Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas

Show You How - Part 2

There is something oddly enjoyable about living a life that doesn’t quite fit into normality. Working into the early hours of the morning meant that my sleep patterns were always just a little bit off from the norm. By the time I came home from Carmen’s and was getting ready for bed, the sun was rising and bathing the desert in a bright, citrus glow. Years into my job, I still loved going to sleep when everyone else was waking up. I felt like I was forging my own path – I was conforming to the demands of responsibility and adulthood, but I was doing it on my own terms.

I don’t set alarms on my days off, knowing that I would wake up just after noon. I wasn’t a deep sleeper and didn’t tend to sleep very long, even when I lived alone. Despite Brandon’s best efforts, he was the one who usually woke me up. He was much better about it than when he first moved in, but all it really took was forgetting that a crock pot timer was on and I’d be up, ready to tackle the day ahead. I just wasn’t a heavy sleeper.

So when I woke up later that day and peeked at my alarm clock, I thought it was a mistake – the power failed or my clock was broken. Instead of waking up around one or two o’clock, it was half past four. 

I immediately jolted out of bed and grabbed my phone, but it displayed the same time as my alarm clock. I pulled a hoodie over my head and ran downstairs. Brandon was at the stove, stirring something slowly with a wooden spoon. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted me with a bright smile.

“Is it seriously almost five o’clock?” I asked, glancing at the clock on the stove. All three clocks were in agreement – it was early evening.

“Yup,” Brandon said. He took the spoon to his lips and blew on it before tasting it. “Want to try? It’s minestrone soup.”

I nodded and he brought the spoon to me, gently tilting the liquid into my mouth. I could taste the various vegetables he put in there – carrots, peas, beans – as well as hints of basil and oregano. It was delicately balanced but full of flavor, and my stomach immediately growled.

He looked at me and grinned. “I think it’s ready, but you have time to go change if you want to.”

“Not so fast,” I warned him with narrowed eyes. “I mean, yes, I’m going to change clothes and come back for soup, but first – why you didn’t wake me up?”

He shrugged. “I figured you were tired. I knew you weren’t working today, so I figured I’d let you sleep. It’s your day off – what’s the rush to get up?” He opened the cabinet and took out two bowls. “Why? Did you have plans for today?”

“No,” I said, “I just...I just don’t usually sleep in. It kind of threw me for a loop.” I ran my fingers through my hair as Brandon set the table, trying to comb them into decency. “I’ll be right back.”

As it turned out, Brandon also had breadsticks in the oven. When I sat down at the table, my clothes crisp and my face scrubbed, he placed a bowl of soup in front of me and a basket of still steaming breadsticks between us. I closed my eyes and inhaled the sweet smell of freshly baked breadsticks – this was, hands down, the best part of having Brandon as a roommate.

We ate, but the spoons clinking against the bowls was the only sound that disrupted the silence. Despite the amazing food in front of me, I felt myself feeling sicker with each passing minute. What was he waiting for? I knew he had something to tell me – so why wasn’t he saying anything?

I swallowed hard, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. “This is really good,” I finally said. “Thanks for cooking tonight.”

“No problem,” he said with a wave of his hand. “It was a recipe I’ve been meaning to try out for a while – the breadsticks, not the soup. We didn’t have bread flour, so I used all purpose. I’d like to get bread flour and give it another shot.”

“These taste just fine to me,” I said, stirring one in my broth.

He smiled warmly. “Well, thank you. I’m glad you enjoy it.”

The conversation lulled again, and I tried to think of a way to steer it towards his new crush. “How is the IT job going?” I asked, keeping my eyes on my soup. “Are you enjoying your time at middle school?”

He sighed. “I don’t understand why anyone would choose to teach at a middle school. You’re literally in a soup of hormones – it’s a nightmare.” He reached for a breadstick and tore it in half. “But the job itself isn’t bad. It’s mostly helping the teachers set up their projectors. You’d be surprised how these people, who have been working here for years, still don’t understand how to do it. Any other problem, I can look it up online and no one is the wiser.”

“Is your back doing any better?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. “You hurt it lifting something heavy, right?”

“I picked up a tower the wrong way. It was stupid, but I’m better now.” He bit into the breadstick and returned his attention to his soup.

That was it?

I had given him the perfect transition to tell me all about Jenna, and he didn’t take it? Maybe it did fall apart, and there isn’t anything to tell, I mused.

“Working at the middle school did make me realize one thing, though,” he said slowly.

I looked up at him with a jerk of my head. “Oh?” Is this how you transition into her?

“I don’t want to do IT work for the rest of my life – this job is obviously temporary, but I didn’t really know where I was going. I think I know now. I think I want to be a teacher.”

I stared at him for a second, unable to say anything at all.

“I know I’ve kind of screwed up,” he continued quickly. “This would all be easier if I knew this going into college as an undergraduate, but I’ve looked into it. I can get my masters in education and be a history teacher. I can take classes at night or online and never have to leave my job.” He locked his serious, determined eyes with my dumbstruck gaze. “Averie, I think I’m serious about doing this.”

The knot in my stomach felt like it was free falling. I was expecting some sort of a confession, but not exactly this. “I think that sounds great,” I finally choked out. “You should go for it.”

A smile spread across his face as he sat back in his chair. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “That really means a lot to me. I was actually just looking into different programs I could do….”

He continued on about different programs at different colleges and universities as I cleared the table, but he disappeared upstairs once I began washing the dishes. Was that really all the news he had for me? Had this girl fallen off of his radar so quickly that she didn’t even deserve a mention? Even if she didn’t, a career change was something more important to discuss…but Carmen made it sound like he was infatuated with her. What happened?

As I put the cutlery in the dish rack, Brandon came back downstairs. He had changed out of his t-shirt and put on a blue button down that fit snugly across his broad chest.

“Going somewhere?” I asked as he reached for his wallet and car keys. Looking at him more closely, I realized that he combed his hair as well.

“I’m meeting someone for coffee,” he said. “I shouldn’t be gone very long.”

“Are you meeting Jenna?”

He froze in place, hand on the doorknob. He looked over at me, guilt pooling in his wide, brown eyes.

“You’ve been talking to Carmen?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” 

I nodded. “I promise I’ll fill you in when I get back,” he said, and before I could respond, he was out the door.