies with Scott in tow. There was Scarlet with a couple other women and two guys in the space between the pinball machines and jukebox. Scott couldn't hear the introductions over the music, but he caught that the one guy's name was Vince. He appeared to be with Scarlet by the way he had his arm looped around her body, pulling her close like a balloon that he was afraid would float away if he let go. Scarlet was wearing a bare shoulder top and Scott noticed a few tattoos that displayed themselves around her shoulder.
It wasn't his typical environment, but he enjoyed watching the redhead in her new life. It was such a different crowd than the young faces of camp. They had to shout to each other in the circle, but he kept up with the conversation, not being overly talkative but also not being a quiet hermit. He caught himself in conversation with one of the guys and one of the new women in the group, it was easier to narrow in and chat with a few people from the deafening speakers that weren't too far from them.
A collective nostalgic scream was heard across the bar as a well known boy band song came on. Jean and Scarlet joined in and lost themselves to the memories in the music as they dramatically flailed their bodies to the beat. Their drinks sloshed around in the pint glasses as they wobbled around. All the guys in the bar were rolling their eyes and encouraging their wild counterparts.
The song ended, and Jean could feel her hair starting to cling to the edges of her forehead where she worked up a sweat between the dance moves and suffocating body heat in the small bar. She excused herself to the bathroom and weaved her way through the back.
Jean pushed through the swinging red door covered in various stickers to the women's bathroom. She saw the two women who were Scarlet's friends standing in front of the mirror. The one woman with jet black hair, Stephanie, was applying a fresh coat of red liquid to her lips and making satisfying puckering pops. Jean had met them out a couple of times when she met up with Scarlet.
"Oh my god, your boyfriend is adorable," The other woman said while pushing her boobs up from the low-cut shirt she was wearing. She was a short blonde with curly hair that looked crunchy like a pack of uncooked instant noodles.
Jean grabbed a paper towel and dabbed her forehead, joining the other two women, "Oh no, he's not my boyfriend. Just friend."
The two women's eyes grew, and Jean caught them glancing at each other in the reflection of the mirror, "Oh? Does he know that?"
Jean shifted her weight and turned to face them, "What do you mean?"
The raven-haired woman shrugged, "He's been enamored with you all night. Seemed pretty obvious to me. How do you know him?"
Jean bit at her lower lip, she'd caught his gaze from across the little group since they arrived but didn't seem that out of the ordinary or weird. She caught herself giving a double take a few times at him tonight as well, but she chalked it up to the beer influencing her brain.
"I know him from college," she lied. It was honestly just an easy innocent fib. Explaining the whole camp thing buzzed in the dark bathroom with the two acquaintances seemed like a nuisance, "He's in town visiting from back home."
The short blonde smiled, "Well shit, had I known that earlier I would have been all over that can of man meat."
Man meat. Jean smirked at the nicknames he was racking up.
The three of them left the bathroom together and rejoined the group. Scott had two beers in hand and handed one to Jean.
"It looked like you were empty," he leaned in and spoke up in her ear.
She nodded and happily accepted the fresh pour. Her eyes caught with his and she wondered if there was any truth to the nonsense the women were babbling in the bathroom. Suddenly the two other women were on both sides of him, interrupting her thoughts. They both seemed to be firing up some small talk. They were clearly motivated by the new information about him being single and fought for his attention. The blonde was a little more determined and pulled Scott away for a game of pinball.
Jean watched them settle on a machine about ten feet away, just barely able to see them between the moving bodies in the bar. She saw him put in a few quarters and the machine burst into life with flashing lights and graphics. The blonde was just as animated as the machine, clapping when he scored and giving pouty faces when she was losing. They played again and the second time she started becoming a little bolder, resting her hand on his arm and leaning into him as the little ball shot around the inside of the glass. This made Jean's chest panic like the little flippers in the game, bouncing wildly and desperate. What was the matter with her?
