North & West

Twenty-Two

I'd started to think of myself as more of a person who lived by the phrase, “carpe diem,” rather than someone who threw their life away each time they were struck with a particularly reckless whim. The two things seemed at least a little different to me.

My mother was really putting a damper on that carefree and self-secure sort of attitude outlook when she handed me a plate of cookies – the ones with huge chocolate chips – and insisted that I bring them to West for a surprise visit.

Of course, I argued with her, telling her that I was most definitely not bringing a plate – wrapped in ribbon, as if it wasn't bad enough already – to the Monroes just because she was trying to set me up with West.

She really was trying to set us up, only getting stronger with her attempts and more obvious each time. It would have been funny to watch her spend hours in the kitchen baking sweets for someone to conveniently drop off at the house of another's, if it wasn't for the fact that I was the piece in her matchmaking game.

I wanted to tell West about it, but I was too uncomfortable to admit that not only did my mother want us together, but I wanted it almost as badly, if not more.

I continued to back away from her, trying to keep my distance from her and the cookies until she finally cornered me by standing in front of the door and refusing to move unless I took the cookies. She even said she'd be making a call to West's mother in twenty minutes to see if I'd shown up.

With a groan, I took the cookies from her, giving her a rather unamused glare before stepping outside. I struggled to balance the cookies in one hand as I lit the cigarette between my lips with the other. The nicotine didn't seem to be doing it for me anymore, not as thrilling as it had once been.

It took three cigarettes in the place of what had once been one, which made sense when I thought about how my health teacher in high school had talked about tolerance. The more a person had of something, the more they grew used to it and the more they needed of it.

I wondered if that was how it was for me with West, if I'd grown a tolerance for him and would only continue to need more.

I stood across from West's house on the other side of the street, my cigarette still pressed between my lips and the cookies beginning to feel heavy under my arm. I was glad that my mother had put them in a container and wrapped them up, otherwise there would have been a sidewalk full of fresh chocolate chip cookies.

When I finished my cigarette, not wanting to bring it across the street and into West's house, I threw it to the ground and crushed it a bit beneath my shoe. I wanted to stand on the corner for a little while, smoking as many cigarettes as I felt was needed until I felt like I'd had enough – maybe then the urge would go away altogether, although unlikely – because something was gnawing at the pit of my stomach like I subconsciously knew something was wrong.

Deciding that it was just a misread vibe, I waited for the car coming down the lane to pass before I crossed the street. I climbed the steps and knocked on the door, smiling a little when Mrs. Monroe's face lit up upon seeing me like she always enjoyed my visits.

I saw Krissy walk past her, probably checking on her mother and whoever was at the door, and she paused when she saw me. “Hey, North.”

I smiled, stepping past Mrs. Monroe when she stepped aside and gestured for me to go inside. Since Krissy was standing nearest to me, I handed her to cookies, turning halfway towards Mrs. Monroe when I said, “My mother wanted me to give you guys the fresh cookies she baked.”

She smiled, taking the cookies from Krissy and starting to untie the ribbon. “Your mother is such a nice woman, and from what I can tell, you're much like her.”