Page 13 of The Opposite of Romance
“Umm, yeah. I think so.” I look down at our hands, noticing how big his hand looks around mine. His eyes land on the ruined wall, so I continue. “I tried to put some photos up.”
“What are you, the Hulk?”
“Har-har. I’ll have you know I’ve never done that before. I guess I miscalculated the amount of strength I needed.” I pull my hand back from his grasp.
He hisses. “Wouldn’t want to be on the other side of that miscalculation.”
“Now I have to figure out how to fix … that.” I gesture to the hole.
He chuckles before saying, “I’ll fix it,” then turns toward the patio door.
“No way. You’re doing too much already.”
“I said I’ll fix it.” He walks out of the house.
“Ok. I guess you’ll fix it,” I say to myself.
A few minutes later, he’s back, carrying various tools, not allof which I can name. He slaps some plaster on the hole I made, smoothing it with a spatula.
“Where’s the measuring tape?” he asks, turning toward me.
“I-I don’t have it.”
He nods in understanding, but I feel like a fool, thinking I could do this on my own.
“What was the plan?”
“Each step was supposed to be a photo.”
“Let me find my tape.” He disappears outside.
He gets back, a pencil stuck between his full lips, a measuring tape in hand. When he’s done measuring the wall and stairs, there are twelve little X marks above each step. He proceeds to fill his pocket with nails and nails them to their respective spots. My heart’s in my throat the whole time, but I guess he knows the right amount of strength to use to not ruin the entire wall.
Looking inside the cardboard box, he takes out picture by picture and puts them up, just like I wanted—chronologically. I should have probably intervened to help, but something about this glued me to the spot.
Maybe it’s the fact he knows exactly what he’s doing. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t complained once about my silly ideas that I can’t do on my own. Or maybe it’s the fact that he looked downright edible doing it.
Whatever the reason, I’ve a feeling this sight won’t be leaving my mind anytime soon.
He grabs his stuff and walks back outside before I finally snap out of my stupor.
“Thank you,” I yell after him. “That was super nice of you.”
“I’ll do the last one when the plaster dries,” he responds, not turning around.
It’s then I realize that the hole I made is the only one not covered with a photo frame. It’s still a white blob, but I guess it makes sense it needs to dry before putting a nail into it.
Chapter Seven
A familiar facesmiles at me at school pick up. Will’s honey-colored eyes are warm and inviting as he walks toward me. “Hi, Sadie. How are you settling in?”
“Pretty great. Finally added some final touches to the house.” My own lips turn up.
“That’s good to hear. Let me know if you need some help.”
“I’m doing ok so far, but thank you for offering. Actually, would Kayla be interested in coming to hang out on Friday? We can play a movie or something.”
“Sure. I think Kayla will be thrilled. You’ll text me the address?”
