truce // scomiche

0.3

0 . 3

P A I N T J O B S

Scott and I sat on the old swing set in his backyard. As we swung, the only sounds were the rustling of fall leaves and the squeak of our weights testing the strength of the twenty-year old structure.

"Hey, babe, you doing okay?" I questioned, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah. Just feeling kind of down."

"I know. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

He looked at me and I felt an intense wave of love and sympathy for him. His tall, slender frame sat hunched over on the swing, barely swinging. Winter was an especially hard time for Scott, and it was brutal for me because I knew there was nothing I could do to help him.

"I like being with you. That helps," he finally said, a small smile appearing on his face.

I couldn't stop the smile that crept over my face as well, "I like being with you too, honey."

"Do you want to go on a walk?" he quietly asked

"Always."

We slowly walked down our street, no other people in sight. Suddenly, Scott stopped. He pulled me into a tight hug, resting his chin on my head. He took a deep breath, shuddering. I squeezed him as tight as I could, never wanting to let go. I took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of Scott. It was home to me. He finally pulled away. He held my face in his hands, and his voice broke as he said, "Thank you. For always being there for me... and for always caring,"

I smiled at him, letting my hand grab his arm gently, "Anything for my you. You're my best friend in the whole world."

"Love you."

"Love you more," I said grabbing his hand as we walked on.

___________________

"Honestly, just go to your room. You're in my way. Unless you want to serve cake and lemonade to fifty teenagers," my mom said as she cut a monstrous chocolate cake, clearly stressed out. It was Jessica and Lily's fourteenth birthday party and their parties had always dressed mom out. (They were not exactly low maintenance people.)

"Come on Mitch. I'll keep her out of your hair, Nel," Scott said, steering me upstairs by the shoulders, "I bet your mom is glad to have me as your babysitter," he said. I playfully slapped him on his arm.

___________________

I leaned my head against Scott's shoulder as we sat on the hardwood floors of my bedroom, defeated. Only five or so kids were sleeping over, so I had impulsively decided to paint once the house was mostly clear. I wanted to paint it white, but after two coats of the entire room, the navy blue was still visible. I had also neglected to take down some heavier art pieces which was proving to be a very stupid decision. It was almost exactly like when Spongebob painted Mr. Crabs house without removing the paintings. Similar stress levels, similar stakes.

"We'll need like, a million coats to cover this." I said.

"Let's try one more." Scott said, standing up, grabbing his paint roller. I rolled my eyes at his forced optimism, but ultimately joined him.

It ended up taking a total of five coats of paint to cover my room, but I was thrilled with the result.

"It looks great. You should come paint my room next," Scott stood with his hands on his hips, admiring our work.

"Only if you pay me."

"Oh? And what might your hourly rate be?"

"Ten thousand dollars."

"An hour?" he asked, clarifying.

"Yes. My wall painting skills are wanted across the globe."

"Okay, that seems fair."

"Now I need food," I said, running downstairs to the kitchen. I opened the fridge to find it almost bare because of the party, "We have no food in this entire house."

"Well then let's go," Scott said, reading my mind.

We drove through a fast food place, perfectly content to eat in my car.

"Hey, so remember a few months ago when we were playing truth or dare?" Scott asked me.

"Yeah."

"Well, uh, you asked me if I liked anyone. I said no, remember?" he reminded me, "Well my answer has changed. I like someone now."

"Who is it?"

"I'm obviously not going to tell you. I just, uh, thought you should know."

"Scott!" I exclaimed, hitting him with my empty bag, "You can't tease me like that!"

He shrugged, smirking.

"Do you want to come back to my house? My whole family is gone," he asked after a moment of silence.

I wiggled my eyebrows and replied, "Sure." I put the car in drive and I drove off to his home.

___________________

Scott plugged his iPhone into the speaker, Spotify's Today's Top Hits playlist blasting in his kitchen. He danced around as he made us (himself) a bowl of popcorn. We had just eaten but he insisted that he was hungry again.

I picked up his overweight, old cat, using him as a dance partner while Scott ate.

"Oh, Wyatt, you'll always be there for me, won't you?"

Scott rolled his eyes. For some reason, he hated Wyatt. A common theme among cat owners, I noticed.

After a while, a slow song came on. Scott walked up to me, holding out his hand a bowing, "May I have his dance?"

I curtsied while laughing and tossing down the cat, "You may, kind sir."

He took my right hand in his left, his arm snaking around my waist, holding me close to him, our chests flush. I rested my hand just on the nape of his neck, my head finding a home in his strong shoulder. The warm scent of his cologne was all too familiar. I was safe. He hummed along to the song, and his chest vibrated as he did. We slowly made our way around the island in his kitchen and I couldn't keep the smile off of my face.

Scott was my best friend. I had known him for my entire life, but in that moment in time, he felt like more than that. As his hand gripped my waist and my hand lay in his, him holding it tight, I thought that maybe, just maybe, that person he liked could have been me.

A/N

thanks for reading !!!!! <3 <3

MUSIC: younger now- miley cyrus

-lucille