What If

Chapter 25

It was very early in the morning. Or at least, early for me. My body wasn't used to waking up before 11:15. I did that on purpose. I had to meet Paul at nine. I needed forty-five minutes to get ready and another twenty minutes to walk to his house, so I had promptly set an alarm for 7:55 the night before: the absolute minimum that I would need. There is nothing more valuable to me than sleep. It's more precious than gold.

After doing the initial brushing teeth and washing face routine, I needed to pick an outfit. Normally I would just throw on the first thing I saw without a care in the world, but Paul made it sound like it was going to be fancy or special or something with a twist, so I wanted to give respect to that possibility. I huffed to myself as I stared into my closet. I hadn't actually thoroughly gone through the clothes I owned since I got here. I didn't know a thing that I had.

I looked for pants of some kind. It was getting colder and colder and I didn't feel like wandering around in Liverpool's icy chills in a breezy dress. After practically destroying my room, I was able to find something comparable to black leggings in a drawer in my dresser. I sighed happily and slipped them on along with some boots. I found a really soft white sweater that I wore on top.

I looked at myself in the mirror. The outfit was really cute, but I didn't like my hair with it one bit. Straight hair would be better, but curly hair would be even better than that. I grabbed the curling iron my mom had in her room and examined it closely. I had never used a curling iron in the modern age and this one looked far more ancient and more likely to start an electrical fire.

Nevertheless, I nervously plugged it in and took my best guess as to how it worked. I wrapped my hair in it and twisted it up. Seconds later, a perfect curl fell out. Sighing in relief, I did my entire head. I had never seen myself with curly hair before. I had to admit, it looked great.

I grabbed a bright red peacoat and buttoned it over my sweater. Then I grabbed a knitted white hat and slipped it on my head, pushing my curls down. I grabbed a bunch of money, stuck it in my sock, yelled goodbye to my mother, and walked out the front door, starting my journey to Paul's old rundown house.

It had finally snowed the night before. A thin layer of snow covered the ground, grass on people's lawns still able to just barely poke through. Some was still coming down in a light flurry. Luckily, there was no wind, so hopefully my cheeks wouldn't get red.

Twenty minutes of walking later, I stood in front of Paul's house. The cracks on the outside had filled up with snow making it look like vines of snow were climbing up his house, actually pretty.

I knocked on the door and not five seconds later Paul opened the door. He was bundled up in a coat, a scarf, and had a big grin on his face.

"Colleen!" he said, looking me up and down. "You look great!" He came fully outside and closed the door behind him. "Are you ready to go?"

I grinned too. "Yeah," I answered. "Where are we going?"

"That's a surprise!" He grabbed my hand and started jogging down the sidewalk with me in tow. Not again, I thought, already mourning the loss of my arm once he would finally pull it off. "But first, I figured we'd get breakfast! You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"No!" I called to him over the sound of air passing by my ears.

"Great! There's this place in the center of town! I don't eat there often, but I figured it might be nice for today!"

Suddenly, he stopped completely abruptly. I smashed right into his shoulder. He was just standing, still holding my hand, staring up the road. Totally lost, I asked "What're you doing?"

He looked at me and answered "Well, it's not exactly that close. We have to take the bus."

I glared at him like he was fucking insane. "Then why did we run?"

He smiled. "Running's fun, isn't it?"

I sarcastically smiled back. "You know what else is fun? Being a couch potato. Guess what I am. I'm a cushion-loving inanimate vegetable."

Paul laughed and turned his attention back to the road. "Exercise is good every once in a while. And from what I've seen, you don't tend to do that much."

"Have I mentioned that I'm a potato?" I asked playfully angrily.

"Tsk, you're not a potato."

"Right down to the buttery goodness."

He grinned and said "Well, you're the skinniest potato I've seen. And, don't worry; I'll save you from your potato-Hell with lots of running."

"Um, excuse me?" I said sarcastically. "I think you mean potato-heaven. There is nothing more heavenly than living your life as a potato." He just laughed watched for a bus again. I held out my hand to him dramatically and said "Join me, Paul. Join the world of potatoes and fight to keep balance among your starchy brethren."

He shook his head at me playfully. "Colleen-"

I theatrically rested my free hand on his head and said loudly to the heavens "I christen you 'Potato Paul' and you shall be the most musically-talented potato to ever exist! Now sit down and be the potato you were born to be, damn it!"

He laughed and yanked me closer, pulling me into a playful hug. He squeezed me tightly, picking me two inches off the ground. He tightened his grasp more and more as the moments continued, to the point where pain was demanding to not be ignored.

"Paul, you're gonna turn me into mashed potatoes if you don't stop," I begged, my voice barely able to come out.

He kindly put me down where I was able to finally catch my breath from his crushing.

"You're a mean potato," I playfully scolded.

He laughed once more. Then a bus pulled up in front of us. A few people got off and the two of us jumped on. I'd never used a bus before. Where I lived, the only buses we had were school buses. My town wasn't big enough for public transit.

"Two tickets please," Paul asked the driver. He pulled out a couple pounds and gave them to the man who gave him two tiny pieces of paper in return. Afterward he put his hand on my back and guided me to two open seats. I sat next to the dirty window and looked out at the equally dirty city that was slowly getting whiter and whiter as the tiny snowflakes gently fluttered down from the sky.

I turned to Paul and said "How much was the ticket? I'll pay you back." I grabbed the money I kept my boot and offered it to him.

He held his hand up, rejecting my offer. "Absolutely not. It's the man's job to pay for the lady and I am the man." I sighed and reluctantly slipped the money back where it came from. "You're not paying for anything today, so just keep that money in your boot."

Like Hell, I thought. I didn't know what he had planned, but I was sure it was going to be expensive. I wasn't the richest person in the world, but I did have more money than he did. I hoped he wasn't going to be this stubborn for the rest of the day.