What Might've Been (Cricky)

You Got Me A WHAT?!?! (Ver. 2)

I woke up rather late the following morning. My clock was reading almost noon. I crawled out of bed and took a quick shower. There was seldom hot water around here, so the cold woke me right up. After getting dressed and eating a quick breakfast-slash-lunch of cold cereal, I was ready to both meet up with Chris and also get a job. I really needed money for a new car. My jar of savings was almost full of money, but it still was just a thousand dollars shy of enough money to buy a very shitty used car. 

There was a knock on my front door. I opened it and was happy to see the very tall Chris Motionless standing there with a cardboard box in his hands. "You wanted a phone?" He raised an eyebrow. 

I nodded and smiled a bit. "Please come in," I stepped aside to welcome him. He entered, looking around. 

"It's weird to see no boxes in here," He chuckled. He handed me to box with the BlackBerry inside. "I also decided to get you something else." He reached into his pocket. "Please don't be upset with me for taking this liberty." He handed me a set of keys. 

"You got me a car?"

"I was saving up for my own, but since I live at the house, I decided your needs were greater."

I sighed, but didn't take the keys. I wanted to, but I couldn't do that to him. "I can't accept that." I shook my head. "I need to earn the money for myself."

He looked like he was mentally debating something. He put the keys into my hand. "You can't be in the band if you don't have a car." He nodded to the set up of instruments that I had. "And something tells me that you really want to be here." 

I sighed as my fingers closed around the key. "Okay, okay. I'll take the car. You better not have gotten me anything nice."

"I got you a Hellcat Challenger," He said, grinning like an idiot. 

"Did you really?"

"No. I wanted to. But I was just shy." He pointed to my keys. "In your hands are the keys to some random Kia sedan that looked a little fancy. I drove it here. It runs nicely, and you won't have to jump start it every time you want to drive."

I looked away. "Thanks," I mumbled. 

(Inside of Ricky's head: In retrospect, since I can literally invent any car I want, I should've made him buy me a Hellcat Challenger. TJ got me a Ferrari after all.)

I stood their awkwardly. "Can I get you anything?" I offered. My mother had taught me hospitality so many times that it should've come like second nature. 

"Actually, a glass of water would be nice." Walking slowly, I entered the kitchen to take out a bottle of water from the refrigerator. It didn't come with filtered water inside, and I didn't have the energy to bother going out to get my own filtered pitcher. I found a sharpie and wrote Chris' name on the cap, which was just an old habit from getting my own water bottle stolen so many times. I handed it to him, and he gladly took a long drink. I stood their awkwardly, watching as his adam's apple bobbed up and down. He sat on one of my chairs while putting the bottle down, and shot up immediately. "What's so fucking sharp on your cushion?!" He shouted. 

I looked around it, patting until I found what he'd sat on. "Sorry, guitar string." I held up the small piece of a thin steel string from when I'd changed them the other day. 

He sighed. "Of course the tacks on your chairs are made of ten millimeter guitar strings," He said. "Why is it that I, the guest, am more comfortable than you?" He cocked his head. "Is something wrong?"

"Just a little homesick," I whispered, walking away to throw out the string.

"Do you miss anything in particular?" He sat with his legs crossed like a kindergartener on the chair. His genuine concern was sweet and welcoming though. 

"The rain. It hasn't rained once here." This was half-true. I did miss the rain, but I also missed that the rain meant that everyone would be forced to stay inside and listen to whatever new riff or song I'd written. My old boyfriend used to make that especially fun. 

He frowned. "I can't control the weather. Do you miss anything else?"

"I miss going out for tea at this great local place on the corner by the traffic light that wasn't timed right. I remember everyone used to make fun of me because I liked its English charm so much. It reminded me of gothic, Victorian-style things. Of course, when I started dressing darker and darker, it only furthered their insults upon me. Someone so punk rock going to a place like that, a place so refined." I shook my head. I had a tenancy to monologue. "I can always find more places like it though. Don't know why I linger so much."

Chris seemed genuinely interested though. "That does sound like something memorable. My only question to you is if you like tea so much, why get a coffee machine?"

"Because tea makes me homesick, and coffee give me the energy I need to feel less so." In all honesty, caffeine of any kind had become something of a drug lately. 

"Have you ever considered going out and meeting new people?"

"Why would I do that if I'm just gonna leave them in a month and a half to go on tour?" 

He raised an eyebrow. "Who said you couldn't still have something to come home to when you were away?" It struck him then. "Wow, you had some shitty friends."

"I thought they cared about me. When I said I was moving away, suddenly everyone I'd ever cared for started drifting away." I thought about my ex in particular. 

"Was one of them a girl?" He asked.

"No, I don't feel that way about women. I'm gay, actually." 

"Really?"

"Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that." I waved my hand. I'd had the coming out conversation so many times at this point, it wasn't scary anymore. People would have to take me as I am, or not take me at all. "But my ex really ditched me. He said that if I left, I didn't love him enough to stay. I told him he could come with me, but he was just so stubborn. He told me that I was chasing a silly dream, and when I came back to find that it didn't work out, no one would be there for me."

"What an asshole."

I only wished I didn't still care for him. 

He looked at the clock on my oven. "I'm sorry. I have to meet up with someone." He stood. "I'll see you around." He looked at me. "If you want to stay at the house after you're done renting this place, you're always welcome. We promise to be better friends than your others." He started for the door. "Goodbye."

"Bye," I sighed.

He shut it behind him, but came back in for a second. "Are you doing anything tonight?" His tone was nervous. I shook my head. "There's a diner on the corner. It's near the gas station. The Shell. Would you like to-? Do you-?" It was odd to see him this flustered. He was usually so confident. "You know." He made a gesture.

"You want to go to dinner with me?"

"Exactly. How does seven o'clock tonight sound?"

"Great."

"Right. I'll be going then." He turned to leave once more.