"Well that's a wrap for me tonight. I've got to drive to my folks pretty early tomorrow," Scarlet's voice broke attention and brought it back to the group. Jean hadn't noticed the dark haired woman and other guy had left, probably headed home as well. Vince was nibbling on Scarlet's neck. He was always touching her in some way, as if he were intoxicated with her. Jean could tell her friend liked the attention and always ended up going home with him. She was pretty sure they had been dating on and off for the past couple of years based off of the context of how Scarlet talked about him. Or maybe he was just a reliable hookup. She wasn't an expert on these things and never gave it too much thought.
She glanced down at her watch to see the time, but her watch was gone. Her eyes darted around the floor, unable to see in the scuffle of dark shoes.
"Everything okay?" Scarlet looked at Jean's frantic face.
"Yeah," Jean shouted and rubbed her wrist, "Just think I dropped my watch. You guys get home safe, I'll see you at work this weekend."
Vince snaked his arm around Scarlet and the two disappeared in the fading crowd stumbling and giggling.
"Where'd everyone go?" Scott walked back up to their spot, finding only Jean alone finishing her drink. The short blonde was trying to stand as close to possible to his sturdy frame, teetering on her heels.
"Home," Jean set her empty glass on the wooden ledge on the wall, "It's late, we should probably get going too."
The blonde finished her pink vodka drink and nodded in agreement. The three of them made their way to the front of the bar. A few people mingled outside on the sidewalk smoking their cigarettes and deciding which bar they would hop to next. There were a few taxis lined up on the curb, waiting in anticipation to escort the bar patrons home.
"I think we are walking distance. Can I get you a cab?" Scott asked the blonde who looked a little disappointed of his departure but agreed. Scott opened the door of the nearest taxi and gave the driver a $20 bill to get her home. Jean couldn't hear what he was saying to the blonde as she scooted into the cab, but a moment later Scott rejoined her, the yellow taxi pulling out into the road.
"Scottie the hottie," Jean teased drunkenly as they started down the sidewalk together.
Scott rolled his eyes in response, "Oh stop."
"Someone likes you," she continued to tease as they bumped bodies lightly walking down the wet cement. The sky sputtered out a light drizzle on them in the dark.
"You're annoying." Scott shook his head and playfully shoved her lightly, "And a bad dancer," he changed the conversation.
"Me?" Jean shot him a quizzical look as they turned down another street.
"I saw you busting your moves to those boy band songs."
Jean stopped in the sidewalk and started swaying to a silent beat, "Oh these moves?"
Scott watched the redhead rock her hips back and forth, her humidity induced frizzy red hair swayed along. A laugh built inside of him and finally came out in a deep hearty way that shook his whole body. Seeing her silly side always entertained him.
Jean's exaggerated dance moves caught momentum and she stumbled back. Scott reached out and grabbed her, "Let's get home before anyone sees us, you're an embarrassment." His words were light and playful. He grabbed her hand to steady her and they walked together for a few more blocks.
Jean grabbed on to his arm to balance herself for the walk home, perhaps she had one too many beers and was starting to feel the sidewalk spin. She looked up at him while they walked and studied his features from the dim street lights that protruded out of the pavement. Once again, she was stumbling around in the dark and her trusty friend was right by her side, guiding her home. She was glad to be alone with him again, ditching the clingy blonde. The pinball flipper feeling inside of her went off again.
Jealousy.
No, it couldn't be. Could it?
"Good morning, sleepy head."
Scott squinted as he attempted to open his eyes, the sun hitting him straight in the face and igniting his blue eyes. He adjusted his focus and saw Jean standing over him in her t-shirt and sleeping shorts. She was holding a fresh cup of coffee.
"This is for you," she set it down on the coffee table next to him.
Scott sat up, he had passed out on the sofa the night before under a sheet. He had managed to change into some sweatpants but must have fallen asleep before finding a t-shirt. The end of the night was a little bit of a blur. He could feel Jean's emerald eyes scanning his bare chest. He thought he saw her blushing, but it could have just been the sun in his eyes.
"Feeling okay?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen, apparently she was in the middle of something already, "It's almost noon."
Scott pushed himself up to a sitting position, "Jesus, I slept like a log." They probably made it in around 2 a.m.
