Something About Him

V. Potato Chips

It's just Julian and I home. Apparently Kayla gets home around five, Laura around six, and Jack gets home depending how busy his work day is.

After showering and shoving my sopping wet clothes into the drier, I change into some sweats and a hoodie and make my way downstairs.

I'm still amazed by the size of their kitchen as I go into the walk-in pantry to find myself something to eat. I grab a bag of chips, a soda from the organized fridge, then go to the couch in the tv room. It's an L shaped couch with footrests that pop out when you pull the lever in between the cushions. But there's no need for the footrest when I have the whole couch to myself.

A few minutes into my Netflix series, I pause it to listen for Julian. It's too quiet other than the show playing through the speakers. I glance around and still no sign of Julian. He must be in his room. Deciding I don't care, I hit play and continue my show.

He's probably in his bedroom, but I'm surprised I don't hear music blasting. Maybe in the back yard. Wait a minute, why the hell am I so curious where he's at? I don't even like him, he's infuriating, and rude, and the chip bag gets snatched from my hands before I can do anything about it.

Startled, I look up to see Julian walking towards the back yard with the bag of chips. I pause my show, "Hey," I get up to follow him, but when he opens the glass sliding door, he shuts it right as I'm about to step over the threshold. "What the hell?" I open the door and step out onto the cold cement patio. Luckily, the rain had stopped, but the ground was still damp.

The backyard is fenced in with a gate at each side. There's a big tree with climbable branches in one corner with two hanging chairs strung up. Julian's sitting on one of the five patio chairs that circles a bricked fire pit. A potted plant sits on a round glass table that's set next to his chair.

Julian's looking at me while he eats from the bag of chips. "Those are mine," I declare. I don't have shoes on, only socks that do little to warm my feet against the cold patio.

"Oh? Your name is on it," Julian examines the bag, "Nah, I don't see it," and back to eating.

"You reek of weed." I don't know why I say that; I'm not his parent and what he chooses to smoke or not smoke doesn't affect me.

Julian doesn't deny my statement, only responding with, "So you see why I need these chips."

"Get your own," I tell him reaching for the bag, but he pulls his hand away while making a "tsk" noise. "You're not funny," I attest.

"I think I am."

I go to grab the bag again, quicker this time, but Julian's fast on his feet as he hops onto the wall of the fire pit. He balances there as he dares me, "come get it."

I know I shouldn't humor him. I know I can easily go inside and grab myself a different snack, but for some reason, I go along. I step onto the bricks and reach across the pit, Julian leans back. "So close," he teases. I force myself not to show any sign of amusement at this stupid game we're playing, I'll be damned to give him that satisfaction.

Julian has two or so inches on me which he uses to his advantage as I try again for the bag. I go on my tippy toes to give me some extra height, but I lose my footing. A yelp type sound falls past my lips as I try to leap across, but Julian's in the way. He grabs me, dropping the chips in the fire pit, and pulls me to him.

I cling onto the sleeves of his shirt. "That was a close one," I breath out laugh, looking down at the ashy logs and the spilled chips. "Thanks" I look back up and it hits me how close we are. His dark eyes boring into mine and I really take in his features. He has nice, full eyebrows and long eyelashes. And nice lips.