✧𝙽𝚘𝚊𝚑✧
There's only two weeks left until Christmas, and my son is slowly losing his mind. He wants to know what the presents under the tree are, and he wants to know now.
It's gotten so bad that, apparently, most of the time the presents are hidden until they have company. Then the presents get put out but only for decoration. What torture that must be for the poor kid.
Lucky for him, his mom counts me as company. I come over often, weekdays or not. All of his toys and things are here, so unless we're having a sleepover, I'm usually here. And while I am here, those presents sit out in the open for him to squint dramatically at while he tries to envision what's behind the thin sheet of paper wrapped around each one.
I feel bad for the kid, so I give him one present early when I come around tonight. With his mom's permission, of course. It was surprisingly hard to convince her to let me give it to him early, but I managed after I told her I was taking her boyfriend out on a date tonight and wanted a little bit of joy before I do. She huffed and puffed about it, but told me I could do it. She also told me he wasn't her boyfriend, but whatever. By the looks of things, he will be soon anyway.
But anyway, Cameron is ecstatic when I hand him a little box wrapped mostly with tape. Kiara gasps in horror when she sees proof of my wrapping skills. And she grimaces the entire time Cam struggles excitedly with the tape and paper. Ultimately, I take pity and reach for my pocket knife and the box. He insists on doing it himself with my knife, but I ignore him and just cut some of the tape before handing it back to him so he can open it himself still.
Once Cameron finally has the wrapping paper off, he goes on to gasp loudly at the box before him. Then scoop it up, shoot up from his spot on the ground, and hold the box above his head like it's the treasure he's been searching for his whole life.
He ruins that picture pretty quick though.
"Big boy walkie talkie!"
"...Yeah." I sigh. Kiara giggles to herself while we sit here and watch him scratch desperately at the box. "Okay, okay, let me see." I chuckle and reach out for it. He hands it over quick. He doesn't even argue with me about the knife, waiting anxiously for me to hand the open box over.
"Yes!" He celebrates the new walkie talkies he now has. These ones don't have SpongeBob on them though. Instead, his is orange and mine is hopefully blue—unless he steals it from me—and we'll be able to reach each other from our own places. I'm not far from them, but I'm still not a hundred percent sure it'll work completely all the time. Maybe not. It's worth a shot though.
Talking to him on his moms phone when I can't be around is fine and all—I mean, she gives us privacy and isn't floating around in the background while I'm just trying to talk to our son, but still. I guess it's more like the convenience of it for us all. Kiara doesn't get her phone taken away from her and we don't have to coordinate some random time through the day where she for sure won't need her phone.
What we're doing now works for us, but Kiara agreed that these are worth a shot. Neither of us think Cam's ready for a phone yet. We're both still a little iffy on when that will be though, honestly. She says fifteen. I think by thirteen, it might be a little depressing for the poor kid in a classroom of kids who already at least have something more than a tablet.
We'll see.
Cameron's grin is wide and uncontrollable. He hugs the blue one to his chest and holds the orange one out to me, already aware of what we can use these for. I smile to myself as I reach for the one that I silently told myself would be his. But I think I always knew that's not how it would for sure go. I knew he'd take the one he wanted and there would be nothing I could do to argue about it.
He laughs at the staticky sound that barks through the speaker in my hand when he guesses and presses a button. "Copycat!" He shouts louder than he needs to into his.
Kiara sighs, smiling to herself too as we both listen to his staticky voice come over mine. It's loud and I have to remind myself to mess with the volume when I get home. For now though, I lift it to my lips. "Maybe it'll work better if you go in the room." I suggest, whispering into the radio.
He doesn't answer me over the radio, quickly spinning around to bolt into the other room. As grown up as he's liked to keep acting lately, he is still a little kid. Amused and fascinated beyond understanding by the smallest things. I'd kill to be that way again—even for a little while. And sometimes, playing with him, I really do feel like it. I'm half afraid to ask Kiara if she feels the same way sometimes.
Kiara hums to herself while my walkie talkie starts beeping at us, alerting us that Cameron is trying all the buttons. "Hungry?" She asks in a gentle tone. Without looking at me for an answer, she gets up and already starts walking towards the kitchen.