"I got up not too long ago," She was wearing a thigh length green sweater dress and her hair was styled. She looked vibrant and fresh, he wondered what had her so peppy after their late-night drinking. Then he remembered it was Thanksgiving Day, an occasion that was worth dressing up for. He was thankful he brought a nicer sweater, not sure what they would be doing for the holiday.
"I am going to attempt to make us a real meal," Jean beamed while peeling potatoes, "Attempt is the key word."
He had never seen her cook anything before, not that he had the chance since Remy made all their meals at the camp and this was the first time he'd seen her outside of their wooded camp. He grabbed the coffee cup and welcomed the hot liquid that slowly brought him back to life. Memories of the night before flashed through his mind, they had made it back to her apartment and shared a cold piece of pizza before deciding they were toast and departing to their own respective places for bed.
"Can I help with anything?" He got up and stretched, his skin moved over the muscles in his back and abs. This time he could tell Jean was turning different shades of red and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Surely, she'd seen her fair share of men. She probably had swarms of eligible bachelors knocking down her door.
She quickly glanced back down at the potato peeler in her hand, "Nope. Just finishing some prep stuff. I put a towel on my bed if you want to use my room to get ready. The water pressure isn't fantastic here but other than that, the shower works fine."
Scott nodded and took her offer, grabbing his backpack he headed into her room, shutting the door behind him. He went over to the little bathroom, making sure to grab the towel before heading in. The hot water cranked on and steam quickly filled the little box of a room, with just enough space for a standing shower, toilet, and stand-alone sink. He stepped into the shower and relished in the feeling of the hot water waking him up. It was a nice change from the old rickety shower in the farmhouse.
He finished his shower and dried off with the soft towel, definitely nicer than the old starchy ones at the camp that practically scraped his skin when he used them. He threw on a beige pullover sweater over a clean pair of jeans. He thought he looked festive enough. He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it out so it would dry somewhat pleasant, opting to skip his baseball hat.
Scott emerged through the bedroom door to see the amber haired beauty untangling a string of lights from a cardboard box on the coffee table.
"Well you clean up pretty nice," she flashed him a glistening smile, "I picked up these lights from the resale shop I found the sofa at. I thought they would be fun to hang up and get into the holiday spirit."
"I can help," he walked over and grabbed the other end of the tangled mess. He'd never put up holiday lights before but it didn't seem like rocket science. He'd tackled bigger messes than this.
They were able to work out the long strand of lights and Scott stood on a chair as he hung them over the top panes of her window. There was music coming from the radio in the kitchen that played along softly as they each worked, Scott on the lights and Jean in the kitchen. The sky was robust with large puffy gray clouds. Little raindrops kissed the outside of the window and sparkled when he plugged in the lights that gave off a soft multi colored twinkle.
"They're perfect!" Jean rejoiced from the kitchen. She had put on a gray apron at some point while prepping.
Scott walked over and joined her in the kitchen, she had a pot of potatoes boiling and something that wonderful smelling was coming from the oven. He couldn't recall the last time he had a home cooked holiday meal like this. At Camp Magneto, they provided a big meal to the staff, but this wasn't in a big lodge or kitchen. He liked the intimacy of the small apartment and could see why people got excited over the holidays for once. His insides felt warm and cozy.
Jean grabbed a chilled bottle of white wine out of the small fridge and kicked the door shut with her heel. She handed him the bottle and a wine opener, motioning towards the glasses she had set out on the counter. He took the bottle in his hands and stared down at the opener, not being able to remember if he'd ever used one before. He studied the tool for a moment then managed to get the screw into the cork. He pulled up with a forceful tug and the cork released with a pop.
Jean slipped around his, brushing him lightly as she continued her work in the kitchen. Scott poured them each a half glass and she paused to pick hers up by the dainty stem.
"Cheers," she smiled, and their glasses clinked lightly.
"It smells amazing," Scott said, "Are you sure I can't help with anything in here?"
Jean shook her head after taking a cool sip of the wine, "You earned your keep with those lights. I didn't go over the top or anything. Just some turkey, potatoes, and cranberries."
