it's just a crush

chapter 27 - september 2019

Meg sighed and rolled over in her bed, fluffing up the pillow before laying her head back down. Pale moonlight streamed into her room through the window, casting an eerie glow about the space, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block it out.

It was unseasonably warm and she couldn't sleep. She was sure she'd been tossing and turning for hours, but she didn't want to confirm it by looking at her phone and having the blue light wake her even further.

After a few more minutes, she turned over again, then finally gave up and threw the covers off her. Maybe a glass of water would help.

She tiptoed her way down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Instead of turning on the overhead lights, she flipped the switch for the oven light, which offered just enough of a glow so she could see what she was doing. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, she turned on the tap and held her fingers under the stream of water, waiting for it to turn cold enough.

The sound of a clearing throat made her nearly jump out of her skin, and she dropped the glass in the sink.

"Fuck!" Meg cried, then slapped her hand over her mouth as she peered into the darkness of the adjacent room, where a silhouette was barely visible. "Who's there?"

Without waiting for an answer, she reached for the light switch, and the room became bathed in light. She blinked and covered her eyes against the sudden brightness.

"Sorry," the voice croaked. "It's just me."

She peeked through her fingers. "Bobby?"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Sorry. Again."

What the fuck is Bobby doing down here sitting in the dark?

Still blinking as her eyes adjusted and trying to wrap her head around the fact that he was actually there, speaking to her, Meg picked up her glass from the sink and held it under the tap until it was full.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, moving towards the table and sitting down across from him.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this," Bobby replied dryly, his lips curving upwards, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the table in front of him, and the fingers of one hand curled around it. He cleared his throat again. "Ah, you know. Just... sitting here in the dark, drinking whiskey. As one does."

Meg raised an eyebrow. "In the middle of the night on a weekday? Don't you work tomorrow?"

He sighed and lowered his eyes, staring at the bottle in his hands. He bit his lip, rolling it between his teeth before answering. "Do you... do you think I'd be a good boyfriend?"

If Meg had just taken a sip of water, she would have spat it straight out. "What?" A tremor went through her as she stared at him with wide eyes.

What in the—why is he asking me this?

Bobby shrugged, still not looking up. "Am I boyfriend material? Like, do you think girls would want to date me, take me home to their families, that kinda thing?"

"Um..."

100% yes, absolutely.

But like a deer caught in the headlights, she didn't know what to say. She couldn't possibly answer as honestly as she wanted to. "I dunno..." she finally got out. "I—I'm not sure I can answer that."

His eyes raised to hers as he gave her a rueful smile. "Don't worry about it, then."

"Is there... Are you okay? I mean, is there anything—"