Before I follow her, I lean into my walkie talkie. "Nut, you should inform agent Taffy about your upgrade before we get started on our new missions. Over." I tell him. I chuckle at the affirmative huff he gives me over the call, ending it with a sharp Over. I hook the walkie talkie onto the outside part of my back pocket as I get up off the couch to quickly follow Kiara, deciding I've bought us some time with that.
Kiara's already scouring the cupboards for snacks or something. It's a little past for dinner time, but I guess neither of them are hungry enough to start that full meal just yet. Kiara's dooming herself with a snack right now. She doesn't seem to care. "Fruit snacks?" She offers once she finds a single pack.
I smile, slowing my steps to an eventual stop in the doorway. "That's all right. You go ahead." I nod her direction. She smiles wider and lowers her heels to the ground before shutting the little door, having gotten that from a top shelf she probably hides all the goods from. "Got a stash?" I curiously ask as I come further into the room with her. She hums and nods up to it, daring me to take a look up there.
It's not hard to tell she puts her things up there because neither of them can reach—not comfortably anyway. I on the other hand, get a nice good view of the unorganized mess of sweet candies and treats that were probably the last in the bottom of the box. "Leave the Scooby Snack." She requests as she pops a red gummy into her mouth.
"You know you've got, like, four in here, right?"
She gasps at that and steps forward to lift herself up on her tiptoes, lifting her chin as much as she can to see. "Score!" She beams. "You mind?" She gestures to the cupboard.
"It's gonna cost you."
"Such a man," She grumbles under her breath, rolling her eyes. "What?" She coaxes impatiently. She tries reaching up there herself for it to hopefully slip this process, but those ones are pushed in the very far back. She doesn't stand a chance.
I laugh at the effort she puts in for a couple of graham crackers shaped like dog treats. "Ah, I'll figure it out." I shrug her off as I reach in to grab one of them, pushing the rest a little closer so she'll be able to reach them later. They, surprisingly, don't have a step stool in their house. They need one.
Kiara huffs at her unpaid debt, but she's too excited to have those snacks to care for long. So much so even, that she hands off her unfinished fruit snacks to me. It does nothing to pay her debt, but I smile and accept them anyway. "Thanks." She smiles down at the little bag in her hands while she desperately tries to rip it open.
"Anytime."
I watch her struggle with that bag for a minute longer. She tries to ignore herself while she tries tugging it opposite ways to pop it open, and smiles casually to begin a conversation to hopefully drown out the noise. "So, are you excited for your date tonight, babe?" She asks all sweetly.
If I didn't know her, I'd think babe would be her way of telling me something. But I do know her, and I know that babe means nothing more than best-girl-friend. She's never called Aaliyah that, so I understand the difference between genuine and not. She's just making fun of me.
I ignore that fact and smile. "Do you think he'll give me roses?" I ask hopefully.
"A gentleman always does." She decides confidently. And with that, I decide I've had enough of playing along. I shake my head with a smile as I look down at the fruit gummies, carefully picking out the one I most want.
"Seriously though," I insist. "What the hell are we supposed to talk about, exactly?"
"Yourselves." Kiara suggests without a second thought. "You're supposed to be getting to know each other." Her smile softens as she reminds me. "So, please, try to be nice."
I cock my head back. "What, you don't think I can be nice?"
Her smile stays soft, almost pitiful. "I think you like to play a lot more than Wyatt does."
"He sounds boring."
"That is what I'm talking about." She calls me out quick. I sigh deeply as I look away from her, already bored of this guy. "Noah, please." She pleads. I hesitantly look back at her, already aware I've lost whatever conversation we're going to have before it's begun. I never stand a chance when she hits me across the face with that Noah, please.
"I know." I nod, shifting on my feet as I avert my gaze to the small bag in my hand. Anything to look away from that little look she gives me. "I promise I'll be nice." I agree with ease. What was I really going to do? Fuck up her relationship just because I can't be nice for, like, an hour or two? It'd be a shit thing to do to everyone.
My eyes drift back over to her almost immediately after my reluctant promise like she's a damn magnet. She still watches me with a gentle and unsure expression, like maybe she's contemplating canceling the whole thing.
