Page 8 of Marginally Yours
I examine my reflection with more scrutiny than I’m used to. I’ve never particularly cared what I look like to other people, but I find myself wondering what Callie thinks of me. Most of my long hair is pulled back into abun, with a few shorter strands hanging down in the front. My beard is neatly trimmed, but there are some patches that are discolored, some stray strands that stick out no matter what I do.
I run my fingers over my too-wide nose and trace the dark bags under my eyes. I’m already starting to get lines around my eyes. All the things I see now used to be justthings, but when I hold them up to the light that spills off of Callie, my brain is suddenly putting them firmly in theflawcategory.
This is as good as it gets, I suppose.
I've got thirty minutes or so before I need to leave, so I grab my notebook and get some writing in. My outline is as done as a work in progress can be, and I’ve already started on the first draft. I wrap up the second chapter before I leave.
By the time I pull up to her apartment, I could probably power the whole town with the nervous energy coursing through me. I head to her door and shoot her a text on the way to let her know I’m here. She texts back that she's on her way out, so I lean on the railing and look around while I wait.
There's a row of apartments here, all connected into a single, one-story building with their own doors and little stoops. While the rest of the doors are plain, hers has a little lavender and pine wreath hanging inside the screen door and potted flowers all over the stoop. It's really not a big town, but I don't even remember this apartment being up for rent. She must know a landlord in town or something.
She opens the door, and her eyes go wide as she takes me in. I’m about to start squirming under her perusing gaze, but then she smiles, and relief washes over me.
"Well, look at that," she muses. "A scholaranda gentleman." I chuckle and hold out my elbow for her. She links her arm through mine, and I walk her to the car, releasing her to open the door. Once she’s in, I close the door for her and take a few deep breaths while I walk around to my door. When Islide into my seat, my stomach flips when I see that she's already smiling at me.
"So," she starts, fidgeting with the hem of her dark green sweater. "Have you been to this place before?" I see her leaning forward out of the corner of my eye and realize the angle is hard for her to read my lips, so I turn the radio down and twist my head as far as I can in her direction without taking my eyes off the road before replying.
"Yeah, a few times," I tell her. I glance over to make sure she got that. Her smile tells me she did, and that she appreciates the effort. I look back at the road but keep my face angled toward her as I continue. "The restaurant has always been here, but they added the arcade about a year ago. I went there with some friends for their grand reopening event, but it was so crowded that we didn't stay long. We came back a few days later and had a good time though."
My eyes drift back to her like she has her own gravitational pull. She's got her elbow propped against the window with her head leaning into her open palm, and she's just watching me. The look on her face tells me she couldn't care less where we're going. She's just happy to be here.
"So, where did you live before here?" I ask, hoping that maybe she’ll be more likely to open up outside of the store. “Somewhere close?” She shakes her head, and I almost expect her to leave it at that.
"No, I was in Maine before here. I move around a lot," she tells me. I'm guessing she sees the worry in my face at that, because she lets out a soft 'oh' before she continues. "I'll be here for a while, though. I don't think I'll be moving again any time soon."
I hide my sigh of relief under a laugh. "Good," I tell her with a sly smirk. "You can't leave until I show you the Seven Wonders." She crinkles her brows at me, and I laugh again.
"The Seven Wonders are what we call the only fun thingsto do around here," I explain. "Someone started calling them that when I was in high school and it just stuck, I guess. First, we have the trail at the park. It’s kind of icy around this time of year, though. It starts at the back of the duck pond and it's pretty easy to walk, but it spits you out at the top of a cliff with a really nice view of the rest of the park."
Her eyes light up at that, and I immediately know where we're going next time.
"Next," I say, holding up two fingers. "We have this really nice gazebo in the park with these huge flower bushes everywhere. Everyone goes there to take pictures for prom and engagements and shit. It's really pretty. But a lot of people also just go there to hang out and read or study or have picnics when it's nice out."
"That sounds so fun!" She's definitely excited, which is good, because I'm already formulating this entire tour date in my head. I hold up a third finger.
"Next, we have the best Mexican restaurant in town. Well, the only Mexican restaurant in town, but it's still amazing. The food is authentic and absolutely delicious, but more importantly, it's dirt cheap. I'm talking dinner for two, have to be removed from the table by crane, won't need to eat for a week kind of full. For under twenty bucks. It's always packed but they put heaters out on the patio for winter so we could still go, even if it’s cold-"
I try to stop, but the words are already out and now she knows I'm already planning it. "If you want to, that is," I say, trying to recover. I chance a look in her direction, and she's looking at me like she won the lottery.
"Oh, definitely," she says, gleaming again. "Tacos are my favorite food on the planet, honestly."
Thank fuck. And then, before I can stop myself, and because I'm an actual moron with no social filter, I jump directly back into thefire.
"Okay, it's a date." I cringe, expecting silence. I beg the universe for enough luck that maybe she wasn't looking at me when I said it, but I know she was. That was so fucking dumb. Too much, too soon. This isn't a date, we're just hanging out. I can't just assume that she's interested in me because she's nice to me and we're hanging-
She says something, and my ears hear it, but my brain doesn't process it. A featherlight touch on my cheek yanks me out of my head. My eyes dart to her and she's settling back in her seat, her smile stretching from ear to ear. Did she just kiss my cheek? Is that a real thing that just happened? The neurons in my brain are running around with fire extinguishers right now.
I realize I'm frozen and she's about to start regretting her decision so I recover as fast as I can. I still don't know what she said, but I'm hoping it was something affirmative. "Awesome," I say, and then take the safe route and continue my list.
"So, where were we?" I scrunch my face up a bit, trying to rewire whatever part of my brain just fried itself.
"Four," she says, and I nod.
"Right, number four. Well, four is actually the bookstore. People really like the café, even if they don't come in for the books." She scowls, her eyebrows pinching together, and I swear it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen in my damn life. I can't help but laugh, and she realizes that her face moved of its own accord and lets out a soft giggle that I can feel in my spine. Oh, I'm so toast.
"Yeah, I know, right? At least pretend to read something," I muse. "Anyway, next is the dog park. It's not part of the actual park, and it's really small, but it's fenced in, and people usually just let their dogs go off leash and play. So, it's basically like a free petting zoo. There are some benches and stuff to hang out on, too. Not a great place for picnics, though, as I'm sure you can imagine."
"Well," she counters. "I'm sure it's a great place for picnics if you're a dog."
