Holding on to You

Chapter 1: Phosphorescent

A/N: It's so good to be back! As always, I'm open to feedback. Thanks in advance for all your lovely comments, and happy reading!

-

The first sensation I felt after a long time of what seemed like nothing at all was Joe's hand on my knee.

"You ready, Shot Caller?"

Even though I couldn't see anything past the blindfold over my eyes, I was buzzing with excitement. "As ready as I'll ever be."

We had been driving in his car for at least fifteen minutes now, but my concept of time couldn't be trusted. While blindfolded, I decidedly paid more attention to the hum of the engine, the flicking of Joe's turn signal. Focusing on those tiny details helped calm my nerves as we drove closer and closer to my surprise. I had no clue what he planned: All he told me at the beginning of this week was to have today, my birthday, completely free.

Though I insisted I would have been happy with a trip to the movies and a nice restaurant to celebrate, Joe protested, saying we weren't old enough yet to have such routine dates and that he wanted to make my day as special as it could be. While we're young, he said. I knew how much he loved throwing a surprise, so in good faith, I let him—even if I knew that in the days leading up to my birthday, I'd be riddled with anxiety.

"Is this all part of an elaborate plot to murder me?" I asked teasingly, feeling him reach over to unbuckle me from my seat belt. "Because if so, you're being really gentle."

He huffed. "If I really wanted to do that, I would've done it a long time ago, probably on the days you drove me most crazy."

I laughed, shoving him in jest. Even though I couldn't see it, I felt I got a good hit on his arm.

"Stay put," he told me. I heard him step out of the car, the door opening and giving way to new sounds. But I didn't hear anything, really: No chatter, no music, not even any birds chirping. Even though I could reach for the handle and get out of the car myself, I knew better than to go against Joe's command in this case.

A minute or so passed until he opened the door on my side. I grabbed the arm that he offered and let him lead me out of the car, my feet touching solid ground. Even though I wasn't wearing heels on purpose, I still struggled a little to catch my footing in my chunky boots, being the clumsy person that I was.

"It's a little icy, so watch your step," Joe said, holding onto me as I walked forward, feeling so much like a deer on ice skates.

It had been a crisp month of January so far with only a little snow, but enough to melt into puddles that iced over. I took a deep breath in, feeling the cold air fill my lungs and not realizing how stuffy it had been in the car.

After thirty seconds of walking, we stopped so that Joe could open a door for me. He helped me inside and I could only hear the whirring of what sounded like a heating unit. I felt that I was on a solid floor, different from the parking lot gravel outside. At this point, the suspense was killing me, and I couldn't hide it from my face. I could handle small surprises easily—a pick-me-up coffee dropped off at my desk, a thoughtful gift, even the stunt that Joe pulled last year at Funky Anchovy. But the anticipation here was enough to have me practically shivering. Worse, Joe hadn't said anything in at least a minute.

"Alright, Avery, you ready?"

I laughed. "Yes!"

I felt his hands untying my blindfold and as soon as my vision returned to me, I was greeted with the smiling faces of our closest family and friends. "Surprise!" they exclaimed. But it wasn't enough to have my dad and my cousins and Joe's family from Athens all in Cincinnati at the same time, side-by-side with our friends from the city and our Bengals circle. We were also at one of my favorite places: the American Sign Museum, surrounded by a plethora of neon signs of all shapes and sizes and colors. It was one of the first places I went to when I first moved to Cincinnati, and my camera and I couldn't get enough of how visually stunning the rainbow signs were against the dark, brick walls of the museum. And now, seeing all of our loved ones together, I couldn't help but want to capture the moment. Without my camera however, a long look at them to try and immortalize the image in my mind would do. It made me happier than I wanted to admit.