"Too late to cancel, princess." I point out on a short laugh. But really, I could cancel at the very last second if I really wanted to. I don't want to though, not because I actually want to meet the guy but for the sake of Kiara and Cam. It's only fair to them that I at least try.
Her unsure gaze flies back to mine, expression shifting like she's confused and deep in thought. For a moment, she doesn't let me in on whatever she's thinking. She seems to hesitate to do it, like she wants to but doesn't at the same time. "Noah, um..." She swallows. Averts her gaze. "Do you remember anything about the first time we met? Anything at all?"
I nearly take a step back at the random question. I thought we were talking about her and her apparent not-boyfriend. "I..." I shake my head slowly and can't help my chuckle. "Yeah. A lot of it." I confirm, crossing my arms over my chest as I look down at the ground in a stupid attempt to not remember all of it right now. "...Why?" I eventually ask, unable to help it.
"We don't actually know each other that well."
The small, curious smile that touched my lips at her question falls at that. "Well...we..." I trail off slowly as I start to think. She isn't wrong. We talked a lot that night and have continued to talk now, but really we don't know all that much about each other. Not enough, at least.
"I'm sorry," She shakes her head. "I was just thinking about it and...wondered if you even remembered whatever random shit we talked about that night." She reasons with a short, humorless chuckle.
"I remember." I confirm again. "Some of it, I'll admit, fell through the cracks, but I remember a lot." I nod once to myself. She doesn't look the least bit surprised some things are gone. "Like when you told me about that time from seventh grade to, like, the middle of high school, you colored your eyebrows in with eyeliner because you thought that's what your mom used too."
She frowns immediately. "I was hoping that was one that fell through the cracks."
I grin proudly. "Nope. First story that came to mind when I saw you again." I declare. She never did find the courage to show me a picture. We told each other after a few more shots of liquid courage, we'd show each other the worst pictures to ever exist of us in our little years just to make it fair.
Never got around to that though. After a few more of those encouraging drinks, we sort of forgot about it. There was something else there that we both found a little more interesting.
I laugh to myself as I take a couple of steps closer. "Still waiting to see those embarrassing pictures, Kiara." I remind in a voice so quiet, it's almost a whisper. I silently hope she still shares all the memories I have of that night with me too. It was a long time ago, but I still want her to know everything that I know.
She smiles at that, eyes locked onto mine now. She doesn't offer to show me those pictures though. Instead, she looks down at her small snack bag. "Um—" She blurts out, quickly looking back up at me. "You want one?" She hastily reaches into the bag to pick out a broken graham cracker and hold it out to me.
I tilt my head at it. She frowns once she notices it's broken and awkwardly apologizes under her breath as she reaches in to grab a new one. That one ends up broken too though, and I start to laugh as she looks inside the bag to discover they're all going to be like that. It's a small bag, after all. "It's okay, I'm good with my fruit snacks." I assure, chuckling to myself as I find the last one in the corner of the bag before I ball the wrapper up in my fist and absently stuff it in my pocket for now. Or for future me to find either before I'm about to start laundry or sometime after. Who knows.
She sighs like maybe she disappointed herself there and looks down absently at her snacks. It feels like we stand here silently for too long, yet not long enough. Silences shouldn't feel so thick like this—they should be causal pauses between conversations like normal people have.
I try to clear my throat in a stupid attempt to make this a little less awkward, but it doesn't feel like it makes the air between us any less thick. So, I ultimately just have to suck in a big breath that normally makes it known that I'm about to leave. Kinda like that big 'All right' dads shout to the entire fucking room before they leave it.
At least that was my dad. I hated it.
"I should go. I think I'm going to be late." Is what I say instead of screaming that stupid phrase or whatever you'd call it.
As I'm turning to go say goodbye to Cameron, she stops me with a simple sound. "Um," Is all she manages out. Even still, I stop completely and look back at her to let her know I'm listening. I think she knows I'm always listening. "I'm grateful for how open and understanding you've been about everything. It means a lot...Especially when it comes to Cam." Her voice is nothing more than a whisper, as if she's afraid of saying that. Maybe she is. I don't understand why she might be, but I don't understand a lot of things. My sister says it's because I'm a boy.
