What You're Not | ✔

28. Buried At The Bottom

She left for work and I finished off my breakfast and dumped the dishes in the sink.

Just as I got back to my room my phone chimed with a text.

Miles:
We still painting?

I had almost forgotten about that. If he was still planning to come over, maybe Vivian didn't tell him anything. Or maybe he didn't believe her if she did tell him? Or, most likely, he just didn't care about my random hook-up.

Despite the ache in my chest at that last thought, I sent him a quick confirmation text and he said he'll be over soon.

I was still a little excited that he'd be coming over. I had a lot of fun with him last night—well, before the whole Jerrell thing and me running, yet again, from an awkward situation.

Why did I have to like him?

Whatever. I had to push those thoughts aside. More importantly, I needed to put on some pants.

Twenty minutes later I was fully dressed in an old T-shirt and jeans and rushing to open the door for Miles.

"Morning, ma'am, I heard you needed you drain snaked," he winked.

My laughter was mixed with relief. I'd been stressing about him cover, thinking things would've been weird. But he was still his goofy self.

"Ew." I punched his arm before letting him in and closing the door.

He laughed, rubbing his arm. "Took the whole drive over here to think of that."

"It doesn't even make sense because we're painting, not plumbing," I noted.

"You try to think of a pick up line involving paint," he challenged.

Coming up with nothing I said, "My mind isn't as dirty as yours. Let's just go to my room." His lips turned up into a smirk and rolled my eyes. "Don't say anything."

He followed me up the stairs to my room where I had the paint, trays and rollers all laid out.

I had been in the process of laying down tarp on the carpet to shield it from any stray paint, when Miles had arrived. The blue material rustled as I walked across it with my bare feet to continue taping it down at the base of the wall.

"You're still going with the stars?" Miles asked from behind me.

"Yup." I stood, finished with taping. "Kimber let me borrow some stencils. They're in my bag." I pointed to my messenger bag that was on the desk behind him.

He grabbed it, complaining about how heavy it was right before everything fell out of it because he held it upside down.

I looked down at the pile of wrinkled graded school assignments, stationary, candy wrappers and other various things I stuffed in my bag and then up at an amused looking Miles.

"How the hell did all of that," he pointed to the mess, "fit into this little bag?"

"It's not that much." I didn't even believe my own words.

Taking the bag that dangled upside down in his hand, I crouched down to start shoving everything back into it.

"That can't be good for your shoulder," he said, joining me on the floor. "Why don't you throw some of this stuff out?" He picked up a worksheet. "Why are you hanging on to math homework from December of last year?"

I could only see the back of the paper, which was why I could read the message scrawled in the bottom corner.

Happy Birthday
         - Shannon