The Best is Yet to Come

Twenty Eight: Noah

"I don't understand why we can't just hire someone to come clean the place," Chris complains as he pushes our carriage down the empty aisle.

Various cleaning products are displayed neatly on the towering shelves surrounding either side of us. I scan the products, clueless, looking for anything that looks helpful.

"Because," I say, tossing a box of trash bags into the cart, "that involves money that we don't have."

"Ok, but your mom has the money... and she pays for everything else!" Irritation and annoyance build up inside me. Between him and the high pitched squeaking coming from the wheel on the carriage, my patience is starting to dwindle.

"I know that." I say steadily. "But it's not going to be like that forever. It's time we start taking care of ourselves." Does Chris want to be a mooch his whole life?

"Ok... but isn't your mother technically paying for this stuff?" He reasons, waving his hands towards the mountain of cleaning products in the cart. He picks up a red spray bottle, examining the label. "What even is this?"

Definitely annoyed now, I snatch the bottle from his hand and throw it back in the cart.

"Stop being difficult. We're going to go home and clean so that when Emma comes over she doesn't associate me with your disgusting way of living and leave me." I say and walk briskly towards the end of the aisle, stopping to look around. I scan the area for any other items we might need.

"I am not disgusting," I hear Chris mutter under his breath, but then his eyes widen when he processes what I've said. "Wait a minute!" he calls, and I cringe at the noise the wheel makes in protest as he pushes the cart after me. "You said you don't want her to leave you. Does that mean you guys are officially, like, a thing?"

Are we 'a thing'? We haven't put a label on what Emma and I have together but what was I supposed to do? It seemed a bit juvenile to ask her to be my girlfriend. We weren't in middle school.

I decide to feign ignorance, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Chris falls in place beside me with a smile. "Aww are you afraid she doesn't like like you?" He laughs.

I roll my eyes and cover a smirk. Oh, I know she likes me. She could barely take her eyes off me last night.

"I don't know what to call us. We haven't really talked about it." Chris follows me down another aisle and I pull a large bottle of bleach off the shelf and carefully place it into the cart.

"Well, what do you want?" he asks and I take a look at Chris's t-shirt and shudder. We'll have to stop at the men's clothing aisle to get him a clean outfit for tonight.

"I don't know yet," I lie, though I know exactly what I want and it scares me.

Chris looks dissatisfied with my answer and we continue our shopping trip in silence. When we pass the air freshener section, I throw one of everything into the cart.

"Well, let me ask you this," he starts, "How do you feel about the idea of Emma being with someone else?"

I stop in my tracks, taken aback by his words. My heart pumps in my chest and I feel something foreign: Jealousy? Panic? Whatever it is, I don't like it and I know by the look on Chris's face that he can sense my agitation. And just like an annoying best friend would, he pushes me.

"What about the idea of her kissing another guy?" He has an evil smile on his face. I can feel every muscle in my body start to tense.

I turn and glare at him, "We're done having this conversation."

"Why won't you just admit it?" He pesters, "Why not just accept the fact that you have feelings for her?"

I have accepted it. I've known something was different since the moment I saw her. I've never wanted anyone the way that I want Emma and I'm ashamed to admit that I'd probably take her any way that I could. She could tell me that she wasn't interested, that she only wanted a friend and I'd do it: rip out my heart and stand aside, as long as I could still be around her.

But the thought of her with another guy never occurred to me. I always assumed she felt the same about me and it would just work out. I don't know what I'd do if she didn't want me back. I'd respect her choice but it would hurt like hell.

What if I had to watch her kiss another... I stop that thought in its tracks. There's no reason to upset myself about that now.

I choose to feign ignorance again, "What makes you think I have feelings for her?"

Chris gives me a look that I usually reserve for idiots.

"Hmm.. let me see.." he lists sarcastically, "You were a pathetic marshmallow the day you came home from the bookstore. I've barely seen you in the last week because you're either sulking in your room or out with Emma. And we're at the store buying fancy soap even though you've never cared to clean the apartment for any other girl." Chris crosses his arms and looks at me with raised eyebrows, waiting for me to tell him he's right.

I look at him steadily for a few moments and sigh, defeated, "Ok!" I admit. "You're right. I like her. I like her a lot." I take the cart and lead Chris to the south side of the store, "That's why we're going to get you a new shirt and you're going to shower when we get home."

Chris looks at me with an incredulous look on his face, "Excuse me, I'm going to what?!"