The Ineffable Ruth Rhodes

13 phone contact

ruth

Vincent Alderage was exactly the type of guy girls thought they fell in love with, when they were really just infatuated.

It was quite a simple mistake to make, especially if the most good-looking guy you'd ever laid eyes on began to smile at you, or talk to you often, or maybe even happened to start fake dating you. Your heart starts to beat faster when he looks at you, you start wanting to run fingers through his curls, you wonder how he's doing.

This was exactly why Ruth decided she needed to tread carefully around Vincent. She didn't want to give herself the chance to go through infatuation, much less thinking about love at all.

A familiar name popped up on the screen of her phone as it buzzed.

She picked up the phone annoyedly, sighing. "Hello?"

"Hey! Judging by how annoyed you sound, you must've known it was me." His voice sounded thicker on the phone. It was like she could hear him smiling. She heard him laugh. "What's my contact saved as, by the way?"

"Just 'Vincent'," she said.

He laughed like she made a joke.

"What's mine?" she asked, letting curiosity take over.

He hummed. "Can't say."

She was about to chastise him when he cut her short.

"That's not why I called." he sounded amused. She heard traffic, and realized he was driving. "Are you busy?"

"... depends why you're asking," she replied. "I'm really comfortable here."

He laughed again, and she closed her eyes and just listened. His laugh was musical, almost soothing and welcoming. She wanted to hear it again.

"Let me guess— you're in pjs watching your favorite show?"

"... I refuse to confirm nor deny that statement."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "I was thinking we could get together and start the written or read project for english."

"Oh, okay," she reached for a piece of paper to write down the time and location, "When?"

"Right now, my house."

"What?"

"Yeah. I'm outside your house."

"You're what?"

"Surprise!"

—-

"You're nervous," Vincent observed, as they excruciatingly slowly climbed the stairs to the doorstep of his house. His house was somewhat intimidating, not because it was too large or too small, but because it was his house. Simply put it looked like a medium sized cottage, a place for busy bodies and workers on the go, but also a place to relax and warm up some hot coco, with silver-lined house number plates. There were faded red and grey bricks on the bottom edge, lining the cream and dark green walls reaching high into the sky, with black porch lights and colorful Christmas lights on the top linings although it was very obviously not Christmas.

"I'm not."

She was indeed, nervous.

"You are." Vincent grabbed the hand she was about to run through her hair and met her eyes. "My family isn't that bad, if that's what you're worried about."

"I know," she removed his grip on her hands. "But before we go in— do you have any siblings? Or let me ask, how big is your family?"

Vincent grimaced as he thought about it. "How about I show you?"