Evangiline

Chapter Eleven- Would You Rather

I sat with Charles on the sofa, our bodies were far apart. Far enough in fact that when I stretched out my arms, I did not hit him.

"So... The way that I see our relationship is that-" he said beside me.

"Relationship?" I cocked my head.

Some small part of me was wondering why he did not already consider our make out session a "relationship". None of this was supposed to be real.  He confused me, hell, I confused confused myself.

"Yes... I thought we were..." he made a strange noise that sounded like a gulp, "together."

"You mean official? Like dating?"

"Well, yeah." He said.

I crossed my arms and legs. Then turned my body toward him. "Whats my favorite poem?"

"What?" he sounded startled.

"You need to know this. They might ask questions."

  "Okay is it 'The Raven'?"

  I bursted out laughing for what felt like five whole minutes.  "No. Its 'Nothing Gold Can Stay'. I do not like all that deep, gory shit. Well I do but Edger Allen Poe is too...weird for me."

He huffed and chuckled for only a second.

"What if they ask why you like me?" he asks.

I pondered that thought for a bit. "You're hot as hell."

  "How do you know?" he had humor in his voice.

I scoffed. "Rosy!" I yelled over my shoulder toward the kitchen.

"Si?" she answered.

"Is Charles ugly?"

It sounded like she came closer, maybe to the edge of the living room.

"No. He's like young Mario. "

"Mario?" I asked. "As in Mario and Luigi?"

"Lopez. Mario Lopez. He is 'andsome man. Strong body... nice smile." She replied.

"Me?" Charles piped up. His voice cracked a little.

"Si señior. You and Mario look same. Both just alike."

"Thank you." He said with a hint of embarrassment in his words.

  "Say the most corny thing you can think of."

Charles thought for a second then answered me. "If I could give you one gift, it would be for your to see yourself through my eyes. Only then would you see how absolutely beautiful that you are."

"Well it's not Christmas, so no gifts."I replied. He was being too corny.

He chuckled, vibrating the whole sofa. The movement reminded me of my hunger.

"Rosy! Get us some grilled cheeses!" I yelled.

"Ya know, you should really say please." Charles said.

I smirked. "Please!"

"Sí- I mean yes miss."she replied.

I leaned back against the hard sofa. The bad thing about expensive stuff is that it is rarely ever comfortable.

"So while we wait-" he started.

"No, I will not make out with you, Charles!" I joked.

"Okay..." His tone was condescending. "Let's play 'would you rather...'."

I placed my knotted hands on my bare legs and sat straight. "Alright you go first."

"Would you rather Coke or Pepsi?" He asked.

"Oh come on! Coke of course. Pick something exciting. Would you rather be death or blind?"

My question surprised him, I heard it in his faltering breaths.

"Well... I really can't answer that."

"Why not?"

"I don't know what it's like to be either, so it would be pretty hard to choose."

"Just pick one." I said in a serious tone.

"I...I guess blind so that I could see what you go through." He finally answered.

  "Nice answer. If we were really dating, you would be getting laid tonight."

  He sounded both surprised and excited.  "Really?"

  "Yep," I whispered. "Too bad this isn't real."

I knew that the choice would be tough, but I also had a feeling of which one he'd choose. I knew that he'd pick to be blind with me. Before I went blind, at parties I would ask questions like that without even thinking twice to see people reactions. Now there was no point.

Charles interrupted me from my nostalgic thoughts. "Would you rather live in Antarctica or Africa?"

"Antarctica. Definitely. That way I would not feel so bad because no one else can see through the snow blizzards."

"Good point. Your go." He said.

"Would you rather be rich and everyone hate you, or poor and everyone love you?"

Charles answered. "Poor and everyone love me. Money can't make up for love, or buy it, or make it. So I would ten times rather be poor. Plus everyone hates me now because of my dad and all."

Just then the thick, heavy smell of aged cheddar cheese on white wheat bread drifted into the room. My nose inhaled the rich aroma and made my mouth water. My hands instinctively reached out towards the noise of Rosy carrying the plates. That was fast.

"They smell amazing!" Charles lurched forward too.

Rosy carefully sat the small glass plate in my hands. The sandwich kept the plate streaming hot. I wanted to dive into it face first, but Charles was beside me probably staring at my wild animal like posture. Then I stopped caring and consumed it in five bites.