you're on fire when he's near you
Last Thursday, a week ago tomorrow, I walked briskly through the sliding doors of the pet store that accommodated the grooming salon in which I worked. My head was adorned with the fluffy white base of a silky red hat, a white pouf of the same material as its base trim dangling over my shoulder, along with my two-to-three-sizes-too-large smock--the look was somehow awkwardly flattering.
I walked with a skip in my step into the abrupt end of a job I had held for seven months. A job I had made sacrifices for, both in hobbies and social life. A job I had loved, even through difficult customers and the complaints that came in words of my own.
I walked out those same sliding doors that Thursday, as I did five days a week, just eight minutes after I'd arrived as opposed to the usual eight hours. I stepped into the winter-dark parking lot not with the usual half-tiredness, half-excitement at the thought of returning home and feeling of small accomplishment, but with a small partial-week paycheck in my hands, a soft red hat tucked under my arm and a damp face made cold by the gentle cold of the wind blowing leaves about the parking lot.
It didn't take a lot to convince Nick to walk outside so I could pick him up. I told my parents about the job and Nick and I sat around in the basement for a while. Then I had the idea to call Joe. We looked up his number and, surprisingly, he was free from school and work.
The three of us picked up the highway into Boston. I drove with Nick in the passenger seat, Joe in the back. The ride there was fairly uneventful, sans Nick and my endless quoting of Scrubs, and my heartbeat quickening as I leaned over Nick and whispered to him that I was interested in Joe.
We parked in an overpriced parking garage and took an elevator up to the Prudential. The large book store held our interest for a while, as we browsed the manga section. I stumbled over words on occasion, trying to act as normal as possible. I had talked to Nick about asking Joe, and he had, reluctantly, agreed. One way or another, as every excursion, we wound up at the restrooms. Joe headed in and I briefed Nick on things he already knew, and as Joe came out, I darted into the ladies' room. Locked in a stall, heart and mind racing in a blur, a voice that could only be Nick's filled the ladies' room from the outside. "YES!"
Not expecting an answer, especially not the one I had just heard--had I heard it? No, I must have--I washed my hands quickly and walked out the door.
"Did you hear what I shouted?" Nick asked, looking at me. Eyes to the floor, I shook my head and tried not to look flustered. "He said yes." I looked at Joe, my expression one of wonder. "Really?" If my heart quickens a bit more it's sure to stop, I thought. He was smiling. "Yeah." He threw his arm around my shoulders and I tried to relax as I looped my arm around the middle of his back.
I don't think I lost anything on Thursday.
I walked with a skip in my step into the abrupt end of a job I had held for seven months. A job I had made sacrifices for, both in hobbies and social life. A job I had loved, even through difficult customers and the complaints that came in words of my own.
I walked out those same sliding doors that Thursday, as I did five days a week, just eight minutes after I'd arrived as opposed to the usual eight hours. I stepped into the winter-dark parking lot not with the usual half-tiredness, half-excitement at the thought of returning home and feeling of small accomplishment, but with a small partial-week paycheck in my hands, a soft red hat tucked under my arm and a damp face made cold by the gentle cold of the wind blowing leaves about the parking lot.
It didn't take a lot to convince Nick to walk outside so I could pick him up. I told my parents about the job and Nick and I sat around in the basement for a while. Then I had the idea to call Joe. We looked up his number and, surprisingly, he was free from school and work.
The three of us picked up the highway into Boston. I drove with Nick in the passenger seat, Joe in the back. The ride there was fairly uneventful, sans Nick and my endless quoting of Scrubs, and my heartbeat quickening as I leaned over Nick and whispered to him that I was interested in Joe.
We parked in an overpriced parking garage and took an elevator up to the Prudential. The large book store held our interest for a while, as we browsed the manga section. I stumbled over words on occasion, trying to act as normal as possible. I had talked to Nick about asking Joe, and he had, reluctantly, agreed. One way or another, as every excursion, we wound up at the restrooms. Joe headed in and I briefed Nick on things he already knew, and as Joe came out, I darted into the ladies' room. Locked in a stall, heart and mind racing in a blur, a voice that could only be Nick's filled the ladies' room from the outside. "YES!"
Not expecting an answer, especially not the one I had just heard--had I heard it? No, I must have--I washed my hands quickly and walked out the door.
"Did you hear what I shouted?" Nick asked, looking at me. Eyes to the floor, I shook my head and tried not to look flustered. "He said yes." I looked at Joe, my expression one of wonder. "Really?" If my heart quickens a bit more it's sure to stop, I thought. He was smiling. "Yeah." He threw his arm around my shoulders and I tried to relax as I looped my arm around the middle of his back.
I don't think I lost anything on Thursday.