He watched her blend the potatoes with a mixer and pull out a perfectly roasted turkey breast from the oven. He assumed she opted out of a full bird since it was just the two of them. He took that as a cue that their dinner was almost ready, and he rummaged through the cabinets and drawers, setting the little two-person table. He grabbed the candle off the coffee table and put it in the middle of the table for two. He found a lighter sitting on the counter and brought the little wick to life as he lit it.
"Oh, look at this fancy display," Jean walked over and set the turkey on the small table. Scott grabbed the cranberries and brought them over from the kitchen a few feet away. The tabletop was quickly becoming crowded with dishes. He went back to grab their wine glasses and set them down near their plates.
"Take a seat, I'll grab the potatoes and we can feast!" Jean retreated back to the counter and Scott sat on the wooden stools tucked under the table.
The sound of shattering glass filled the room and Scott jumped out of his seat, seeing Jean standing wide eyed in the kitchen. Potatoes had splattered the room and large shards of glass were scattered across the floor.
"No!" She yelled, and tears welled up in her eyes, "shit!"
Scott saw that she was okay, the bowl of potatoes were the only victim, apparently she had dropped them.
"It's okay!" He quickly walked over and stooped down to pick up some of the large broken chunks of glass. She knelt down and joined him, both of them picking up the mess together.
"I'm such an idiot!" Jean huffed, "Ugh, what a mess!"
Scott looked up at the frazzled woman and laughed, "You're a mess, Jean" he noticed a little piece of potato in her hair and he told her to hold still while he fished it out of her mane.
She started laughing as well, "Yeah, I guess I am." There were little splattered bits that jumped onto her dress, past the apron.
"You go clean yourself up and I'll finish this up."
She sighed and nodded.
Right before walking into the bedroom, Jean stopped in the doorway and turned to see the man picking up her mistake in the kitchen. Even when she was pissed off, he always somehow lightened her mood. Watching him on his knees in her little brick apartment brought a smile to her face. How could she be mad when he was around?
She retreated into the room and peeled off the green dress, so much for trying to look nice.
She glanced in the mirror and rolled her eyes at the little mashed potato fragments that were entwined in her hair. She realized she'd need a full shower to get it all out. She knew he'd be busy for a little bit with the kitchen fiasco so she quickly jumped into the shower trying to focus on not letting her disaster completely ruin the night.
After the shower, she toweled tried her hair as much as possible. She pulled on a pair of black leggings and over sized college crew neck sweatshirt. She wasn't in the mood to dress up again and opted for being more comfortable. Screw it.
"Okay, well dinner is ruined. I'm sorry," she said as she came back out of the bedroom after recollecting herself. But the room was empty. She had only been about twenty minutes. The kitchen was spotless, and the table was cleared. Did he come to his senses and run off?
"Hey," a voice came through the window and made her jump. She whirled around to see him poking his head through, "Ready?"
Jean quirked an eyebrow, "Huh?"
"C'mon," he said and disappeared. She heard his footsteps echoing up the metal fire escape.
What the hell?
She made her way across the room and climbed through the window. She adventured up the fire escape and pulled herself over the ledge at the top. A light breeze whipped through her hair and she could see Scott's body move across the roof against the darkening sky, the sun was just about to dip below the horizon as it cast a warm hazy glow through the thinning clouds. The city lights twinkled as they came to life.
She walked across the roof near where she had first showed him the view the night before. There he was plopped down on top of a blanket with a few candles lit in the middle and their dinner plates.
"I knew you'd be in the room feeling sorry for yourself and thinking about how you ruined the meal," Scott said as he watched Jean kneel down and take a seat on the blanket, "And so, I wanted us to keep having a nice night. I noticed the rain stopped for a bit, so I borrowed some things from the apartment…but I didn't think you'd mind. I'll clean it all up."
Jean felt the air get trapped in her lungs and she looked at the candle lit rooftop holiday picnic. The light from the candle danced along his features and cast shadows in his chestnut breeze tousled hair. The sky around them was sparkling with street lights and glowing windows, most likely families enjoy a full Thanksgiving dinner, potatoes and all. But all she could care less about the kitchen incident, that was far from her mind. The amazing man in front of her brought tears to her eyes.
"I know we don't have potatoes," he started rattling off, not sure if her silence was good or bad, "But look, I cut open the rolls and put some turkey and cranberries in them. I think it's the best damn turkey sandwich I've ever had."
