Crashing his wedding

Chapter 6

I feel like I should be shouting this from the rooftops, but a few days have passed and Russ has encouraged her to come over to my house. Mine. Not the Queen of England's. Not a palace. But MINE.

In order to commemorate this occasion, I tried to last minute order a red carpet for her delicate feet to walk on, but Amazon says it's going to take an entire week to get here, which is a little drastic considering that there were flying carpets in Aladdin and that movie took place in like 700 B.C.

That and I was also going to go all Jay Gatsby on her and fill the room with an abundance of flowers, but I'm poor. So I mostly just made origami flowers and threw them around in some cheap plastic vases my mom kept around. 

Sans make-up this time, I wait for her to arrive. 

I pace around the room. I have my imaginary detective's cap on and a list of questions prepared. It'll be like interrogating a criminal. Professional. No reason to be nervous. 

One knock gets out before I've already unlocked the door and thrust it open. "Hey Esme." I say, each letter tumbling after the other.

I do my best not to look at her, but in between each word I take a glance. She's adorned from head to toe like a Christmas tree. In a golden sun dress that compliments her warm brown skin. A fro that looks as delicate as a bundle of dandelions. Okay, look away.

"Please come in," I gesture inwards and look above her in order to get the sentence out.

"Thank you." She says and the words sound so harmonious I suspect that every time she speaks an angel gets its wings.

"Want something to drink?" I spout out trying to utilize what I read in 'Manners for Dummies.'

"No, I'm good." She says sprawling out on the floor and making a pretend snow angel. "Your carpets really soft." She giggles.

"As far as carpet goes, I guess it's okay." I smile cautiously. Is it okay to smile? I wish there was a voice inside my head to guide my every action. Maybe it would be best if I actually was a robot.

"So I hear you're going to be slinging questions my way."

I nervously take out the list. Cool as a cucumber, I tell myself, cool as a cucumber. An apology tumbles out, "Sorry if this is weird...I'm uhh doing this for Russell because he's my friend."

She waves off my comment, "No, no go ahead. I love answering questions."

I start off with something simple. "What's your favorite color?"

"Yellow." She's fiddling with her dress now as she speaks, "I know that's kind of an unusual preference, but it's so sunny. Every time I see it it makes me think of a blinding happiness. It's such a jubilant color I just wanna wrap myself up in it."

I've been a long time fan of the color blue. I've always thought it was this calm and tranquil color, but now I'm starting to imagine yellow.