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When Finn returned from the bathroom, he sat in his spot on the sofa and I positioned myself between his knees on the floor, and nothing else happened. He may have murmured something wildly inappropriate in my ear under the guise of leaning forward to grab his drink from the coffee table. And I may have retaliated by using his legs as support when I stood up to get a drink, holding his thighs slightly higher than necessary. But for the rest of the evening I kept my hands to myself, and so did he. When we said goodbye, we hugged for less than a second, and it was almost comical how chaste it was.
What’s he doing right now? Is he waiting for a text from me the way I’m waiting for one from him? What would I even say if I sent one?Hey bud, thanks for last night, it was fun. I reckon I’ll spend the rest of my life comparing every other man’s mouth to yours though, lol. Anyway, see you on Tuesday!
But last night is only the tip of the iceberg. Everything from the past couple of months sends me reeling. He’s leaving. Isn’t he? Some selfish part of my brain hopes he won’t get that job in San Francisco. What will happen if he does? What will happen if hedoesn’t?
Thoughtful, considerate Finn, telling me things that make me believe I might be made of magic. Things that make me think there could be something worth wanting, some joy at the end of thetunnel to run towards. That make me think I could try. I’ve never considered it before, but a seed of possibility grows roots and I wonder what it would look like to let the light in.
‘Are you making drinks or did you just rouse me from my slumber for no reason?’ a gravelly voice asks from the sofa, and I realise the kettle stopped boiling ages ago.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’ I grab a second mug from the cupboard and make both of us a drink. ‘You’re usually dead to the world when you sleep.’
I bring our mugs over to the coffee table—tea for me, coffee for Max—and, for fear of unleashing Josie’s wrath, find coasters for both. Max gets my new one from pottery class.
He must be sweating, but he pulls the duvet tighter around himself as he raises to a half-seated position with a grunt. ‘I haven’t been sleeping great recently. Got some stuff on my mind.’ He catches my concern and adds, ‘I’ve been prescribed sleeping pills. But I knew I’d be drinking and smoking last night so I didn’t bring any.’
I perch on the end of the bed. ‘You should be careful with all that.’
‘I am careful,’ he says, the barest hint of annoyance in his voice. ‘Hence, me not mixing them.’
‘Is there anything you want to talk about?’
I remember how excited he was to tell me about his work opportunity last night. It lifted me too, let me know the world is still turning, still tipped in his favour the way it always should’ve been. Looking back with sober eyes, I wonder if his excitement was a little too frantic, too skittish.
Instead of answering my question, Max says, ‘Let’s have something to eat.’ Right on cue, his stomach gurgles, and he mumbles, ‘Who the fuckbrought sambuca? And why?’
Between Max, Josie, Alina and me, the flat is spotless by eleven. Josie’s on dishwasher duty, Alina sorts out the recycling, Max cleans up any spillages, and I wander around with a bin bag collecting rubbish.
Once we’ve fuelled ourselves with coffee and a fry-up, I feel considerably more human. Inexplicably, Alina has the energy to go for a run, and I simultaneously envy and fear her. By the time she returns, Josie’s ready with her bags and the pair of them head off to Josie’s parents’. So an hour later, it’s just Max and me wallowing at either end of the sofa under the duvet with a sitcom on that neither of us is paying much attention to, instead scrolling on our phones and occasionally letting out a short puff of air through our nostrils in place of an actual laugh.
I draw my phone closer to my face, even though I know Max couldn’t give less of a shit about what he sees on my screen. I test the waters with something entirely innocuous.
have fun with your dad tomorrow!!!!!
God, never in my life have I used five exclamation marks in one go. Max glances up and catches the vaguely disgusted grimace on my face, and a quizzical expression briefly crosses his own before he shrugs and goes back to his phone.
Thanks, I’m so excited
!!!!!
He’smockingme. Dots appear and disappear on the screen as he types and deletes, and then a message comes through.
At the risk of sounding like a broken record, we should talk about it
I’ve never met someone so frustratingly into open lines of communication
You should know by now that talking is one of my favourite activities
thought you might’ve been avoiding me
giving me a taste of my own medicine and ghosting me after we hooked up
I wouldn’t do that
I would though
I am aware
Which is why I waited for you to text first
