C h a p t e r T h r e e

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I wake up before Scott and find Wyatt curled up on top of his chest. Through the curtain, I can see sunlight reflecting off of the thick snow blanket on the ground. The cold air reaches my cheeks quickly and I pull the blanket up over my face a little to preserve heat before standing up and stretching. The idea of coffee sounds pleasing enough that I sneak out of the room to the kitchen, where I plug in my decades old percolator and perk my coffee. I sit at the kitchen table texting Kirstie while I wait, so I don't hear Scott come in, but I break into a grin when I feel his arms wrap around my shoulders.

"Morning, beautiful." he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"Hi." I lock my phone and stand up, walking over to pour my coffee.

"Is this a new thing, where you just go around without your shirt on? Because I can definitely get used to that." I chuckle and sip my coffee.

"It depends. Shirts are annoying." He wiggles his eyebrows and I crack up, nearly spitting out the coffee in my mouth.

"Stop." I say, coughing and still laughing. "Do you want some coffee?"

"No. I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Let me know when you're done."

"Okay." He leaves the kitchen and I hear his voice echo down the hall, "We could just hop in together."

"Not today." I call back, sitting back down at the table and smiling along with his laughter. I go into the living room and stare at the baby grand piano, smiling at it. I think about how excited I was when we got it moved into this house when I was twelve, how excited Scott was. The piano had come from my great-great grandfather's house, somewhere in Italy. Milan, I think. It had been made in Milan and brought to my grandfather's house in America, and then it was given to my dad, and now it's here. I sit down at the bench and run my fingers over the yellowing keys. I close my eyes and try to remember how Scott taught me to do a scale. 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2, 1. I smile, proud that I remembered without him there.

"That sounded good!" he screams from the shower, and I burst into a fit of giggles.

"Thanks!" I shout back. I do the scale again, with both hands, then try to play one part of a duet I had heard Scott do what seemed like thousands of times. Heart and Soul, I think. It sounds pitchy and a little off, so I stop and take out my phone again. Wyatt comes and winds between my feet, letting out a screechy mew that sounds irritated. I look down at him.

"What do you want, cat?" I reach down to scratch his head and he hisses and scampers off. I do my best to hiss back and go back into the kitchen, suddenly remembering my coffee. I groan when I find Wyatt drinking it for me and push him off the counter gently. "Why?" I groan, pouring the still-steaming beverage down the drain and refilling the cup. Down the hall, I hear the water stop and the bathroom door creak open before Scott's footsteps descend up the stairs. My phone rings and I check the caller id. Unknown number. Curiously, I press the 'talk' icon and say, "Hello?"

"Mitchie?" He draws out my name and excitement flies through me so fast that I almost drop my coffee.

"Dominic fucking Martinez?!" I scream, covering my mouth as laughter spills from it.

"You know it girl!"

****

I sit on the couch talking with Dominic for nearly an hour that feels like years. After about twenty minutes, Scott comes in and sits next to me, playing with my hand. I try not to let it distract me, but every time he runs his thumb over the back of my hand, my words catch in my throat a little.

"Wait, you live where?" I say, eyes lighting up with excitement at the prospect of seeing my best-friend-since-I-was-born for the first time since senior year. I was even closer to him than Scott, which was pretty impressive, before we graduated. "There's no way. You're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not. Why? I thought you ended up in Key West. That's nowhere near here."

"Guess what?" I meet Scott's gaze and he chuckles, his smile making the settled butterflies rise in a flurry in my stomach. "I live, like, a mile away from you."

"Shut up!"

"I can't, honey! I'm not lying." Our excited speech starts overlapping with each other and I stop. In my silence, he says, "We need to meet up. It's been too long."

"Agreed, 100%."

"Where?"

"Starbucks?"

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Not tonight?"

"Sorry, I can't tonight."

"Why?" he whines.

"Because. How did you get my number?" I ask suddenly.

"Scott gave it to me. I'm happy for you, that you're with him."

"Me too." I say, lacing my fingers with Scott's. "Me too."

****

"What are we going to do today?" Scott asks from behind me, watching over my shoulder as I start working on a painting that I'm sending to a gallery that is 'seeking artists', as they put it.

"I'm doing this. What are you doing?"

"Can I stay with you?" I hum in agreement and he sits in a chair behind me. "Can we go out tonight? Like on a date? We haven't been on an actual date-date in a while."

"Sure."

"You sound really excited about it." he jokes. I stop what I'm doing and motion for him to come over. He walks over skeptically and tries to jump back as I swipe at him with my paintbrush. I catch his hand with my free one and get a green paint streak across his shirt.

"You know I'm excited. I'm always excited to go out with you." I say with a laugh as he looks down in mock disbelief. "That's what you get for joking about it."

"But Mitchie, this shirt cost me $500."

"You got it at a thrift shop for 50 cents." He rolls his eyes.

"50 cents wasted, then."

"If you says so. I'll let you work out all the details, I really do need to do this."

"Okay, Mr. Artist Man."

"That's Ms. Artist Queen to you."

"Whatever." He goes off to change his shirt and reappears a minute later, engrossed in his phone. "Where do you want to go tonight?"

"I told you, I'll let you work it out. Just remember that I'm vegan."

"I've been living with you for three years. I know that."

"Good, now shut up." He chuckles and I focus on my painting.

****

After five hours of sitting on a stool in front of an easel and working with paint, I am slightly sore and splattered with a lot of colors.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." I say to Scott as I stand up and stretch. "How should I dress for tonight?"

"Uh, nicer than jeans and a t-shirt, but not a tux."

"Okay, I'll see what I have." I walk over and stand between his knees, carefully placing my stiff hands on his shoulders. "Hi."

"Hi." I lean down to kiss him but he stops me.

"You're covered in paint. I'll kiss you after you take a shower."

"Ugh, fine." I groan playfully before walking out of the room.

****

Sorry about the late update, I just wrote most of this a little bit ago and I've been doing homework.

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