Kiss Off

Chapter 20

He pushes himself away from the wall when my eyes meet his. He doesn't bother saying anything and I wonder if he's waiting for me to explain myself, which I'm most certainly not going to do. Instead, he lifts his lips into a warm smile and tilts his head in the direction of the door.

"Ready to get out of here?" he asks, picking his sports bag up off the floor and slinging it over one shoulder.

I don't respond—not trusting my own voice—as I follow him out the door, through the halls, and out into the cool February air. He leads me to his vehicle and yanks open the dented passenger door of his deceased grandpa's 1979 Ford pickup. Cooper cherishes this piece of junk like it's carved from pure gold. He wasn't even close with his grandpa, but I suppose some people are just more sentimental than others.

"My house?" he questions, keeping conversation practically non-existent all the way to his home. I suspect it's his attempt at not overwhelming me with unnecessary dialogue.

"Want a snack?" he asks as we walk through the front door.

"Definitely!" I tell him. "And a Pepsi, if you have any. Or any sugary drink you've got."

He tells me to pick out a movie while he gets the food ready and then disappears into the kitchen. Nodding at the empty air where he once stood, I mutter an "okay" and make my way to the back of the house where his room is. I flick open his laptop and type in the same password he's been using since he was nine: P^$$wurd

I scour the internet for the perfect blend of humor and drama as I wait for Cooper. I've narrowed our choices down to three by the time he arrives. He throws a bag of Cheetos at me and a Pepsi before dropping down onto the bed beside me and positioning his laptop between us. I watch from the corner of my eye as he pulls a set of chopsticks from his pocket so he can eat his snack without cheesifying his fingers—which happens to be the best part about Cheetos, in my opinion.

"Sorry," he mutters. "We've only got one set of chopsticks, but you can use them if you want. I'm sure I can find some tweezers around here someone that would work just as well."

"Uh, no," I tell him as I watch him eat his snack the same way a Chinese man would eat noodles from a bowl. "I'm gonna let you keep your weird traditions all to yourself."

He shrugs, taking another bite and turning the volume up on the computer with the tip of one of the chopsticks.

"Okay, shhh." Bringing the same stick to his lips, he shushes me. "This movie is stupid," he informs me even though his attention remains glued to the screen.

I chuckle around a mouthful of chips but don't respond. We've never been the type to talk through movies. We prefer to stay fully submerged in the story without breaking it with senseless chatter. Questions must wait until the end; it's our policy since forever.

By the time the movie ends, Cooper is slouched down, his pillow scrunched up beneath his neck and tilting it forward in the most uncomfortable looking position. Our snacks are nothing more than hollow containers strewn around the bed, and I'm snuggled beneath his covers because the entire Jones family is what some might call, snowbirds. They thrive in the cold and it makes me miserable every single time I come over.

"You got that grey sweater around here somewhere?" I ask, eyes scanning Cooper's room in hopes of spotting it before he has to answer.

"Yeah," he nods, dragging his computer onto his lap in search of our next movie. "In my duffle bag." He nudges his chin toward it but doesn't take his eyes off his screen.

Cooper witnessed me having a complete meltdown just two hours ago, and yet, he hasn't even bothered to question me about it. Instead, he's pretending like nothing is out of the ordinary. Like our relationship hasn't been strained over the last few weeks. Like he never admitted to liking me. In fact, everything feels kind of normal, and I love it.