Paper Flyers

Chapter 10- Winnie

Quinn's apartment painted the perfect picture of who Quinn was.

It was surprisingly neat, displaying the fact that you can't escape all of your parents' habits. The furniture was old and fading in color, but surprisingly charming. Near the couch sat a small flatscreen TV and several video game consoles. On the opposite side of the main room was a small kitchen, which showcased many varieties of take-out and fast food boxes.

"All the furniture is so antique," I commented, breaking the awkward silence that nearly consumed the room a minute ago. "Where did you get it?"

"It's my mom's," Quinn explained, "She told me she didn't want me to have to buy any furniture. Then she lugged all of this crap up here."

"I like it."

Another silence.

"Here, sit down. I'll get us some water."

I stayed standing until he got back and put our waters on the table. Then, simultaneously, we sat back into the creaky sofa

I reached to grab my water. As I set it back down, I noticed a dusty stack of books behind the glass and on the oak coffee table. It's image was distorted by the water, making the different pastel colors twist and twirl together like a lollipop. I reached to pick one of the old books up, but instead knocked my glass of water all over the table and the floor.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" I blushed, hurrying to move the books and clean up the spill with the sleeve of my sweater.

Quinn swatted my arm away from the water.

"Don't worry, I've been looking for a reason to mess this horrid thing up anyways." he exclaimed.

"But it's not ruined," I tested.

"Not yet." And with that, a devilish grin came across his face. And with that, he ran into his room, and seconds later returning with thick gardening gloves and clear goggles.

I was so confused.

"What are we gonna do with those?"

"Oh, Winnie, Winnie, Winnie," He mock-chided, "We're gonna destroy this table if its the last thing I do."

Suddenly, Quinn tossed me a pair of each, and put on the remaining ones. Then, in a swift battle cry, he charged at the table with great ebullience. I heard a thunderous crack as Quinn landed in the middle of the table but continued dropping to the floor.

"That was AWESOME!" He laughed.

My eyes were still wide in suprise and confusion when he motioned for me to do the same. It took me a second to recollect my thoughts. Fumbling, I put on my goggles and gloves. I walked over to the split table with a rare amd ephemeral confidence. I let out a roar and attacked the wood. First, my hands found the legs, and with a strength I didn't even know I had, I ripped them right off and tossed them to the side. I knew my eyes were filled with manic and fury because Quinn was staring right at me with his jaw dropped. I blushed and dropped my head.

"Oh my god, Winifred, you are amazing." His voice was so mellifluous that I could feel a nearly unbearable heat on the back of my neck.

"Oh, um, I- er, it was-," I stuttered. But Quinn and I stayed in this beautifully summery moment, setting off a spark that we both knew would be the incipient of something big.

After a moment or two, I looked up and saw Quinn's gaze still on my face. The blush grew, and I had to break the silence.

"Now what are we gonna do with this table?"

Quinn's eyes refocused into reality, and he smiled.

"Oh. We should probably throw it away."

He grabbed a semi-transparent trash bag from the kitchen and together, we put the splintered wood into the plastic. The jagged edges conflated when they were dropped in, making them look like one oak-colored blob.

"Do you want to take me up on that movie now?" He said once the bag had been disposed of.

I giggled. "Sure, let's do it."

Quinn turned the TV on and we sat on the couch. We flipped through endless channels, various sounds and colors emerging from the TV. Quinn kept going, and at one point he gasped and turned a few channels back.

"Do you fancy Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone?"

"Yes! Oh my gosh," I breathed, "That was my favorite movie when I was little."

"Good. I like it too."

And there we were. Side by side, hand in hand, and somehow gathering up romance during a definitely not romantic movie. And things were good. 

Until my stomach grumbled.

"No," I groaned, "Ugh, not now."

Quinn laughed. "No, thats perfectly okay. I was beginning to get hungry anyways. Want to order some chinese take-out?"

We finished watching the movie when the doorbell finally rang. 

"Oh yes," I breathed as I leapt to the door.

Quinn made the payment, despite my protests, and we sat on the couch. It was a messy meal, due to the lack of a table, but we made it work. After dinner, I checked the clock, and realized it was 11 pm. 

"Oh god," I said, suddenly frazzled, "It's so late, I'm so sorry. I better get going."

Quinn sighed and stood up.

"I guess you're right. Unless you want to stay here for the night? Its pretty dangerous on the streets."

I froze. 

"Oh, um, I think I'm okay. But thank you for offering!" I rushed, completely ruining the perfectness of the day.

And with that last thought, I was out the door and running back to my home, regret and confusion clouding my mind.

Your'e and idiot, Winifred, I thought, tears making my vision conflate.

I didn't stop running until I reached my apartment. I swung the door open, slammed it closed, and sunk down against the inside of the door. I choked out a sob and felt my entire world crash down. I didn't know why I was crying or how long I cried for, but I eventually made my way to my cheap bed and fell asleep, blocking out every thought that tried to penetrate my mind.