Page 54 of The Story Of Us

“Sorry, I probably should have told you I’m not going to do anything today.”

“No, it’s okay. I was getting bored, too.”

He laughs softly and then shifts back on his bed, gesturing towards his laptop. “I was just going to watch a movie.”

The image of him sitting on his bed, laptop next to him, with the opening credits of a movie paused, just makes me think of all the times we watched movies together. I think about being in our separate rooms, his face in the corner of my screen, and the way he would count down from three so we could press play in sync and watch together. I think about him getting so excited at the end of each movie, pointing out his favourite scenes or particular animation techniques he noticed and how cute he looked when he was rambling.

But I try not to think too hard about the one time we watched a movie, and while I was half asleep, he confessed that he liked me. This completely changed our relationship and eventually led us to where we are now.

I really want to watch a movie with him again.

“Can I watch it with you?”

His eyebrows lift, and his mouth opens a little as he blinks rapidly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He stutters a bit before answering,

“Yeah, of course.” He shuffles around on his bed, moving the laptop from one side to the other and then to his lap. Then, he shifts forward so he’s sat on the edge. “Did you…?”

It took me a second to realise he didn’t know where to sit or where to put his laptop so that we could both see it. I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable in his own room, so I suggest something that might be selfish of me, but I want to know if it’s the same for him now as it is for me.

Since we’ve started becoming friends again, Isaac has been letting me take the lead, never pushing for too much, and letting me set the pace for our friendship. But I want to speed it up now. I’m tired of acting like everything about us is brand new when, at one point, I thought I knew him better than I knew myself.

“I can sit next to you if you don’t mind,” I say it softly, not wanting to pressure him too much. If he doesn’t want me to then I’ll sit on the chair and we can set the laptop between us.

“I don’t mind.” He says quickly, moving back to sit on one side of the bed against the wall.

He settles the laptop on his lap and then pats the space next to him before closing his eyes and shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose over his glasses. I hold back a smile as I put my bag on the desk and climb onto the bed, settling in next to him but still leaving enough of a gap between us that I won’t completely lose all my senses. He exhales deeply, like he’s been holding his breath for a few seconds.

“Ready?” he asks, his fingers hovering over the space bar, his head turned to me, and I nod.

“Three, two, one.”

We watch the movie in silence, only the sound of small laughs and little gasps now and then breaking it. Somehow, we end up sitting closer to each other, and by the end, our legs are pressed together, my hands tucked between my thighs to stop me from reaching for his.

Being this close to him feels like second nature, like how we’re always meant to be, and I’ve missed it so much. I think he has, too, because his hands are curled into fists at his side, like he’s having to restrain himself from reaching out for me. We seem to be stuck in this weird limbo where it feels like we both want to do something, make some kind of move, go back to how we were, but neither of us wants to be the first to do it.

Isaac keeps the movie playing until the credits have finished; he always watches them because he thinks the people who work behind the scenes don’t get enough appreciation for the work they do. I told him once that I couldn’t wait for the day I’d see his name on a screen, too, and it’s still true. I don’t know what’s happening with his parents or his future, but I hope he can achieve that dream. I hope I can be there to see it, too.

He closes the laptop, moving it to his side of the bed before clearing his throat.

“So, did you like it?”

“I loved it.”

We’re not looking at each other. My eyes are focused on the places our legs are touching, thigh against thigh, and I don’t want to be the first one to move away.

In my peripheral, I can see him nodding his head, his hands still clenched but less tightly now. I turn slightly to look at him, and his eyes are closed, so I take the time to catalogue his features. It’s the closest we’ve been to each other, the most physical contact we’ve had since we broke up, and I miss being able to count the freckles on his face. I miss the way I would sweep his hair off his forehead. I miss how I would nudge his glasses down his nose so that I could see his beautiful, green eyes. I miss the way I would push his glasses back up when I wanted to kiss him.

ONE YEAR AGO

Isaac takes his glasses off, placing them on the desk in between us as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, and I realise I’ve never seen them properly without his glasses before.

“You have really pretty eyes.”

“What?” He lets out a soft laugh, lifting his glasses, but I place my hand over his to stop him.

“No, wait, let me look.”

I lean over the desk, closing the distance between us and bringing my face closer to his. Of course, I know that his eyes are green; it’s one of the first things I noticed about him all those years ago, but now, up close, I can see that there’s a ring of gold around them that makes them even more beautiful.

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