We eat side by side at the counter in mostly silence. Our respective books splay out in front of us, as we get lost in our own fictional worlds. When her alarm to leave for work goes off, she rinses her plate, before running back down the hall to brush her teeth and get changed. I sit at the counter, attempting to read my book, but the same feeling of contentment doesn’t sit quite right now without her next to me.
She walks back out, in a pair of black leggings and a form-fitting tank that shows off her every gorgeous curve. The sight of her usually always leaves me speechless, like some braindead caveman that’s primal urge is to throw her over my shoulder and claim her as mine.
Grabbing her keys from the entryway table, she slips a shoe onto each foot. “Hey, thank you again for making breakfast.”
“Anytime. I enjoy our mornings together.”
Her cheeks tinge pink at my words, and I’m worried I’ve scared her off. She’s like a cat that will make a run for it if you push too hard.
“Me too,” she says, not making eye contact. “Will you be around later?”
I’m equal parts surprised and excited that she’s asking. “I’ll be here. Ready for my next round of reality television education with you.”
She smiles wide, finally looking up at me. “I’m still appalled you have never seen one single episode ofJerseyShore. It’s basically like thePride and Prejudiceof our time, but with more hair gel and less class.”
I burst out laughing. Most of the time she’s so quiet and timid. Then she’ll go and say something like that. It catches you off guard in the best way possible, making you want to dig deeper and know more. Over the last few weeks, I’ve discovered that beneath her shy surface, there’s a whole other side to her.
Throughout the six hours that she’s gone, I attempt to play the part of a functioning adult. I clean the house, sort through papers, and double-check the details of my new school schedule, as if organizing my life will stop me from looking at the clock every five minutes. But it doesn’t. I still glance up, waiting for 2:00 p.m to hit, and take countless glances out the front window to see if I can spot her car pulling into the driveway. When she does finally arrive back at the house, she sneaks in so silently that I almost don’t hear her. The front door barely creaks. She’s perfected the art of entering unnoticed, twisting the knob gently and shutting the heavy door lightly so that it won’t make a sound. I hear her soft footsteps, barely there, and wonder if she’s been conditioned to move this way. Like she’s learned to shrink herself to fly under the radar.
I stay in my room, not wanting to spook her by coming on too strong. Once I hear the rush of water from the shower start, I head to the kitchen where I order pizza to be delivered. Ten minutes later, she walks out from her room. Her long hair is wet and beginning to curl into waves, and she’s dressed in nothing but a pair of tiny blackshorts and a thin tank. Either she’s trying to torture me or she has no idea of the affect she has.
“Hi.” She says softly. Her exhaustion is evident, but relief shines in her eyes as she drops onto the couch.
“How were your classes?” I sit a full cushion apart. The distance is required or else I’ll be tempted to do something dumb, that could shatter this entire friendship we’ve only begun to form.
“They were good. Every class was full, and I had some requests for one-on-one sessions.”
I can tell she loves teaching. But there’s a part of her that holds back, guarding her happiness and keeping her cards close to her chest. It’s like she thinks that if she lets the world see how much she loves it, someone will poke a hole in it and take that joy away from her.
“That’s amazing, El. They’re smart to want to hire the best teacher in town.”
She rolls her eyes, smiling. “More like they’re insane to trust me. Besides, you haven’t even taken one of my classes to know if I’m a decent teacher or not.”
“So, is that an invitation to sign up? I told you before I gladly would.”
She propels herself across the space separating us and grabs my forearm with horror. “No. Absolutely not. Don’t you dare.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” I would sign up in a heartbeat if I knew she wouldn’t be mortified to have me there. With her, I never want to cross the boundary of her comfort. I get the feeling I’m one of thefew people who have ever given her that respect and I intend to keep it that way.
Her hand lingers on my skin, the electricity between us almost tangible. The awareness of our contact dawns on her, and she pulls her hand away like I’ve burned her. She clears her throat, pretending like she didn’t feel that, too, and grabs the remote. “Are you ready for round ten of your reality show education?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Two months ago, I didn’t even know who Ronnie was, and now I can’t stand the guy for the way he treats Sammie.”
She glances at me, a huge smile lighting up her face. “Wow. You’re making me think I might actually be a good teacher. That’s some expert-level reality TV analysis.”
“See? I told you that you were the best. Let’s see how you handle the next challenge—all the History Channel documentaries I’ve got lined up next for us.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, awaiting her reaction.
Her hand freezes, remote aimed at the TV, as her head whips toward me. “Are you serious, or is that some cruel joke? Non-fiction isn’t exactly my thing.”
“Promise me you’ll at least give it a shot someday. There is plenty of drama in history I think you’d like. Take the Vikings, for instance.”
She raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “What’d the Vikings do?”
“Just raided and pillaged half of Europe, sailed across oceans in ships with dragon heads, and generally caused chaos wherever they went. All very dramatic stuff.”
She nods, considering what I’ve told her. “Okay. Thatdoessound a little cool. If I enjoy reality television chaos, maybe I’ll surprise myself and enjoy historical chaos too.”
Suddenly, the doorbell rings and Ella ducks down with wide eyes as if the house is being broken into. She’s low to the ground, a finger to her full lips signaling me to be quiet. I forgot to mention to her that I had ordered food, but the sight of her like this is almost too much for me to handle. She’s too fucking adorable when she’s in full-on stealth mode, acting like we’re hiding from a threat instead of the delivery guy.