Speechless: REWRITTEN

13. Snapdragon

Roscoe

As I stare at the charm bracelet in my hands, and then look into my reflection in the bathroom mirror, the realization comes crashing over me again.

I really like her.

Here's what happened. On Mordecai's birthday, we were just having a good time at his apartment, messing around and whatnot. It seemed like she was super happy, so she was her overly extroverted, bubbly self that she's only really revealed to me once or twice since we've lived together. She lit up the room with her conversation and laughter, like a candle in a dark closet. Once she cut on the music, she dragged me up to dance, and at first, I was hesitant. I can't match her energy or enthusiasm. But trying to keep up with her made me feel something completely foreign to me.

I tried to figure it out that night. That heavy, syrupy feeling in my heart, the oddly pleasant nausea in my stomach, and this ray of sunshine hovering over my head, providing me warmth and light. It meant something to me, but I couldn't figure it out.

I let it go until yesterday. Yesterday morning, I finished a shower and went into the kitchen to find her trying to make pancakes, running her finger over the batter spoon and eating some of it. She noticed me with her finger in her mouth, and then threw the spoon into the sink, sheepishly greeting me before remembering that she still needed that spoon.

Then that weird moment that happened at the karaoke bar happened again. That silence, a standstill, like the world stopped moving. It felt like time stopped again and we were the only ones who could move. But it was only for a fleeting second, one moment.

I stared at her. At her delicately freckled skin, her bright ginger hair in a messy bun, tendrils falling around her face, her sharp green eyes focusing on the task before her, and her strong, but kind disposition. It washed over me, gentle at first, but then it felt like someone threw a stone at my head.

I really like her.

Now I don't know what to do with this information.

I don't know, a good place to start would be to ask her out.

I sink my hands in my face. You know it's bad when you're having full on conversations with your conscious. And it doesn't understand how much I can't do that. First of all, me asking Gianna out unprompted would raise a red flag, and she's a perceptive little one. She'd catch onto me fast. Second, even if I were to ask her out and she didn't think twice about it, she'd never know that I knew I'd get an guaranteed 'yes'. And I don't feel comfortable doing that to her.

I have to tell her the truth. But when? How? I can't just come out and say, 'hey, I sort of knew you had feelings for me since Thanksgiving, and through my own personal observation and research, I have decided that I, too, have feelings for you. Date me?' I'd get a high heel bootie up my ass.

But there's no other way to do it. So I concoct a plan to make it as painless as possible. What's more unexpected, yet romantic than a kiss on New Year's Eve at midnight?

However, I have to get through Christmas first, which is tomorrow. So I shove the charm bracelet in my pocket and continue with today's festivities. Gianna found a Festival of Lights in Queens where members of the community set up a fun house of sorts made of Christmas lights and décor within a singular road through a park. You can imagine that once Gianna saw this, she absolutely had to go. We spent the day decorating our own tree since we just found time together to do so, and then when night falls, we get on the road.

After working in a department store for most of my teenage years, I've grown an immense hatred for Christmas music. But Gianna plays it loudly in the car just to spite me, but despite the dirty looks I continuously throw at her, there's a sort of charm to the event. Like this just seems so us. Her singing Christmas music and me resisting the urge to sing along with her.