Goodbye's Second Chance

Everywhere On Earth You Go, You're Gonna Have Me as Your Man

We drove a short distance to an apartment building near the edge of campus. The ride was quiet, but at one point, he reached over and laced his fingers through mine and just held my hand the rest of the way. We've barely been together for 24hrs and yet, he keeps doing these little things like we've been a couple for years. I began to think that maybe I underestimated just how serious he's felt about me, about us, all these years.

Was it arrogance on my part to think that only I could feel such longing? Perhaps it was just my dramatic tendency towards hopelessness. There's only ever been one thing I've ever been truly confident about, and that was volleyball. Everything else was always a front, and Iwa was the only one to ever keep me in check with that. I never quite knew what was too much, and even if he never could see through it, he made sure to keep me grounded.

Maybe that was his way of keeping me to himself all that time. I turned and looked out the window as I felt the heat bloom in my cheeks at the thought. It was arrogant and possessive, but I couldn't deny the way it made my heart race just a bit. To think I was subtly trying to do the same with him with all my bullshit antics; what a tangled red string we're bound by.

He pulled into a parking spot and pulled my hand up to his lips. I turned from the window to look at him, olive eyes meeting mine. "I've been meaning to ask-why don't you live in the dorms?" I inquired. "Because I'm an exchange student, it's easier to get a short-term rental than deal with finding room in the dorms. At least that's what the housing people told me." He replied with another little kiss to my hand.

"Do you have a roommate?" Please say no. "No, it's just a tiny one-bedroom apartment." Thank the gods. "C'mon." he said with a little nod towards the door and he slowly let go of my hand. His apartment was on the fourth floor, all the way at the end. We walked in and it was indeed, a small apartment, but in true Iwa fashion, it was immaculate. He was always the one who kept things clean and organized, even his locker in the club room back in high school was perfect-clothes and towel folded, everything in its place.

"You haven't changed." I said with a little laugh. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You're a college student-why is this place so clean? Shouldn't there be like beer cans and old pizza boxes everywhere?" I joked. "It's not a frat house," he answered, the indignance growing in his voice, "What's wrong with being neat?" I couldn't help but laugh. "You're a rare breed, Iwa-chan." He shot me a glare before walking into his little kitchen.

"You're probably starving, I'll make dinner." He said casually and I just looked at him. "What?" he asked. "And he cooks too!" I taunted. "Shut up Shittykawa, you know I've always liked to cook." He pouted and went to work getting bowls from cabinets and veggies and other things from the fridge. He was right; I remember how he always helped his mom cook, and would even help my mom when he was over.

I watched him as he moved about, chopping and stirring things. I sat on the other side of the little breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, watching him like I used to when we were younger. I'd always hid it back when we were growing up, but this time, I leaned forward on my elbows, watching him openly and intently. The way he moved was graceful and calm, the demeanor of someone truly comfortable in the kitchen.

He had a little smile on his face as he chopped up some vegetables. He's so damn cute. "Whatcha making?" I asked. "A nutritionally balanced meal so that you're at peak performance tomorrow." he said without even looking up. "What? That's so boring! And when am I ever not at peak performance?" I replied, a bit offended. He stopped mid-chop and looked up, face deadpan, save for that little smile.