Page 40 of Stuck with You

“Netflix,” I replied. “We need a good distraction, and I’ve got a great movie to get us started.”

I turned the laptop to show her what I was thinking. She looked intrigued until she caught sight of the title on the screen. She quickly looked away, and her eyes glistened like she was about to cry. I immediately started to panic.

“I-I picked a horror movie because I knew you liked them,” I said. “I mean, they terrify me, but I thought that would make you enjoy it even more.” I was rambling, but the sight of her watery eyes worried me. I was supposed to be helping her, not making things worse.

“You’re right,” she murmured. “I do love horror films. It’s just… It’s something I do with my dad…” Her voice broke as she spoke.

I quickly backtracked. “We can watch something else… In fact, I happen to know a few good chick flicks that we could watch instead.”

Her face scrunched at the thought, and she blinked away the tears. Her voice was a little firmer when she responded. “You think I want to watch a chick flick?”

“Uh, no? I mean, no, of course not. That was just a joke.” I quickly started searching the Netflix menu for something else. I was completely messing this up. Most girls loved cuddling up to watch a chick flick when I suggested it, but Clary wasn’t most girls. I was just relieved she wasn’t close to tears anymore. The idea of watching a chick flick with me was so ridiculous to her she seemed to have forgotten she was on the verge of crying.

All I wanted to do was watch something that would take her mind off things, and as I thought it over, another option came to mind. I’d watched a crazy documentary at the start of lockdown. It probably wasn’t Clary’s thing, but it would definitely distract her.

I pulled it up on screen before turning the laptop to face her once more. “How about this?”

A confused look entered her eyes as she flicked her eyes between the screen and me. “Tiger King.You want to watch a documentary on tigers?”

“The tigers are the tamest part of this documentary, trust me.” It felt like just the thing to take Clary’s mind off her parents.

She didn’t object to my choice, so I pressed play. At first, Clary seemed uncertain, but as the show progressed, she was officially hooked. I barely watched the documentary unfold though. All my attention was on Clary. Her demeanor didn’t brighten significantly, but I could see her becoming more engaged as the show progressed, and a little of the usual light began to reenter her eyes.

She’d been slightly listless when she had started eating the ice cream out of the tub, but as her enthusiasm grew, so too did her appetite. By the time we were halfway through the first episode, she’d smashed through the tub of ice cream. I was both amazed and proud at the effort. Not many girls I knew could demolish an entire tub of ice cream in one sitting, and it was impressive.

“This show is nuts,” she murmured, as she placed the empty tub aside.

“You think this is nuts; it’s only the beginning. Wait until the show really gets going.”

“It gets worse?”

I chuckled. “Oh, yeah.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You’ll have to watch and see then.”

Clary nodded and focused on my laptop. It probably would have been a better viewing experience if we’d watched it downstairs on an actual television. But there was something relaxing about huddling around the small screen of my laptop in the darkness of her room. I think Clary felt it too because she seemed to grow more comfortable as the afternoon progressed.

When the first episode ended, Clary eagerly asked to watch the second and then the third. By the time dinner rolled around, we’d almost completed the entire season. Mom had come home from work, and she called up the stairs to announce the food was ready.

I pressed pause on the show and turned to Clary. She was stretching her arms above her head, and I caught sight of the smallest slither of skin under her top. I quickly averted my eyes. The last thing she needed today was me checking her out.

“I can’t believe it’s dinner already,” she said, as she rolled off the bed and stood up.

“That’s the magic of crazy documentaries. They really make the time fly.”

She laughed and nodded. “Yeah, they do.”

I closed my laptop and started toward the door. Clary followed me but touched my arm, stopping me before I could leave. Her eyes were warm but serious as I turned to her.

“Thanks for being my official moping buddy today,” she said, tucking a stray hair behind one ear. “I think you were right. I was doing it all wrong.”

Her gratitude made my heart swell and I smiled at her. “I’m glad I could help.”

She tentatively returned my smile before gesturing toward the door. “So, dinner?”

“Dinner,” I agreed.

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