She looked down at the plate and smiled, "Scott, I don't know what to say."
"Say anything," He was holding his own breath now.
"I thought you left," her voice was small.
He scooted a little closer to her, "What?"
"I came out of the bathroom and you were gone. I seriously thought you finally realized I'm a crazy person and took off running," her voiced bubbled into a little nervous laugh.
He reached his hand up and pushed a red locket of hair behind her ear, where the wind had slightly blown it in her face, "Well you are a crazy person, but that's what I love about you."
Love.
Her insides felt like bubble wrap, twisting and popping madly.
"You're incredible," she finally found her voice and grabbed his hand with a squeeze. They locked eyes and a wild spark between them grew in intensity. She couldn't describe the passion that she felt, not like with Logan, but this was different. She didn't lust after him or feel silly and stupid. Being near him always brought her happiness and made her feel on top of the world.
She felt their bodies gravitate towards each other. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek. They grew closer, becoming within a breath of each other. She felt his warm lips radiate as they brushed hers. Her chest raced, and it was one of those moments that was a fraction of a second but felt like a lifetime passing by. He moved his chin upward and planted the sweetest kiss on her forehead. She gently closed her eyes, not what she had anticipated.
She breathed again, and he withdrew to his side of the blanket. Was there something there? Did he want to kiss her like she wanted him to? Did he chicken out or was she looking into things more than she should?
"I brought a blanket for you, I wasn't sure if you'd be cold," he nodded towards a folded blanket a couple feet away.
"You know, since I've moved to Seattle you're really showing your sweet side," Jean said as she grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her. She took a bite of her sandwich, he's right, this is really good.
Scott shrugged and turned to his own food, "Eh. It helps without the distraction," his words trailed off, she felt like he almost didn't mean to say the last part.
"Distraction?"
Scott looked off into the distance, "Logan."
Jean set down her sandwich. It was the last response she expected to hear and almost choked on her bite of food, "What the hell does Logan have to do with any of this?" The bubble wrap feeling deflated.
Scott turned back towards her, "Seriously, Jean?"
"Yeah, serious. What's the deal? I know you two have some issue with each other but that's not my problem."
Scott tried to hold back an amused snort and failed, "Actually, you are the problem."
The redhead's eyes grew in surprise, her full attention on Scott.
"You two do your whole sneaking around thing all summer and Logan has a way of making his territory known. Since we are friends, he doesn't take to that so well for some reason."
"How did you know about that?!" Jean's voice escalated in a wild panicked tone.
"Relax," Scott took another bite of his food, "It wasn't obvious or anything but I'm not an idiot. You're a terrible liar and I know exactly where you were coming from all those nights in the woods. Not to mention anytime I was near you, he would look at me like a death wish. Not really the kind of guy I want to go out of my way to provoke, so I'd rather keep my distance and avoid the whole mess during the summer." Scott paused and then continued, "Besides, who else do you think returned your shoes for you?"
Damn, he knew this whole time. It was him. Logan could care less about his trail of women but Scott tried to keep her secret concealed.
Jean sucked in all the air her lungs could hold and let it out in a big dramatic sigh, "Okay, first off, Logan and I….we were never a thing." Apparently she was going to have to set the story straight now that it was all out there.
Scott raised an eyebrow unconvinced.
"No, seriously! I know it's hard to believe and ridiculous but it's complicated. We've never been together, we've never dated…it's really hard to explain but that's all over with," Jean's tone became serious to try and convey to truth to him, she felt she owed him some sort of an explanation.
"It's not really my business."
"I don't want things with Logan to ruin whatever is between us."
Scott looked back into her eyes, "Is there something between us?"
Jean looked down at her hands, suddenly not sure how to answer that. She nibbled on her lower lip. The sound of taxis honking and an airplane above filled the space. She'd had an amazing last twenty four hours. But he lived across the country and they had different things going on in their lives. Was she foolish to chase this feeling or stupid to give up on it?
"I really have no idea," she finally laughed and spoke honestly. She looked back up at him. Regardless of whatever was happening between them she couldn't help but realize how devilishly handsome he was. She could see some hint of hesitancy in his eyes, was he just as confused?