I feel my shoulders drop and soften at her hesitant thank you. "Why..." I trail off when I realize my question of why she'd feel the need to thank me for something like that won't get us anywhere. She'll just shrug at me and repeat it. "Kiara, whether you believe this or not, you're not the only one at fault for this. We both sucked at remembering our own responsibilities, and that's on us." I remind on a gentle laugh as I take a step even closer, lowering my voice in case Cameron decides to eavesdrop on us now of all times.
She doesn't look like she believes me, just as I thought. It's fine though. I'm going to end up telling her so many times, she's eventually going to have to give in and take my words to heart. She has to. "It's on you. I did my part." She whispers defensively.
I laugh at that. She starts to smile. "Worth it." I decide on a hum, only smiling wider when I hear more bleeps sound from the walkie talkie in my back pocket. She smiles wider too, looking off to the side while we listen to him play with the talking control. He never actually says anything though, maybe just pressing it over and over again.
When her eyes drift back to mine, there's a silent question that I find immediately. She watches me with such uncertainty in her eyes, that I start wondering if I'm reading this all wrong. As if she doesn't actually want me to do this. It doesn't make sense though. The way she smiles while she talks about him tells me she really wants this.
So, what the fuck do I do?
"It'll be okay."
She doesn't move away from me or even watch my hand as I lift it and reach over to brush a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. She lets me do it, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say she leans a little against my knuckles when they brush lightly against her cheek. She still doesn't look fully convinced.
"Quit worrying about it. It'll be fine." I insist on a short laugh. "Relax with Cameron tonight. I promise, there won't be anything you'll have to worry about."
She starts to smile. For the first time, she actually seems to start to believe me. Or at least starts to listen to me. "You promise?" She repeats.
I scoff playfully. "What, think I can't keep it? I'm great at keeping promises." I insist, extending my hands out in a gesture for her to trust me. "I promise." I add to my list of promises. It only makes her smile wider. "Just relax." I encourage.
The way she tilts her head slightly doesn't help the picture brewing in my head. For a moment, that picture in my head of her at that table absently playing with a beer bottle in front of her makes me see something that probably isn't there. It's the flicker of interest in her eyes that I swore I could've seen that night when I told her we should find somewhere quieter to talk.
I remember she was playfully skeptical at first. Pointed out that I wasn't asking her to go somewhere with me just to talk. I asked her if just talking was what she actually wanted. She never did answer me.
"Noah?"
Neither of us stop my hand from lifting back to her face. She calls my name, but doesn't step away or slap my hand off her. Her eyes dart rapidly between mine, and she doesn't move away while my hand splays out against her cheek as I come closer to her.
Now is the worst time to do it, but for some reason I do. I go right ahead and kiss her lips as if that's something I can just casually do now. It's not and never has been. In fact, even that night we shared a million years ago, she wasn't all that interested in kisses that actually meant something. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same.
I fully expect her to yell at me when I pull away just as quickly as I leaned in, but she seems to be too far stuck in a state of shocked to be able to do that. She blinks up at me, and her eyes slowly start to widen when she realizes what I just did.
The walkie talkie in my back pocket goes back to spatially beeping. The loud noises snap that fucking picture in my head that made me do something as stupid as that out of my head quick. Which leaves us both staring at each other like deers in headlights.
I cough and look away because I have to, not because I want to. She says nothing, still stuck in her place.
"I should, uh, go meet your boyfriend then, huh?"
Her stupid boyfriend.
"He's not..." She weakly starts arguing like she has been whenever I call him her boyfriend. But what else is he really? She sure as hell hasn't offered any other title. He's just...
What's his name?
I step back from her. "I'll text you afterwards to let you know we haven't killed each other." I offer, deciding to just ignore what I've just done as if it never happened. That always works, doesn't it?
I leave the kitchen fast, and have to settle for mumbling into my walkie talkie that my mission has been compromised and I have to retreat now to Cameron instead of actually going to say goodbye properly. I'm lucky the kid likes his spy games and likes that better than me going in his room to say I'm leaving.