troubled | e.d.

thirty-nine

ethan

a week. a lousy week until possibly the worst day of my life. hargrove and richard have been working nonstop and tell me they have some pretty good defense, but i don't know if it's enough to outargue the best lawyer in the south.

my mom and brother come in four days, and even tessa has been distracting herself from the threat of me possibly going away for twenty-five years by talking nonstop about the most random things.

yesterday she had a full on conversation with me about how the meatballs in spaghetti make the meal go from a 10/10 to a 6/10. i just nodded and smiled the entire time.

she's hiding something. i can tell by the way her mouth blabs at nonstop speeds and the only thing i can do to stop it is kiss her, but obviously that can't be done constantly throughout the day.

"tess," i interrupt her speech about how creepy grasshoppers are as we split a soft pretzel sitting outside the mall on a bench.

she looks to me, about to take a bite. "what?"

"i think it's really um... cute that you're so passionate about your irrational fear of insects..." i decide to say slowly, drawing out each syllable. "but it's giving me anxiety."

tessa laughs, dipping a part of the pretzel in some cheese sauce. "why?"

"because you're worried."

"how can you tell?"

i tilt my head as if to ask 'really?' and reach out to brush some salt off her cheek.
"because i know you."

and i love you.

but obviously that doesn't get said out loud.

i don't think i ever could've pictured myself falling in love with someone before having sex with them, but i'm glad it turned out this way. when she's ready, it'll just make it even better.

she smiles a little, her hazel eyes lighting up. "i'm that easy to read, huh?"

"i know when you're nervous because you never stop... moving," i say. "it's like you could run a mile in heels if i tried to restrict your speech."

she wrinkles her nose. "i don't like wearing heels."

"then don't wear them."

rolling her eyes, tessa replies, "thanks. i'll try it sometime."

i laugh and fix a strand of her hair that's escaped from her loose braid down her back. my eyes scan down her body at her outfit that consists of micro black and white buffalo check pants, and a plain black shirt tucked in, along with some gold necklaces.

"did i tell you that you look nice today?" i genuinely ask, forgetting if i did or not.

"you tell me that everyday, silly," she rolls her eyes again, this time playful as she reaches for more of the pretzel.

it's true. devin (the 23 year old accountant) has made a tally board every time i compliment her and he hears it. we spend most of our time around his desk when we make copies, so he always hears everything. he makes a big show out of uncapping his marker and squeaking it against the white surface as he draws the hard tally mark.

i'm up to 20 tallies.

and it doesn't help that at the very top it's labeled:
how many times ethan drools over tessa at the copy machine

humiliating.

she thinks it's hilarious, but i get the heat for it in the break room.

it slightly hurts when 40 year old virgin paralegals who sleep in their mom's basement call you names, because who the hell are they to talk?

"you have an outfit set for your trial?" she asks nonchalantly, avoiding my eyes.

i raise my eyebrows. "should i?"

"i do."

i reach my hand out, forcing her to chin to me and her eyes look nervous when they meet mine.

"how many times do i have to tell you that you won't be there."

"ethan..." she whines quietly. "i need to be there."

"no you don't," i say firmly.

"why not?"

"you don't need to be there for possibly the worst day of my life."

her face saddens. "please."

"nope," i decide, gathering our trash and beginning to stand up off the bench.

"what if... what if i don't get a proper goodbye to you!" she calls out after me as i walk to the trash can. "i'm not saying it's going to happen— because it won't— but what if it... does."

"tessa," i say, turning around and stepping close to her. "i'm going to make sure i say goodbye to you, no matter what the turn-out may be."

she looks at least a little relieved, but still so, so anxious.

"i've done his three times before," i reassure softly. "and each time i've won. what's different here?"

"the charges are much more..." she gulps. "severe."

"and that'll just make the victory ten times sweeter."

tessa smiles a little, reaching out to hug me. i throw the stuff in the trash before gratefully accepting the hug and giving her the warmest, tightest one i can muster up in return.

"ethan, i—" she starts to say, then abruptly stops herself.

my eyebrows knit together as i pull away slightly.
"you what?"

her eyes look wide, glazed over.
"n-nothing."

"no, say it."

"i forgot," she says, but i can tell it's the lie of the century.

if you say it i'll say it back, i silently urge in my head. although i'd really not like to confess my first love in a mall parking lot.

assuming that's what she was going to say, i guess.

but by the way she goes back to hug me,
i have a feeling it was.