Scott nodded and they both silently agreed that was enough heavy talk for the night. Words only muddled things but just being together and their natural interactions always seemed more organic and comfortable. The idea of potentially exploring something there between them, not closing the door but not opening it fully sent electricity through Jean's veins. Would things change after this subtle conversation or remain the same? Was she caught up in the moment and feeling of having someone familiar in her new city? She tried to sift through the feelings but it felt exhausting.
They finished up their rooftop dining and big raindrops began to crash out of the sky. Jean shrieked and grabbed their plates, heading for the apartment. Scott gathered up the blankets and candles and tried to be just as quick but ended up catching the brunt of a quick door pour. He climbed into the window with his hair clinging to his forehead in damp clusters. Jean was waiting for him on the other side of the black metal window frame grinning ear to ear.
"Holy shit, you're soaked! You were only out there for a minute longer than me," she laughed.
He grabbed his backpack and fished around for dry clothing. He pulled the sweater over his head exposing his torso momentarily before replacing it with a dark gray t-shirt. He plopped down on the couch, catching his breath from the sprint across the roof as Jean messed with her stereo. A few moments later the speakers softly came to life. The acoustic melodies and covers of popular songs playing quietly in the background. Jean turned and swayed her body to the soft tunes while he watched in amusement. She rocked over to the kitchen and refilled their wine glasses before joining him on the couch, letting her body fall next to him. Their legs touched lightly but it felt natural, like putting on his favorite cap.
"What this?" Scott asked about the music, trying to fall back into the moment. Enjoying the last night of their short reunion.
"Boyce Avenue. My favorite cover band," Jean sipped the chilled wine, "What kind of music do you normally like?"
Scott shrugged, "I don't know. A little bit of everything. This is nice right now."
"Such a simple man," she rolled the stem of the glass between her thumb and index finger.
A cover of Everlong by the Foo Fighters started crooning through the speaker, the soft guitar plucking away to the singer,
* Hello, I've waited here for you, Everlong….*
Scott looked up at the woman swaying next to him, relaxed, and faintly twinkling from the strand of lights they hung earlier. He could have stayed in this moment forever.
* …and I wonder…*
She must have been thinking the same because she rest her head on his shoulder and nuzzled into his side with her body, then rest her hand on his thigh. It wasn't sexual or overly provocative, it
was comfortable and familiar. He didn't overthink it and went with what felt right. He put his hand on top of hers and stroked the top of her knuckles with his thumb.
* ….If everything could ever feel this real forever….*
He knew tomorrow he would be stepping back onto the plane that would rip them apart, hurling him halfway across the country back where he closed his eyes and rested his head on top of hers, trying to think about their departure so prematurely.
*…If anything could ever be this good again…*
He looked down at their hands, she turned her palm up and their fingers did a dance with each other. Lightly touching and brushing. He wasn't sure what was brewing between the two of them. He could smell the lavender soap he'd seen in her shower earlier.
"Tell me something about you I don't know," he felt her soft vibrations against his shoulder as she spoke.
He kept his eyes closed and shifted, resting his head gently against the back of the teal sofa, "Hm," He thought for a moment. What could he really tell her? He wasn't exactly a walking storybook and tried to forget most of his past on a daily basis.
"Oh c'mon, you've got to have something," she laughed softly, "I feel like I know everything about you and nothing all at once."
"I know what you mean."
Jean traced the top of his hand, up and down each finger delicately. Her gentle touch was soothing. He couldn't recall a time he'd been close with a woman like this, maybe any human at all. He had a few one-night stands in the past but nothing that ever meant anything to him like this. Nothing this simple and perfect.
"I just feel like there are some big pieces missing," Jean shrugged, "I want to know more."
"There's not a lot you're missing," he could feel her sigh underneath him, "No, really, I'm not trying to be a jerk."
"Look I get it, I hate my home life too," she hesitated, "I mean, I don't know what you went through or anything. And a lot of people don't take me serious when I say I have issues with my parents because of the money…"
"What do you mean?"
