362 days before.
After the talk with Grace late last nigh-or more so, early this morning-my mind has been buzzing. This morning I let myself think. She likes me, right? But do I like her? There are many ins and outs of liking Grace and if I did somehow happen to like or go out with her. Somewhere throughout my critical thinking, I pulled out my journal and made a list:
Pros...
-she's obviously fit
-the color of her eyes make me smile inside. (Even when they are in a fury)
-she gives you space (sometimes)
-she likes milk... What.
-this list is stupid.
Cons...
-she doesn't stay out of your business
-she asks a lot of questions (the nosy kind)
-she takes too long in the shower and leaves me with no hot water (technically this is the same whether I like her or not)
-she... I know nothing of Grace Hartman.
-why the fuck am I making a list. This is shit.
I tear the sheet from the leather notebook, crumbling the page and shoving it into The Can. I look back on the clock. I will have to get out of this room eventually. There is absolutely no more ways to procrastinate.
My door creaked as I opened it. So much for being quiet. I somewhat tip toe out and into the living area where I see Grace watching none other than Teen Mom 2. Does she watch anything other than MTV? God.
"Harry!" A sigh of annoyance falls helplessly from my lips as I, gawkily, turn to Grace. Her eyes were bright and had no makeup around them, her freckles showing more than usual.
"Yeah?" My hand fines it's way to the back of my neck scratching it as I slowly turn to directly face her.
"I have something to talk to you about." She stands from her spot on the couch approaching me.
"You do? It's not because of last night because-" I start lazily.
"Oh, no, no. I just wanted to ask you if you had spoken with your boss about a job for me." The hope in her eyes was undeniable as she played absentmindedly with a piece of golden hair. She looked so innocent.
"I'm sorry, no. We don't have any openings." I lie. Graces face falls and I start moving my eyes around the room out of discomfort, looking for nothing in particular.
"Oh, oh okay. Well, uh, thanks for asking I guess." With her head down and the saddened look in her eyes I kinda felt bad. But I was doing her a favor. She doesn't need to be working there; partying at The Blue Room was very different from working there. It was fun, no doubt, but it was... It's not... She's not ready for it.
"No problem." A pang of guilt strikes my chest but I try my best to ignore it. It's not as easy as I thought it would be, considering.
+
"Hey, love. What can I get you?" The blonde haired girl twirled a small piece of hair between her fingers and wondered her eyes across the menu behind me. Her eyes batted as her digit dropped the piece of hair, moving it to her lip.
"Um... What do you prefer?" Her voice was squeaky and her top was lower than it should be. Before I knew it, I was comparing her and Grace.
"I don't drink coffee." I deadpan.
"Oh," she seemed surprised. In the end the girl a passion iced tea. Before leaving, the girl grabbed my hand forcefully, her nails digging into my wrist;
Hot accent. Call me (xxx)-xxx-xxxx
-Maddie
I saw Maddie wink at me as I watched her pass through the door. I look down and smile at the small note on my hand before running to the back room and washing the girls writing off. What a whore move, giving your number out to random strangers. Not to mention it's not safe, I could've been a serial killer for all she knew-I'm not though. Either way, Maddie did not relieve a call. I had another girl on my mind for some reason.
+
"Your home late."
"I needed a drink." Ben plops down beside me on the couch, playing COD (even though I've best it twice, I was in the mood for something old) when he walked in. After work I visited Gem and talked to her about how confused I was, and them ask for help. I did not receive a reply, however, I was not expecting one.
"Work?" he nods, "Damn, man, you've been in so much lately I never see you." Ben runs his hands over his face. He works for some huge brainiac company that I couldn't pronounce if I tried.
"Well, thirty percent of the firm got fired, so I have first and second shift, which bleeds into third because I have so much shut to do. I think I might quit and go back to Blue Room, man. I can't stand this business shit. The bar was so much easier." Then he adds, "Pays not bad either."
"What about Sheila, or whatever the fuck her name is?" I turn my wrist with the controller as if that would make me do better.
"Eh, broke up with her-sniper on your left -like last week no you idiot your other left because I- behind that safe house -well work got in the way and -just give me the god damned controller if your going to make a shot that bad -she was a bitch anyway."
"Wait-" I throw a grenade at group of terrorist and jump behind a rundown car, "you broke up with- fuck- her or she broke up with -dammit -you?"
"Well..." he sighs, "She actually-fuck Harry, give me the controller!"
"No dude!" Ben reaches over to me but I move to the side and try to keep my eyes on the screen as he attempts to take the controller.
"Just give it to me," he reaches for it but I move again.
"No, I'm playing." He's distracting me.
"Yeah and you suck," Ben tries again but I use one hand to push him back. He doesn't give up.
"I would love for you to try to be as good as I am." I shoo him again with a harder push.
"What?- just gimme the-" Ben extends his arm to the controller as I move my hands away and strain to keep it away from him.
"Are you retards going to act like your twelve all night?" both of us stop in our awkward position and turn our heads to the sudden voice. I hear gun shots firing and my player groaning but I don't look away.
"I, uh, we..." why the hell am I stuttering?
"Shut the fuck up Grace and go paint your nails or some girly shit." Ben takes the black controller from my limp hands and resumes the game, but my eyes stay on Grace.
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