Alleyway BxB

XIX (Arugula Pesto)

FRIDAY, 12 OCTOBER
MARCELLO LOCKHEART

"Surprise!"

Nathan stared at the tray on the blanket, leaned in closer just to read what I had spelt out. "Is... is that pasta?"

"Arugula pesto pasta. Ryder told me it was your favourite and if he's wrong then I'll throw it at him when he gets back here," I said with as happy as a tone I could produce for such a threatening line. "Do you like the extra touch?"

He moved back again and stared at it for longer like he wanted to see it as a whole. "1 week," he read--eyes squinted and head slightly askew.

"Yeah..." I moved around to where he stood so I could view my masterpiece in the same angle and distance as he did. "I was going to write it on a little flag and stick it into the pasta, but I figured I could be extra and spell it out with the pasta." And that was exactly what I did except I had run out of room on the plate. It was a giant plate too. The 1 was fairly wonky and I had forgotten to wipe off some excess pesto beside the w. The green splotch was glaringly obvious amid the pristine white ceramic glazing.

"I love the effort." He hooked me in by the waist. "You should send a photo of it to Rosina. See what she thinks of it," he jokingly told me before laying a quick peck on my cheek.

I scratched the back of my head and scrunched my face with uncertainty. "Oh, she'll love it... Well, have a seat!" I pulled him down onto the picnic rug with me.

The rest of the house was inside and surely spying on us through the window of an upstairs room; the football boys had gone to play a game at a distant school; and apparently Beaumont had a game on their campus too, so Matt had gone to watch Aiden and his friends play. Nathan seemed quite upset at not being able to go, so I threw together a makeshift date for our first minor milestone.

After all, it hadn't been an entirely gracious week for him.

"The son of a world-renowned chef can cook quite an attractive meal," he teased.

"Only the finest for my man." Crawling over to the pavement by the grass we were on, I yielded a lighter from my back pocket to light a few already half-melted candles. Cinnamon had never done me wrong in the past and I hoped a wax form didn't hinder the lucky streak. "A week with me is a week of quality pasta bowls."

"But this is the first pasta bowl you've made me."

"Then I'll make you another one tomorrow." I slipped into the seat across from him where I left my own plate. "I was going to bake you a cake but I know you're still on your football diet." And he had to keep those abs somehow. They were far too pleasant to lose. What was I going to hold onto during the night if they went? I couldn't just hold onto my own.

It was a shame I had to limit our date to a mere picnic in the backyard when I had so much fun stupidly competing with him in the gym back in Monarch. I wanted to get out with him, force him to do the crazy stuff I had always wanted to do for a date--stuff that only Corbyn would have been willing to do alongside me: like spar in the cage or go out for paintball. I heard there was an axe throwing place close by too. This was the first time I had someone as big as I was, and I wanted to push our limits together. But I was willing to wait. He'd be back to his full potential by the time I came back from New York.

"What do you see in me?" He asked, eyes still glued to the barren night sky.

I stared up at them with him until I eventually moved on to the dying flames of my cinnamon candles. "Why do you ask?"

"Because there's nothing about me you should have ever pursued," he grumbled. "May I remind you of how we met?"

Picking my head up from his shoulder, I frowned. "May I remind you that Zach is a persistent and stubborn little shit?" I retorted to try and lighten the mood, and it worked--only slightly.

The corner of his mouth lifted and he exhaled a sharp breath. "You would have left me otherwise."

"You don't know that," I told him even when I knew he was probably right, but if I had managed to fall for Sarah, Nathan wasn't too far out of my range. "You had all the girls falling for you, I could have totally jumped on the bandwagon."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. I don't deserve you. That's the base line."

"You don't know you're own worth. That's the base line." There was still so much I had left to discover about him; his secrecy was near bizarre yet alluring. "Your family situation is one thing but I'm sure you have a few good hidden quirks."

"I got kicked out of the lacrosse team for having too much extra curricular?"

"Other than sport, Nathan." Everyone knew he could play sports.

"I sketch sometimes... not as good as Matt, though."

"Remind me to look at them."

"Oh, the council is forced to do these stupid group dances at our talent shows.  Apparently, I'm good at it."

Ooh. "I like that." I sat myself up beside him so I could get a better view of him. "For future reference, when is it so I can check my schedule?"

"It's in August, don't even worry about it." Slowly, he moved himself over so his head was rested comfortably on my lap. "We were going to ask you and Cells to be judges anyway. The school wants to hold onto you guys for as long as possible."

And I didn't mind if they did. The kids in the drama classes were enthusiastic about working with Marcella and I and it was refreshing to be in such a positive environment every day. However, whether or not we were going to stick around after everyone graduated was another decision for a later date. It really depended on our schedules, and I was still yet to sort out my other hobbies.

We never moved from the picnic blanket on the grass, but we had become a lot closer; so much so that the blaring alarm and sudden vibration from beside us wasn't enough to break me away from the knot we managed to form between us.

There were only so many different types of alarms in the world--one to match each business contact I deemed important enough. My manager's ringtone was high pitched and ear-piercing like one of those alarm clocks with the bells on top. I swiped to answer the call but couldn't help but grumble at the distraction.

"Marcello, I apologise for calling at such a time in the evening. Did I interrupt anything?"

"No," I lied. Carefully, I balanced the phone on the side of my head so I move that arm around Nathan again. He was half-way to falling asleep, but the damn ringtone woke him up. "Is this important?"

"I'm just delivering an update about your flight to New York City on November 5th. Corbyn will be accompanying you on the trip, correct?"

I hummed as a confirmation. We were flying on a regular plane instead of a private one. Maybe there was a change in seating.

"We're going to need you to get ready now. I spoke to the producing and directing teams and they've decided to push the process forward to be done by Christmas."

"I'm sorry what?" I gripped the phone again because it nearly flew off by how fast I picked my head up. "How early?"

There was a brief silence from Joseph on the other line and only his rapid speed typing could be heard. "October 21st. Sunday night at 11 p.m. from LAX."

It was my job and it had been for my entire life. Rapid and unexpected schedule changes were fairly common and I always did a great job at keeping up with them. But my mouth had dry at the news and a sense of guilt washed over me.

Nathan stared back at me with a confused expression in response to my remorseful one.

The game was on November 2nd, and the dance on the 3rd.