Lost in Translation

Chapter 9: Aftershock

———Anthony———

Sunday, May 5th, 2019

I stayed frozen on the porch for at least two full minutes as I watched Ben all but skip down the street and out of sight. I shook my head as if it was waterlogged and patted my still-warm face before turning around and stepping back inside.

"Well, he certainly left in a good mood. Tell me everything," James said, appearing on the other side of the open door the moment I swung it shut. I swore loudly and took a step back. The weird fuzzy fog clouding my head disappeared as annoyance crept through my veins like ice.

"No, fuck you. And you were eavesdropping anyway, so I shouldn't have to tell you anything," I spat as I side-stepped past James, stalking into the living room, and dropped on the couch. I closed my eyes and was unsurprised to feel the other end of the couch dip with James' weight as he predictably followed me.

"Oh, come on, you displayed a wider range of emotion tonight than you did the entirety of Freshman year. Can you blame me for being curious?" He protested.

"Yes," I answered flatly without opening my eyes.

"Ant."

"James."

"Anthony."

"Jameson," I replied mockingly, mimicking the serious, scolding tone of his voice.

"Don't call me that," James replied, his tone suddenly harsh. I peeked open one eye to find him staring out the front window with a scowl.

"My bad. Sorry, man," I said softly as I closed my eyes again and leaned my head back. James took in a deep breath and sighed.

"It's ok," he said just as softly before returning to his disgustingly misplaced cheer, albeit a bit more muted now. "I can't believe you had a date tonight."

"It wasn't a date," I scoffed.

"Anthony."

"Hmm?"

"You had dinner together," James stated.

"People have dinner together all the time," I countered dismissively.

"You both dressed up nicely," he continued.

"I wore what you told me to because you would be annoying if I didn't," I said, a bit weaker this time but still firm.

"He brought you flowers," James said, and I froze, mouth open, desperate for protests and denials I couldn't seem to find.

"He.... he brought me flowers, yeah," I admitted weakly.

"That sounds like a very date-like thing to do," James said knowingly.

"Shut the fuck up," I replied, but my response lacked any kind of venom or vigor.

"And he wants to date you, like actually date you, it seems," James said, his voice meant to be encouraging. I knew him well enough to understand what he was doing, but it did naught for me but cause the pit that had been forming in my stomach to absolutely drop.

"He did not say that, James," I said firmly as I sat up and looked at him.

"He said he wants to get to know you, to try. You are potential mates, he showed up with flowers, he got jealous of me... he definitely wants to, Ant," James insisted through a mixture of exasperation and concern.

"Maybe he does, maybe he does now, but that isn't going to last," I snapped.

"You don't know—"