Language of Love

Domus

I give my "Welcome to Latin!" speech for the fourth time, living for the moments between classes when I can stare at Fitzgerald.

One my last class is over, I lean back in my office chair. I take my computer and scroll through the state Latin standards. There's a knock at my door, despite the door being wide open.

I look up, hoping to see Fitzgerald. Instead, Courtney stands at it.
"Come in," I say. She walks in, admiring my classroom decor.
"Hey, do you want to go school supply shopping? It's always funner with a friend!" She says. I laugh.
"I already went, sorry. I should finish reading these standards anyway." I say. She nods and turns away.
"Have fun with that."

Eventually, I shut down my computer and pack up for the day. I shut off my lights and lock up my classroom. I hear someone running down the hallway, behind me. I turn back to see Fitzgerald.

"Can I walk you out?" He asks.
"I don't see why not," I answer.

He walks with me down the hallway, making small talk. I wonder what he wants. Friendship? Romance? Sex? I'm not sure I'll ever know. His hand brushes up against mine and I totally overthink it.

He doesn't even acknowledge that it happened. I don't know why I've suddenly got this massive crush on the guy. Sure he's handsome, but I couldn't stop thinking out his eyes. They're brown, brown. My mind found some way to fall in love with his brown eyes. I suppose that's all I can really fall in love with now, I just met the guy. He seems nice and all, but I don't even know how he sees me.

We get to the office and he pulls opens the door for me. He follows me through the office until I hear my name. My full name.

"Graenia Marie Thorne!"
"Mother?" I say.
"Graenia!" She repeats.
"You're sober?" I ask.
"Yes, don't say that too loud." She says.
"How's Annabelle?" I ask.
"I don't know?" She answers.
"She's twelve! How do you not know?" I ask.
"I haven't heard from you in years, you turned out fine." She says.
"I'm 23, Anna is 12. Very different. What happened?"
"I think they put her in foster care. I don't know." She says.
"Mom, you've still got that trashy make-up on, you smell like cigarettes, this is the first time you've held a job in eight years, and you haven't spoken to either of your children in what, 6 years? I raised Annabelle, you didn't do jack. I trusted you with her when I left. And where is she now?"
"You did not raise that child!" She says.
"You didn't either, I was the one who had a job, paid the bills, made dinner, did the laundry. And what did you do? Drink and mope about Dad?" I say. I feel the tension of everyone else in the room.

I don't say any more. I walk out of the office and feel my face get hot. I sit down in my car and face plant into the wheel. I completely embarrassed myself in front of all of the office ladies and Fitzgerald.

There's a small knock on my window. I look up, Fitzgerald stands there, scanning me with those brown eyes. I roll down this window.

"What?"
"Let me take you home. You can't drive like that. I'll take you back here in the morning. It's not a big deal." He says.
"Look, I just met you. I shouldn't. I'll be fine in a few minutes." I say, wanting to jump in his car. I shouldn't, I don't know him.
"Here, call me if you need something. Especially, if you just want to talk." He says, handing me a paper with his phone number. He turns to leave and I lean back. I guess it couldn't have been that bad, he did give me his phone number.

After cooling off for a few minutes, I put my car in reverse and drive home. When pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex, I enter Fitzgerald's phone number into my cell phone.

       Once in my apartment, I walk out onto the balcony. I create a text.

       "Hey, it's Gray." I type out, I wasn't ready to send it, but my thumb slips. There is no going back.

        "Oh my god. She texted me!" I hear a voice say, a few balconies over. I wish Fitzgerald would be that excited over my text. I highly doubt he is. I hear my neighbor go inside to get advice. I giggle to myself, boys.

I look back at my phone and read the text Fitzgerald sent me.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I tell him I'm alright and that I appreciate him texting me. I hear the doors open, a balcony over.

"She said she appreciates me!" The voice says. It sounds oddly like what I had sent to Fitzgerald moments ago, so I peek my head out. To my amazement, I see Fitzgerald and two other men standing around the phone.

I lean back against the wall, hiding. Should I tell him? I want to know what he says about me, but I also have this fantasy of inviting him next door. After I get a text from Fitzgerald, I lean back out.

"Fitzgerald?" I ask. He turns around to face me.
"Gray? Do you live here?" He asks.
"Just moved in, actually," I say. He nods.
"Oh." He says, both of his friends already inside.
"Wait, go out your front door, I want to see how close we actually are," I say. He turns and leaves the balcony. I do the same.

       I see him stumble out from the apartment two doors down. I smile.

"Well, I suppose we don't have to text anymore. Can I come in?" He asks walking closer to my apartment.
"Sure," I say, wanting to trust him. He glances around my apartment as I shut the door.
"You haven't finished unpacking. When did you move in?" He asks, brushing off a box to his left.
"Saturday," I say. He nods and turns back to face me.
"Do you want my help? I don't mind." He suggests.
"That really isn't necessary, but thank you," I respond. He rolls his eyes.
"It's totally necessary, here what's in here?" He asks, choosing a small box behind him.
"Must be silverware, it says kitchen," I say. He nods and glances around.
"Do you have a box cutter?" He asks.
"Yeah, you really don't have to do this," I say pulling out the knife.
"I am being neighborly." He says.

He helps me put away the silverware and unpacks a few more boxes.
"Have you eaten dinner yet?" He asks.
"No, why?" I respond.
"Do you want to go get pizza or something?"

I look at his very handsome face, he's so perfect. Too perfect. I've got trust issues, to begin with, but something doesn't add up. There is no way a stranger looks that good, is that nice, and wants to get pizza. I'm so tempted to say yes.