The Night That Changed My Life

Finally Finished

Once I had no tears left to cry, I pulled away and realized how wet I had gotten Andrew's shirt.

"I am so sorry." I said embarrassed, as I started walking over to my room. "Here let me get you another one."

"Henley, really, it's not a big deal." he said, trying to deter me. He was strangely calm for someone who had just been sobbed into by a complete stranger.

"No, please. I insist." I said, forcing a smile (eventhough we both knew it was a fake) and returning with a men's shirt I grabbed, about his size.

"Thanks." he said, heading toward the bathroom to switch shirts.

"No problem." I said as he shut the door. Oh my gosh. What is wrong with me? I thought, nice first impression with your new boss. UGH. Anyway, I probably should change too, and cover up these bruises, just to avoid any questions from Mrs.Quinn. I went into my bedroom, and grabbed a big long-sleeved t-shirt, and changed quickly.

Perfect, super comfy. Then looking in the small mirror on my door I saw my face. Great, I thought, I look like a mess. Grabbing the towel still left on my bed from that morning I was able to wipe away most of my smeared mascara. Taking one more look in the mirror I thought, well this is as good as it's going to get.

Heading out of the door I found Andrew thumbing through my books as he began stacking them into a box. Seeing Andrew in that old plaid shirt made it difficult to breathe.

"Are you okay?" He said once he saw me standing there still as a post, probably thinking I was on the verge of another break-down.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied. "That was just my brother's shirt. It's been stuffed away in a box since the accident." I said, getting a little choked up by the memories; all the times we played together, with him in that shirt, and all the tears I cried while he held me in that shirt.

"Henley, I'm sorry. I can put my other shirt back on..."

"No," I said, "it's nice to see it used again. Besides, it looks good on you." I confessed, forcing a smile so I didn't cry instead.

"Okay...because I was wondering how you had a shirt that fit me perfectly." he jokingly replied, lightening the mood, which I was grateful for.

"Alright," I said, after a moment of chucking from us both, "books first?"

"Sure. From what I've seen you have a pretty awesome collection." Andrew responded.

"Yeah, well, books are my escape sometimes. Books and music." I replied, pulling a box over.

"Really? Do you play any instruments?" He asked.

"Well...I used to. I played the piano, but...I haven't had much time lately..." I replied. "What about you?" I asked, changing the subject on purpose.

"Well," he began, plucking his imaginary beard, "growing up I learned to play the guitar, but sadly, I got into rock music in high school and thought it would be like totally rad to smash my guitar after playing at the school talent show. Needless to say, my parents didn't think it was so rad, and I didn't get another one so my music career went dead." he finished.

"Wow, I would be never taken you for a rebel," I said with a smile, "or a rock-lover, for that matter."

"Ah, but twas just a phase." he replied in his terrible British accent, grinning. "By golly," he said, continuing on in his refined speech, "t'appears we're finished."

"I guess we are." I replied sitting back and looking at all the work we had finished, trying not to laugh at his horrid attempts at old English. Now that the living room was done all that was left was my bedroom, which didn't consist of much. Just my clothes, bed, and desk.

"Thanks so much for your help, kind sir." I said, giving into his playful speech.

"You are welcome." he replied, returning to normal speech patterns. "Are you sure you're done packing everything?"

"Yeah, I just have my room left. And you probably want to get some rest before we leave tomorrow." I responded.

"How about a compromise, since I want to help, but you obviously want to get rid of me." he said, joking about that last part, "It's dinner time, and I'm getting hungry. So how about I go pick up some take-out, while you pack up your room. Then when I get back, We Feast!" Andrew finished.

"Okay," I said, realizing he wouldn't just leave until everything was done, which secretly made me glad he would soon be my co-worker. He was reliable, dependable, and took ownership of what needed to be done. I liked that. "Since you obviously won't leave me alone," I joked, "I guess that works."

"Awesome. Where is your favorite local restaurant?" He asked.

"Hmm, I'd have to say Jameson's is probably the best. That is, if you like pizza?"

"Absolutely! I could live on pizza." He responded, grinning.

"Alright," I said with a smile, "if you leave my building and go left, it's about a block and a half down."

"Alright." He replied, making his way toward the door.

"What kind of pizza do you like?" He asked, as he grabbed his coat and put it on.

"Any kind really." I said walking with him to the door.

"Alright." He said opening my door, "Be back in a few."

"'K, see you in a little while." I said with a smile before shutting the door.

Alright, I thought to myself, get the bedroom done before he gets back, because that could be all kinds of awkward....as if tonight hasn't already been embarrassing enough.