New To Me (Phan)

Chapter 4

Phil and I began spending more and more time together. A lot of that time was spent filming and editing for our media class (which was quickly becoming my favourite class). Although I'd only known him for around two months, I already felt closer to him than I did with either PJ or Chris. And call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that the feeling was mutual.

There was just this infectious happiness that Phil carried with him wherever he went. He was constantly upbeat, constantly smiling and making jokes, just the most genuinely happy person I'd ever met.

So in other words, completely opposite to me. I had initially thought that that would be a problem. That our personalities would clash too much and I'd soon grow weary of the constant positivity but, oddly enough, I can never seem to get enough of it.

Without my consent his bubbliness seemed to rub off on me. I'm happier when I'm around Phil. I find myself smiling more, laughing more, talking more. The other day I literally started a conversation with a random person from my maths class for no reason whatsoever. Just to chat.

This wasn't me. But not going to lie, I didn't hate it.

"How on earth can one suck so badly at Mario Kart?" Chris asked incredulously one day. Another typical day of gaming with the 'Fantastic Foursome'. And we were indeed at Phil's house, as Phil had suggested.

"Hey! I'm not that bad," Phil whined as he finished dead last for the third time in a row. He was that bad. He lifted the controller to his mouth and pretended to bite it in frustration before throwing it to the floor.

"I don't get it! What am I doing wrong?"

"It's not a peaceful drive around a suburban neighbourhood on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Philip. This is Mario Kart. You need to be aggressive. Show no mercy," Chris said.

I snorted. "Phil's personality is too adorable for that. 'Aggressive' isn't in his vocabulary."
"I can be aggressive!" Phil crossed his arms defensively but his barely concealed smile indicated that there was no real hostility behind his actions.

"Oh really? You sure about that, Phil?"

Before I knew it Phil tackled me into the couch and began hitting me with one of the cushions. I laughed as I tried to shove him off. It was only until after Chris 'tsked' impatiently at us that Phil gave up on the attack. The midst of a Mario Kart tournament was clearly no time to be messing about.

Phil flopped back in his seat, his black hair ruffled and his cheeks flushed a light pink. He poked his tongue out at me and I rolled my eyes in return.

"You guys make such a cute couple," PJ remarked, eyes now glued back to the TV. "I'd ship it."

It was an offhand comment with no real seriousness accompanied with it, so I didn't think much of it. I looked over to Phil prepared to exchange a 'get a load of this guy' kind of a glance, except Phil didn't meet my eyes. In fact, he seemed determined to look in other direction besides mine. And his pink tinged cheeks had turned several shades darker.

I looked away, feeling my own face now growing warmer. "I'm going to go get a drink," I announced, hastily getting to my feet. "Anyone want anything?"

After a chorus of no's from Chris and PJ and a mumbled "there's filtered water in the fridge," from Phil, I left and headed to where the kitchen was.

The first thing Phil did when we all arrived was give us a brief tour of his house. It was a nice place. Nothing too big and fancy, which meant that it wasn't too difficult for me to remember where the kitchen was.

With my hand on the fridge door I looked over to the corridor leading to the bedrooms. I was also able to remember which one of those doors led to Phil's. He had pointed vaguely at each of the doors, summing up what lay behind each of them: parent's room, Martyn's room (which he then clarified as being the name of his brother), bathroom, laundry, and at last, his room. But he hadn't actually shown us inside.

I hesitated. Do I dare?

Though I doubted I'd be able to pull the 'I got lost' card, I figured that Phil was nice enough, and we were close enough, that he wouldn't get mad if he caught me snooping.

I threw caution to the wind and allowed my curiosity to lead me to Phil's room. It was indeed far more colourful than my own, although that's not that impressive a feat.

Posters covered the walls and the ceiling. Some I recognised from my own room, like the MUSE one hanging on his wardrobe. Others I can't say have ever graced the walls of my room, like the giant Sarah Michelle Gellar one pinned above his bed. I couldn't help but smirk at that one.

And the famous bed sheets. Not as skittle-y as Phil described, with squares saturated in different shades of blue and green, but just as bright as promised.

His desk was cluttered with an assortment of things, ranging from papers to CD's to little stuffed animals. I picked up a lion from amongst the mess and smiled as I turned it over in my hands. It was all so... Phil.

A picture frame caught my eye. It featured a younger Phil, probably around 12 or 13, with his arm draped across the shoulders of another boy, who I'm guessing was Martyn. Though this Phil had a rounder face and sported a dreadful bowl haircut, you could tell it was obviously him. His smile had stayed the same.

"The kitchen's back that way." I spun around suddenly, caught completely off guard. Phil was leaning against the door frame. My heart had jumped into my throat at his sudden appearance but I instantly calmed down when I saw his expression. He wasn't mad. He simply looked amused.

"It was the room with the fridge and the oven. You know, the one that you passed on your way here." He smirked.

Although relieved that he wasn't upset with me I was still embarrassed to be caught.

"Right," I said, the warmth returning to my cheeks. I made to leave the room when I remembered that I still had the lion in my hand. "I'll just...uh... put this back," I said awkwardly, placing the lion on the desk.

I could sense Phil's contained laughter as I walked past him into the hallway. "Shut up," I said, embarrassed.

Phil didn't respond. He just smiled goofily as he followed me back to the kitchen.