Friendly Dating - Kira

Chapter 20 - The Wonderful Art of Making Lists

The happy aroma of freshly brewed coffee greets me when I enter the kitchen dressed in soft navy-blue capri pants and an oversized red Stormtrooper t-shirt. My favourite lounge-around-the-house outfit.

Ethan is seated at the kitchen table, carefully cleaning our new shell, using the old toothbrush we store under the sink for that purpose. He looks up when I join him at the table, putting my laptop, a notepad and some coloured pens I've brought with me down on the surface.

"Isn't that my t-shirt?" he asks, running his eyes over me, a frown knitting his brows.

"Isn't that my bracelet?" I echo his question, pointing at the beads around his wrist.

"Kicks, you can have any of my clothes you want," he chuckles, picking up the shell and holding it up to distract me. "It's pretty clean," he grins. "Nothing growing in or on it. I've given it a brush, and I'll cover it in toothpaste and let it rest for a few hours, then soak it. Should be good enough."

Sometimes we get shells that have bits of dead tissue stuck on or inside them, making the cleaning process much longer. We boil those and soak them for a couple of days, regularly changing the water, and then brush them. Once the shells are completely clean, we either rub them with mineral oil or paint them with clear nail polish, depending on the type of shell.

I'm glad to hear that this shell is an easy one. We never take shells with live animals or snails in them; we leave those to fulfil their roles in life first. We only take intact, high-quality dead shells, which is why collecting all the shells on my mom's chart is taking years.

"Awesome!" I smile, sitting down at a right angle to Ethan and dragging my laptop into place in front of me.

"Are we seriously going to do homework now?" he asks, frowning at my stationery. He actually looks a little bit afraid of my answer, and I roll my eyes with a snort. He pushes the shell aside and gets to his feet, and when he returns to the table, he is carrying two mugs of steaming coffee.

"It's not going to be that bad," I assure him when he grabs the biscuit tin from the cupboard and sits down at the table. "You can write your list in the notepad," I suggest, nudging the book towards him, "and I'll type and print mine, and then we can put them up in our rooms." I stop when I see him frowning.

"Are we making to-do lists for each other?"

That is an excellent question that I have no answer to.

"I... don't know... maybe..." I have no idea what we're doing. "We could start with things we expect from our ideal partner... as a basis... maybe..."

"So, you want me to make a list of things I want you to do as my girlfriend?" he asks, looking really happy about the plan.

"Yes... I think so." This doesn't feel very wise at all, and his smile just keeps on growing, dimples and all. "Nothing pornographic, perverse or gross," I add hastily to put an end to that smile.

"Well, there goes my list," he sighs dramatically, dropping the pen he'd picked up on the notepad and grabbing a biscuit from the tin instead.

"Ethan..." I narrow my eyes looking at him, dunking and munching three biscuits in quick succession. He just grins, enjoying his snack. I've never met anybody who loves eating as much as Ethan does. Well, maybe Barn, but he usually just inhales his food and snacks; Ethan gets a truly blissful expression on his face when he eats something tasty.

I sip my coffee, watching him pick up the pen and hover the tip over the page in front of him, waiting for him to start writing, but he is staring at the page as if it is the enemy about to attack him. I lower my cup with a sigh when he drops the pen again and just close my eyes and enjoy the aroma of the coffee he gave me instead.