Page 40 of Strike Zone

“Yes. Do you remember the plan?” she asks once she’s close enough to whisper. I nod.

We’re going to start watching the movie. After a few minutes, Wren is going to come up with an excuse to leave which will give me an opportunity to be alone with Charlie. Simple and straightforward.

“Good,” Wren says with a nod.

We both grab a bowl of snacks off the counter and walk into the living room. Charlie is already sitting comfortably on the couch with a blanket covering her legs. I’m not sure where I should sit.

There are two armchairs on either side of the couch and the whole right side of the couch is available. I opt for the right side of the couch leaving an empty space in between me and Charlie.

It would be weird if I plopped down next to her. I need to ease into it. This is not my typical hookup situation. Usually if I’m walking into a girl’s dorm, it’s already been decided that we are going to hook up. The question is when are we going to give up the pretense of watching a movie and have sex.

Wren places her drink on a coaster, naturally, on the table beside me. “Can you scoot over? I like sitting here. It’s the optimal seat to watch a movie.”

“Why would I give that up then?” I get more comfortable, resting my head on the back of the couch. She’s right. It is a nice spot. I can see the television perfectly from here without straining my neck. I have the table beside me and the arm of the couch to lean on.

“Because you’re nice and you want me to have it.”

“Am I though?” I question her. “If this is the best seat then I think I should have it as your guest.”

“Wyatt,” Wren snaps, losing her temper. She raises her eyebrows in Charlie’s direction. Oh. Oh, she’s helping me. Why do I find that irritating?

“Sure, you can have this seat. I’ll just scoot over here.” I slide over to the middle cushion and attempt to get comfortable again. I already miss the armrest. But I am closer to Charlie. That’s all that matters. “Hi,” I say to her. “What movie are we watching?”

Charlie smiles. Her eyes sparkle just like the first time I met her. “The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds.”

“I love this movie! It’s my favorite.” I shift in my seat and get cozy under a blanket they had folded on the back of the couch. I didn’t expect the girls to pick out a movie I actually liked.

“I know. Wren picked it out. She said it was your favorite. I love Sandra Bullock. Miss Congeniality is one of my favorite movies.” Charlie beams.

Wren quietly eats popcorn as Charlie and I run through all of Sandra’s filmography. She did this for me. She picked my favorite movie knowing it would give me and Charlie common ground.

Leaning toward her, I grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl she has resting in her lap. “Thank you,” I whisper close to her ear. Her wildflower perfume fills the space between us. I forgot how good she smells.

“No problem. I’m just holding up my part of the agreement.”

She is, but she’s going above and beyond. Why? Maybe this is just how Wren is. Her ability to observe and retain the minute details makes her a thoughtful and caring person underneath her stoney exterior.

The movie starts and the three of us settle in. I’ve watched this movie a thousand times. I start silently mouthing the lines along with the movie.

“Do you mind?” Wren asks.

“Mind what?” I take a handful of popcorn from the bowl and pop a few pieces in my mouth.

“Your mouth is moving. It’s distracting.”

“You’re distracting,” I snap back without thinking. Her head slowly swivels to me. She stares, trying to understand the meaning behind my words.

I’m distracted by both women sitting beside me. Charlie because she keeps squirming on the couch trying to get comfortable and Wren because my body is hyper aware of hers. I can feel her presence without having to touch her. There is this electric buzz that flows between us.

I can’t explain it, but it’s almost like two magnets hovering over each other. You can only keep them apart for so long before they’re forced to come together.

“I forgot how much I love Margaret,” I say in a weak attempt at ignoring this pull I feel towards Wren.

“Me, too,” Charlie agrees. “She kind of reminds me of you, Wren. You have a similar style and personality.”

“Is that a good thing?” Wren asks. “She’s kind of a bitch, isn’t she?”

“She’s direct. Nothing wrong with that. She knows what she wants and goes for it,” I tell her. Wren is a lot like Margaret now that I think about it.

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