"I think people think money can buy happiness. It can't, and it can't buy decent parenting. My whole life I wanted to just be me, but they had other plans for me. Expectations. Bullshit," Jean sat up and took a sip of her wine, "I was so furious when they took my education in their own hands. Throwing their money around like usual. Their whole world is fake. I haven't spoken to them since I left for Seattle, so I get it…"
Scott quirked his head at her implication, "Get what?"
"Well, I've put it together enough that you probably don't speak to your folks. I pay attention to things too, ya know."
Scott nodded and gulped down his wine, trying to keep his hand steady. "You're right, I don't speak to them," he set the glass down. His hand clenched under her touch.
"How come?" Her eyes were big and innocent, pure curiosity swirled in them. He wanted to capture this moment and preserve it. Before she knew anything and could judge him as some broken bum.
He pulled all the air he could through his nostrils and his lungs filled. It wasn't something he really talked about, he hadn't really given much thought to when it would eventually come up. His emotions made him naive. Perhaps he thought the clumsy redhead would be so into her own fast-moving world, she wouldn't have time to stop and see his.
"I don't know them." His voice was straight forward and void of emotion. What else could he say?
Jean's arched eyebrows raised as she was taking a finishing drink of her own wine, "Wh-what?"
He nodded and looked out the window. The raindrops collected in large pools before spilling down across the panes.
"Yeah, told you there's not a lot to know. I bounced around foster care until I was a teen and left the first moment I could."
She appeared to be lost for words, wheels were spinning behind her emerald orbs.
"It's okay," he grabbed her hand quickly trying to center her thoughts.
"Oh my god, Scott, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pried, fuck, I'm so sorry!"
He grinned, "It's fine," he was amused at the fact he was sitting here soothing her over the news.
"No, I am such a…such….God, I am here complaining about my parents and you, don't have any?" She searched his eyes for confirmation and he nodded to her, "It all makes sense."
"I've had twenty-four years to process the whole thing," he smirked, "I'm fine, Jean, I swear!"
"How come you never told me?"
"I didn't think it was important. You don't talk about your thing with your home either."
She nibbled on her lower lip, "Okay, that's fair." She looked down at her watch instinctively, but her wrist was bare, "Ugh. I forgot my stupid watch fell off."
Scott shifted, feeling suddenly aware of their bodies so close, "You lost your watch?" He was thankful for the minor switch in their conversation. Clearly they both had become a little uncomfortable.
Jean pushed herself up off the couch, collecting their wine glasses and bringing them over to the kitchen counter on the other side of the room, "Yeah, at Shorty's, it was old anyways. I'm surprised the band lasted as long as it did," she glanced at the little glowing clock on the stove, "It's late and you've got an early flight tomorrow."
He could take a cue. Scott laid down across the couch, adjusting the pillow beneath him.
"Do you need anything? Hope the couch isn't too uncomfortable," Jean walked over and turned off the music before walking over to the doorway of her room, looking down at him across the sofa.
It was a tad cramped. Almost like wearing a shoe size too small, but nothing he couldn't manage for a couple of nights. "This is great, thanks."
"Goodnight," she smiled at him and disappeared into the darkness of her room.
Scott lay there in the dark, the twinkling lights still showing off their dim colors. He caught the reflection of them in a picture frame hanging on the wall above the couch. He realized there wasn't a picture inside of it, but rather a large red leaf that was pressed into place. She must have saved one of the leaves he had sent her. The thought brought a warmth to his core.
He lay awake, half hazy from the wine and still buzzing from their conversation. He felt the blood push circuits through his system at high speed. Everything was going so perfectly, even with their dinner mishap. His mind wandered to the moment on the roof. He was dying to kiss her, and it felt right, but he hesitated and didn't want to ruin their friendship. Feelings made things messy and they weren't exactly in a position to explore something there while they lived so far apart. Did she feel all of this too? Was he imagining it or were they simply just close friends? The lines of what he felt and what was really happening felt blurred.
But he couldn't deny he felt like their conversation had ended abruptly when she found out about his upbringing. He should have known better. It felt like the shards of glass he cleaned up earlier had made their way into his gut, thrashing about, instead of the garbage bin.