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The Hills is playing on the TV and Calum is asleep on the sofa, his body lying between my legs and my hands running through his hair. I hear footsteps accompanied by the rustling of keys and a moment later Emma comes into the living room. "I'm going to see Luke."
"OK," I nod as I rip my eyes away from the television screen. "Can you hand me the nail polish on the kitchen counter?"
"Sure." Emma walks over and hands it to me. "We painted our nails last night, why do you need it?"
"I'm gonna paint Calum's nails."
"I think red will go nicely with his hair."
"I was thinking the same thing," I beam. "Have fun with Luke."
"I'll try," she drawls. "Bye, Skittle."
"Bye, Emma." After Emma leaves the apartment I tend to Calum's nails, carefully swiping red across them. He sleeps through it, and he sleeps through letting it dry as I turn my attention back to the TV, rolling my eyes every time Spencer says something stupid.
I feel Calum stirring and soon my eyes meet his tired ones. "Hey."
"Sleep good?" Calum nods before lying his head down on my stomach again. I notice him freezing up and then lift a hand up to his face to inspect my work.
"Did you paint my nails?"
"Yeah."
"Sweet." He leans up and pecks my lips. "You know I can't wear it to work tomorrow, right?"
"Kitchen protocol is no fun," I pout. "You know, if you had your own restaurant you could wear whatever you want."
"Scotty," he whines. "It's just not the right time. We're done talking about this."
"But I know this is what you want, Calum," I press. "Why are you so scared to go through with it?"
"I'm not scared," he sighs, and he pushes himself up to sit. "There's a whole fucking lot that goes into it; real estate, staff, money. Both Ashton and I decided we're going to wait."
"I guess you're right." I gnaw at my bottom lip. "I'm sorry—it's just, I know how cheesy this sounds but I want the world for you. You've been through hell, and here you are; this amazing person who does everything right despite it all. I just think you deserve the world that's all."
"What more could I possibly need when I have you?"
"Your own restaurant."
"Scotty."
"Calum."
"You're so annoying."
...
The river is still and I listen to my phone ringing in my ear as I walk along the waterside. "Skittle, it's so nice to hear from you!"
"Yeah, you too, dad."
"Your mother told me you're not coming home for Thanksgiving this year."
I sigh. "Yeah, I'm just doing Friendsgiving here in the city."
"If you change your mind just call your mother, yeah?"
"Uhu."
"How's the dating going?" he asks me. My parents both read my column rather religiously, which made me feel extremely uncomfortable when I first started out. "I really liked the part in the last issue about the guy with the spray tan rivaling that of Donald Trump. That was a nice touch."
"Thanks, dad," I laugh. "I'm seeing someone. I've been seeing him for a while actually."
"He got a second date?"
"And a third, and a fourth. We've been going out for a couple of months now."
"So when are we meeting this guy?"
"I haven't told mom yet, and I would like for it to stay that way for a little longer."
"My lips are sealed."
"Thanks."
"What's his name?"
"Calum," I tell him. "He's a chef."
"I hope he's teaching you how to cook. When I went to visit you last time all you had were noodles."
"We cook together sometimes. I cut the vegetables."
"Maybe I'll come down so I can meet him sometime."
"That'd be nice, dad."
"And about your mother, I won't mention it to her but you know she might as well have our phones tapped because she has a way to figure out just about anything."
"I'm just worried she'll scare him away."
"She means well." I sigh knowing he's right. "She just doesn't want you to turn into us."
