Yes Please || c.g. {complete}

"Do You Understand Me?"

43

.Carl.

She was being weird about us, and I just didn't want to think about it. I worried she thought we were just a summer fling; hot and heavy and short-lived. I really did love her though; I couldn't imagine any other girl making me half as happy as she did. And the thought of her being with another guy made me want to kill the hypothetical prick.

Labor Day weekend always signified the end of summer, which is why I always kind of found it to be a bullshit holiday. I wasn't going to let this weekend be the grand finale of our relationship. If she had any doubt in her mind that this was for real, I needed to set her straight.

"So there's stuff for spaghetti in the cabinets if you feel like that," Layla said shortly before dinner time.

I shrugged. "Sure, I like spaghetti."

She set stuff out and we began to work in tandem; I boiled water for noodles and she worked on making the sauce. We didn't say a whole lot, though we were standing right next to each other. Our hands brushed when we both reached for the salt, and we froze, smiling at each other. Layla grabbed the salt shaker and stuck her tongue out at me. She sprinkled some into my pot of water before putting a little in her sauce.

I turned and leaned against the counter to the side of the stove, looking down as I tried to find the words I wanted to say to her right now.

"Are you okay, baby?" Layla asked, still stirring her sauce.

I looked back up at her and just watched her for a moment with a small smile. She was so beautiful. Her skin was darker, her hair seemed lighter, her messy bun was lopsided on her head, she had no makeup on...she was perfect.

"What?" she laughed nervously.

I couldn't find the right words, and I didn't know why. I didn't know why I couldn't figure out how to tell her how much I loved her- her mind, her body, her face, her everything. How I couldn't imagine downgrading to another girl after her. I just smiled as I reached up to rub the back of my neck. "Nothing," I laughed. "Sorry. Must be tired from being in the sun all afternoon."

She gave me a suspicious smirk. "Whatever you say, Gallagher," she replied, returning her gaze to her pot on the stove.

.....

.Layla.

"Only if we let it." His words from earlier kept repeating in my head. Was that his way of writing off any future falling out? Did he think I wanted us to be over? Were we like Sandy and Danny at the beginning of Grease, on the verge of breaking off our intense "Summer Lovin'?"

I really, truly loved him. I knew I would be heartbroken if the intense passion we shared over the past few months were to fizzle out. How could I move on to someone after being so thoroughly and completely satisfied by Carl?

He stopped to stare at me while we were making dinner. Was he trying to figure out how to bring that possibility up gently? That 'it was great while it lasted, but with school and all...'

We finished making the noodles and sauce, and I served it on plates as he got us napkins and silverware and drinks. We sat down at the table and began to eat, both of us acting like we were on an awkward first date. I would look at him, and he would look at me, but each of us would suddenly be too shy to articulate anything we were thinking.

Carl was about halfway done with his pasta when he dropped his fork onto his plate, startling me a little.  

"I love you," he said, his face very serious.