Fireworks

43

A bead of sweat snakes its way down my back. I shift my weight, glancing around nervously.

I shouldn't have come here. This was stupid.

The sounds of hammering, shouting, and loud engines fill my ears. It's not pleasant. The clay parking lot is dusty and rocky and offers no shade whatsoever from the beating sun.

A group of guys in neon construction vests and dirt-smeared construction corduroys emerge from the shell of the building at the edge of the parking lot, some with cigarettes dangling out of their mouths and hardhats sat atop their heads.

I'm about to flee to my car and drive away, pretending that this never happened, when a surprised voice calls, "Hadlee?"

On July 6th, Arlo had gone back to his job as a residential construction worker. His shifts start at 5:45 a.m., and he gets off at 6:00 at night. We had spent all day on the 5th together, the only day that both of us would be free for pretty much the entire summer. We met up early in the morning so we'd be able to get a jump start on the day. I can tell that Aro was trying to act nonchalant about everything, so I tried too, but we were both kind of failing at hiding how into each other we were. I know that we'd agreed to not take anything seriously right now, but I couldn't help how attached I was getting. We went to visit a local museum neither of us had been to together, and spent the morning there. They had a large garden and greenhouse, so we wandered through the greenery admiring it all and talking. We talked non-stop. Whatever restraints had been in place during our friendship were gone, and we talked about everything. I shared more about my brother (245 days since he's passed,) and he shared bits and pieces about what his father was like before he'd bailed, and how his mom meant the world to him. We'd gone to Vinnies for some food after that, and then went back to his place to play Bananagrams on the roof of his apartment building while the sun was setting.

It was stupid how rapidly I've become obsessed with him.

The only reason I didn't feel awkward about how quickly my feelings were escalating was that Arlo seemed to be on the exact same page as me. He talked more than I'd heard from him at one time before, which was surprising and pleasing in the best ways. He constantly asked questions about me, like what my favorite type of tree is and how long I'd been playing piano. He'd started grabbing my hand often, kissing my cheek every time we parted ways, and touching my hair whenever he felt so inclined. It was heaven.

He went back to work, though, and his days were full from early in the morning to the evenings. I came over to his place after he got off work and after he'd had time to shower and unwind a bit, and we would plan a small "date" for each night.

He insisted he was fine to go out or travel places, but I felt terrible about how long and hard his workdays were. Our compromise was that I came over for at least an hour each evening to do a small date-like activity. The first day, we had picked out a book for the other person to read, one that we had enjoyed and wanted to recommend to the other, or one that reminded us of each other. We laid on his bed reading silently for the night, and it was really nice. The next night we took turns cooking for each other, (I stocked up on groceries while he was at work) and then had a little picnic on the floor of the loft listening to the playlist he'd made for me.

The dates lasted until July 11th.

Cecily had texted me asking if I wanted to start helping her with a volunteer project she was organizing. She had been asked by the local library, which her mom works at, to redo the media center, and she was tackling the project head-on. I of course said yes, but that was before I had realized that the hours she'd be needing help were from 5:00 to 8:00. That was normally around the time I was at Arlo's.