As Green As Her Eyes

Chapter 11: Yellow paint

I wake up bright and early the following day, not so I can leave but so that I can cook breakfast for Lizzie as a way to thank her for letting me stay the night. My plan, however, doesn't come to fruition as Lizzie is already awake and cooking in her kitchen when I arrive downstairs.

"Good morning," I say.

Lizzie's answering smile is infectious. "Good morning. You look good in my clothes," she says and I feel my face heat up despite its innocence.

Surely Lizzie didn't mean anything by it, but something about the comment made my heart rattle inside of my chest. What is happening?

Clearing my throat to clear my thoughts, I say, "You have good taste in bands."

Thankfully, Lizzie doesn't sense my awkwardness.

"That's true. Come on, breakfast is almost ready."

"Do you need some help?"

"Yes, actually. Can you look after the waffles for me while I head out to the garden? I can't make lemonade without lemons."

I chuckle and just like that, the tension evaporates from my body. "Sure."

I round the counter and watch as Lizzie walks from the kitchen to her living room and out to the garden through the sliding glass door. Turning my attention to the waffle maker, I'm about to open the latch to check on the batter when the phone in my hand rings.

It's a FaceTime request from Scarlett.

Without thinking, I click on the screen to accept the call.

"Hi," Scarlett says.

"Hey, you."

"I am so so sorry I wasn't able to contact you the past two days. Something came up with the merchandise we're launching this week and I just got so busy."

"It's okay, Scarlett. You don't have to apologize."

"I do, though," Scarlett says, the sincerity in her voice evident. "I don't want you to think that I ghosted you after what happened between us."

My face immediately heats up at the recollection. The last time that Scarlett and I were together... Well.

"I promise I didn't think that," I say.

"Yeah? You have that much faith in me?"

I smile at her. "Yes, I do."

"Good," she says, her voice lowering a notch when she adds, "I miss you."

"I miss you too," I reply and I absolutely mean it.
I'm about to ask about her day when I remember the task I was left with. Quickly, I put my phone against a jar to check the waffle maker.

I'm opening the latch when she says, "Where are you?"

"Sorry?"

"Sorry, I'm just wondering where you are right now. That doesn't look like your pool house. Are you in your kitchen?"

Taking the waffles out of the maker and transferring them onto a plate, I casually say, "Uh, no. I'm at Lizzie's."

"Lizzie? Olsen?"

"Mhm," I reply, unable to look at Scarlett with how busy I currently am. I should have looked at her, though. I could have glanced. Because if I had, I would have seen the curious expression on her face.

She is quiet as I'm spraying PAM on the mold. When I'm pouring another batch of batter, I hear her ask, "Did you stay the night?"

That finally gets my attention. I look at my phone and realize that because of its position, propped against a jar, Scarlett can see what I'm wearing — Lizzie's old band t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. Too homey for someone to wear out of their own house.