The Stars, The Moon, And You

Pancake Party

        When I feel confused or stressed or anxious I have a tendency to stress uke.
    Strumming random chords in random patterns that make no musical sense at all. I've been doing this a lot for the past three days and it's so weird to think that it's only been three days since it happened.

    I still feel the electricity that went down my spine that night sitting on a driveway that wasn't mine, with chalk smeared on my face and another face that wasn't mine, on mine. Susan's face. A face so open but so closed off, I thought she would think I was some sort of creep after what I said, but I had to say it because I knew I would hate myself in 3 years if I didn't take the risk.

    I still feel her lips on mine. I can't help but wish they were there now. I was so surprised when it had happened. After the kiss I ran back to my house, not saying goodbye. That was about a week ago. I haven't seen her since.

    I hear a string pop on my ukulele and I notice just how hard I've been strumming it, endless chords asking for it to fix my life.

    There's only one way that I can fix this though, and sadly my ukulele can't do it for me.
    Then I'm pacing the kitchen, my phone in hand rehearsing what I'm going to say.

    "Hi, This is Lee. I wanted to talk about the other night." No. That would be too straightforward.

    "Hello, I wanted to discuss our relationship." Too buisinessy.

    "Hi, how's your driveway?" Way too weird.

    I start dialing  the numbers of her home phone. Sitting on a chair and taking a deep breath, I listen to it ring. The ringing is always the worst part of a phone conversation, you never really know if they will pick up.. After awkwardly talking to her mom, she told me she'd pass the phone to Susan.

    A sigh sounds on the other end. She probably hates me. "Hi."

    I take a deep breath, drawing in all of my energy and confidence, before surprising myself."Do you like pancakes?"

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    If I had a spirit animal it would probably be a pancake. They aren't animals but they are beautiful and right now I was flipping some in a pan on a sunday morning, like I usually do.

    I hear the doorbell ring and I know it's Susan. I try to finish the pancake I was flipping as fast as I can but it ended up folding over itself and disappointing me and the rest of it's pancake ancestors.

She's standing on my front steps and I can barely believe it's her, she's wearing a sweater the exact colour of her purple hair and jeans. She isn't smiling.

"I'm glad you came." I say but I immediately regret that and the awkward silence that pursues

I guide her to the kitchen. "I'm not quite done yet." I say, getting back to my pancake that was burning in the pan. "You can grab some orange juice if you want."

A thin smile spread across her face, polite and pointlessly fake. "Okay."

For the next three minutes it was silent other than the sizzle of pancake batter on the pan.

Then finally. She said something. "How are you?"

I close my eyes for a second, the heat of the stove warms my face. 'Big risk equals big reward.' I remind myself thrice before saying. "Im.... confused mostly." I flip another pancake.

"Me too." Susan sighs. "I'm sorry."

I pour more batter into the pan. "I feel stupid, but I also feel happy."

I hear a chair creak as Susan shifts her weight.  "Same here."

"Was it a mistake?" The words blurt from my mouth like they needed to be said. Because they did really need to be said.

Susan  is silent for a while. "I don't think so."

I don't know what to say, or think. I wish I could pick up my uke but I didn't replace its string yet and I was busy with important pancakes.

"It just... felt right, I guess." Susan says. "I think what you said was true."

I top off the tower of pancakes I was making, pick it up, and turn around to her. "You know I wasn't talking about the symbols." A statement. Not a question.

I set the pancakes on the table and start laying out syrup silverware and paper plates. We have some actual plates but for some reason it's a tradition for me to use paper ones for pancakes.

"You were talking about the symbols, but you were also talking about who they represented." Susan said.

    "Us." I take a pancake and smother it with syrup.

    Susan takes three. "Us."

    We sit in silence for a second. Not an awkward one, but a good one. One that often comes with pancakes. Pancake peace.

    I finish my pancake, and take another one, and start smearing butter on it. "Are we...?"

    Susan looks up, her eyes seem to open up for the first time since the came inside. "Should we be?"

    "What will people say?" I use syrup to draw a smiley face on my pancake.

    "Whatever they want to." I feel a warm hand, Susan's warm hand, covering mine.

    For a long time none of us do anything but look at each other. Knowing that nothing would ever be the same. Both excited and scared.

    Finally I stabbed my fork into my pancake like a monster about to eat a child.

    "It was such a happy pancake...." Susan says.

    "Now it's making me happy."

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A.n
Oi, this is the part where I talk.

I know I said I'd update this biweekly but I've been writing and brainstoring these stories all summer so I have a decent stockpile. So yeah, I'll be updating more than that this week... Not entirely a bad thing <3

(also no one is reading this so I'm talking to myself... Hi)