What Might've Been (Cricky)

Lateness and Date Night

I woke up one morning with light pouring in through my windows. I never open the blinds, so why they were open was beyond me. I rubbed my eyes and rolled over to see the clock on my nightstand. There was a note sitting on the nightstand in quickly-scrawled handwriting. I picked it up and read it over. 

Dear Ricky,
I couldn't wake you up, but it'd be REALLY nice if we could see you in the studio sometime this afternoon?
-Chris

Oh, shit. I'd completely forgotten that today was the first day we were actually sitting down to start recording some tracks. It was barely after twelve, so I would still be able to make it. I quickly got myself ready for the day, racing out the door. It occurred to me then that I didn't realize where exactly I was heading. I called up Chris immediately. 

"Ricky?"

"Sorry I wasn't up this morning." I rubbed my face, and my elbow brushed up against the horn of the car. The sound startled me. "Sorry!" I shouted. 

"It's alright! Where are you?" My panic either frustrated or worried him. I couldn't tell. 

"I'm at the house. Where are you all?"

He told me the address and I put it into my GPS, which gladly took its sweet time comprehending what I put into it. Thank God it wasn't too far away. 

After a full day of practically breaking my fingers off, I found myself lying on an old couch while the others passed by with food or video game controllers. Josh gave me a glance of concern. "You're not getting sick, are you?"

I shook my head slowly. "Just tired," I explained, yawning so as to confirm it.  

"You might not wanna fall asleep on the couch. It gets loud in here some nights."

"That's what she said," I chuckled, closing my eyes. 

He clicked his tongue. "I thought you'd be above that."

"Doesn't discount the fact that it's hilarious." My lip quirked up as I opened my eyes once more.  

"What's hilarious?" Chris asked. I sat up as he entered the room, yawning again. 

"Ricky's making sex jokes," Josh sighed.

"Josh said it gets loud in here some nights, what else was I supposed to assume?" I shrugged as innocently as I could. 

"That we were playing video games, or arguing about movies, or actually watching movies?!"

"Take it easy, man," Chris said. "There's no harm done in a little bit of dirty humor."

"Thank you, " I told Chris sarcastically. 

"On  a different note, I did have ask you something, " He started changing the subject. "In private, " He added, eyeing Josh, who left immediately. 

"What's wrong? " 

"I overheard you talking to your mother the other day. " 

"You did mention that, " I recalled. He started to pace the floor nervously. 

"And you told her that you were over something. It took me a lot of thinking, but I think you were talking about your ex. Am I wrong? " 

"You're not. " I posed in a way that made it sound like a question. 

"And I do think that I may have jumped the gun a biy a week ago. And I was supposed to ask you out for a second date, and I still want to. So, I was wondering if you'd like to catch a movie sometime tomorrow night? "  He finally stopped pacing and looked at me. 

"Yes, of course, " I agreed, nodding. "That sounds great. " 

"In the meantime, " He handed me a controller, "let's steal some cars, shall we? " 

I was nervous as all hell the next day. It'd occurred to me all of the sudden that dates entailed more formal attire, and I really didn't have anything. Then of course there was the all-important question of 'to paint my eyes or not to paint my eyes?' I decided that I was sweating so much from all of this panicking it would just end up looking too shitty to even bother. 

I settled on a light gray shirt that could pass for nice and the only jeans I owned without rips in them. The jeans were a little (a lot) too tight, for I could barely breathe in them, but they would have to do. Chris had dressed in a somewhat similar fashion, a little more formal, but not too much so. "Ready to go?" He asked me, a warm smile appearing on his lips and calming my nerves immediately. 

"Yeah," I said, thankfully able to find my voice in these pants. 

"Relax, it's just me," He chuckled. He opened the front door for me, allowing me out into the darkness of the night before following after me. I walked a little slower than usual, because my movement was restricted, and Chris followed like it was normal. I'm not worthy of this kind of kindness. By God, he even opened the passenger door of my own car for me. 

"You're driving?" I asked. 

He twirled the keys around his finger, clasping it after a few revolutions. "I'm the one who asked you, aren't I?"

"It's my car."

"I bought it for you." He waved his hand dismissively. I sighed and took my seat, mostly because I didn't really think it was worth arguing about. When he started the car, he looked over at me. I was slumped down in my seat, chin rested on my hand while I stared out the window. "You could at least pretend to be excited," He told me. 

I shot up and looked over at him. "What? I am! I am!" I insisted immediately. 

He punched my arm playfully, laughing a bit. "I'm just giving you a hard time."  I nodded slowly, feeling a rush of relief. "Let's go, then," He said, putting the car in drive while he pulled down the driveway.