make you stay (g.d.)

seven

grayson:

"she said no?" i ask.

"yes," ethan grumbles, "can you believe it?"

i shrug. "were you an ass?"

he throws his hands up, clearly frustrated. "no! at least... i don't think so."

"if you didn't think you were an asshole, then that means that you definitely were. you're not very self aware, bro."

ethans shoots me a dirty look and continues to cut his orange. "she's playing hard to get. but, every single time i walk through that door, she looks like she's reading me or something. it's hot."

"maybe just go in again, not anytime soon, that's insanely scary, and politely ask for her number."

"oh because that worked so well for you and that other elizabeth girl," ethans scoffs, and i feel my jaw lock.

"shut up before i beat your ass into yesterday," i warn sternly.

ethan looks at me and grins. "i always love when i can bring out the aggressive side of you."

"stop."

"but i know what always gets you-"

"ethan!" i yell, "stop. i hate when you bring it up."

"are you a—" he starts to tease, but i quickly pull him into a head lock. he immediately starts to whine and try to pull away, but i lock my arms tighter.

"you're a jerk," i say when i finally push him away. he rubs a spot on his neck, then regains his composure.

"but you love me!" he yells as he walks backward into his room.

i huffily fix my hair, and purposely grab his keys off the counter just to make him mad again.

"going out!" i yell and slam the front door before i get a response.

i let my hands drive me to wherever they feel necessary, and i end up back at the açaí place. i want to see what's so special about this girl in the first place.

i quickly speed walk up to the glass door and swing it open. the bell rings again, and i spot a girl behind the counter, her back turned away from me.

"hi," i say.

"ethan if it's you again-" she slowly turns around, and i'm faced with a person i never thought i'd see again.

my body goes numb, limp almost.
it's her.
it's really her.

silence is thick and i struggle to breathe through it.

"oh my god," she finally mumbles, eyes wide and as shocked as mine are.

"elizabeth," i finally manage to get out, "you're... what?"

she blinks, then blinks again. i might need to pinch myself.

"this isn't real," she mutters and massages her temples.

i take a few steps until i'm right directly in front of the counter, and in front of her. she's changed, but still the same as the last time i saw her.
her hair is long and wavy, like ethan said, but those eyes- man, those eyes could never change.

"have we met before?" i tease, and watch her eyes glimmer for a split second.

"i don't know..." she ponders for a moment, a smile teasing her lips. "remind where that would be, exactly?"

"i don't know, but are you any chance the girl my brother's been relentlessly hitting on for the past week?"

"if his name is ethan, about 6'0"—and that's being generous—then yes, i think i am."

"this is..." i struggle to find the words. "insane. what in the world are you doing here?"

she shrugs, and looks around. "living."

"am i going to have to jump over this counter to give you a hug?"

she laughs, throwing her head back like always, and reaches over the counter instead for a very, very light embrace.

"my shortest known friend, but the best at hugs, that's for sure." she says.

i grin, not doing a good job hiding my blush.

"this is so weird," she says with a small smile. "first your brother acts like a stalker, now you?"

"runs in the family."

"no, for real. how'd you find me, dolan?"

"my brother would not stop talking about this girl at a little açaí shop, and i had to come see for myself."

"how long has it been? four months?"

"yeah, but who's counting?" i reply.
me. definitely me.

she plays with her fingers resting at the edge of the countertop, and looks at me deeply. i can tell she has something to say, just can't find the words.

"hey," a man i recognize as roy appears and we both gasp a little, turning our heads to him. "i said you're on thin ice, elizabeth, okay? back to work."

she smiles at me, embarrassed and apologetic.
"let's catch up another time. leave your number."

"i gave you my number. months ago. you never called."

"you never asked," she says softly.

"that's bull," i say bluntly. "you said you didn't want any contact after the plane, so i left you my number so it was all up to you whether you wanted to talk to me or not."

"that's fair," she admits. "here–hold out your hand."

i do, and she gingerly scrawls a few number on my palm and clicks her pen when she's done.

"call me. if you want. and we can talk."

i nod, a little too eagerly, and wave goodbye.
this is still so surreal. i almost just want to order something and eat it there so i don't have to stop looking at her, afraid it's just a dream that will vanish into thin air.

then, i glance at the numbers on my palm again, and i'm reminded that it's just a really great reality.