The Little Dreamer and the Moon REWRITTEN Little Stairs to Nowhere

Chapter 8

- The Little Dreamer -

I look the the flimsy piece of paper with number scribbled across it.

I'm laying on my bed debating whether I should go ahead and throw it away or something.

I mean I thought we really hit it off, but I guess not.

I mean it's not like I already like him or anything, but I felt like there was at least something. Call it what you must a spark, gut feeling, or just fate. But for all I know it felt like the feeling of when you flick a lighter and it sparks.

Whatever. It doesn't matter. I guess it was nothing. I feel like I should message him though to see if he went to go get his arm checked out because even though my toilet paper bandaging was amazing I still want to make sure everything got disinfected and there's no serious medical problems.

I get up and decide to go down to the kitchen to make a smoothie because I've got nothing better to do. Also because I'm maybe possibly going to binge watch a tv show on Netflix or something of that sort. The beauty of Netflix; being able to randomly find new television shows to get addicted to. And besides I don't have plans all weekend so why not?

I put the piece of paper on my bedside table, "I'll figure out what to do with you later." I say to it.

I'm about to walk out of the room when the door bell rings.

Right on time. I was about to go downstairs anyway. Must be Xana. She probably is just making sure I'm alive because I never called her last night.

I go down the stairs and open the door.

I'm about to call out her name, but it's not her.

Jay is at my door. Jay Greyson. The guy with a girlfriend so don't get carried away Luna.

"Uh- hi." I say shocked, "Sorry I thought you were someone for a second."

"What are you doing here?" I ask genuinely questioning why this cute boy with the good music tastes is at my door.

"Oh well I went to the doctor and wanted to let you know, 'I'm going to live'!" He says.

I laugh and then ask, "Oh would you like to come in?"

"Oh, I really don't have to."

"No I insist. You caught me at a good time because I'm about to make smoothies." I say letting him walk in.

"Really now?" He asks.

"Yup. They are phenomenal." I say shutting the door behind him.

"Ah. I thought I woke you up or something." He says.

"Why did you think that?" I ask.

He points to my attire which consists of an old tee shirt that says, 'I like boys from books' and some baggy grey and blue flannel shorts that resemble boxers.

I forgot, but I guess it's not that big of a deal. "Oh haha nah. This is just my lazy attire" I say stand aside and gesture inside.

The stairs are behind me so I walk around them into the living room and make my way to the fridge.

"What are your fruit interests?" I ask trying not to laugh.

"Well you wouldn't believe me, but I'm a fruit enthusiast and entrepreneur."

"Really now?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. I like all of them but my favorites happen to be pineapple, mango, and passion fruit."

"Really well in this amazing fridge of mine I happen to have mangos but tragically none of the others."

"Really? Well I guess we'll have to make due with what fruit you have available."

I burst out laughing.

"That sounded a lot better in my head." He says chuckling and putting his head in his hand.

I look at his new bandages and remember.

"Oh! So what about your arm?" I ask.

"Oh. Yea. So I went to the doctor, I said it was an emergency, and he checked it out and instead of me having to go to the ER. He ended up checking if there were any glass shards left and there was only a couple thanks to your great job and lastly he wrapped it up. He said the wound wasn't deep so there was no need for stitches. Thank goodness. I have a low pain tolerance, it's depressing. But he said it should be completely healed within a month or shorter." He says with a smile.

"Well that's great." I say.

"Yea my girlfriend freaked out when I came home with a toilet paper bandage last night or really this morning? Well when I came home." He chuckles.

"Oh?" I hardly manage to say. I feel like I've got something lodged in my throat.

Why do I care? Psht. He's like a stranger anyway. I don't even know why I let him into my kitchen. Am I crazy? He could be a psycho killer for all I know. I mean he doesn't look like one, but they're always the less guessed ones.

I turn towards the fridge and start taking out different fruits, yogurt, and milk. When I'm pulling out the strawberries a hand touches my shoulder.

I flinch away, dropping the strawberries. He's coming for me.

"Oh my god. I'm sorry! I thought you heard me. I thought you'd like some help I'm sorry." He says bending down to pick up the box.

"I sorry. I totally just zoned out. I'm sorry! Gosh I'm such a klutz!" I say.

"Maybe I should go." He says.

"No! Well I mean- well let me make you a to go smoothie." I say apologetically.

"You don't have to."

"Please let me at least do this at the least." I say.

"I should be making you a smoothie for helping me last night." he says worried.

"Oh it's fine."

"Well I really want to thank you." He says.

"Well you can owe me a tea or something." I say. "Now what do you like in your smoothie?"

"Is this how you make friends? By using means of smoothies to win your victims over?" He asks chuckling.

"Of course. The sacred smoothie has a lot of symbolism when it comes to friendship." I say jokingly.

"Ah so by taking this smoothie it means we're friends?" He asks.

"Yup. That's how it works."

"What a fruity way to make friends."

I laugh at his horrible, corny joke.

I reach on my toes to grab a mug from the cabinet shelf.

I usually jump on the counter, but I don't want to freak him out. I'm able to knock it over and it falls into my palm.

After making his smoothie and putting it into a to go cup for him he says, "Well I've got to go. I just wanted to update you on my condition."

"Well I'll walk you to the door."

We walk to the door and talk for a minute then he says, "Well I guess I'll see you whenever?" He kinda asks.

"I mean I'll be here." I say laughing.

He opens the door.

"I'll see you when I see you." He says walking out to the front.

"See you." I say.

"That's my line." He says.

I watch him go.