Monday morning arrived with a rainstorm. I looked out of my window with a defeated sigh. I hated walking to school in the rain. My hair always gets curly and frizzy and it makes my mood ten times worse.
I got dressed and looked through my closet for an extra rain coat.
I found an unfamiliar jacket, so I pulled it out. It took a second of observing to realize that it was Phil's coat, the one he leant me before thanksgiving.
I put it on and smelled the fabric; it still had the scent of his cologne on it. I breathed it in happily, and decided to wear it to school so I could bring it back to him.
I was about to grab an umbrella and head out the door when my phone started ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was Phil.
"Good morning."
"It's raining," Phil said plainly.
"Yes, that's probably why it's so wet outside," I replied sarcastically.
"Do you want a ride to school? I'm giving Cat one," he ignored my sarcastic comment.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a nuisance."
"You are never a nuisance, my good sir," he responded happily.
"Okay, fine," I chuckled.
I sat on my couch and waited until I heard the honk of Phil's car from my driveway. I grabbed my bag and umbrella and headed out, ducking my head against the rain.
I got in his car quickly, closing the door and sitting back against his warm front seat. "Shit," I whispered.
"Is that my coat?" Phil asked, making me glance down at my outfit.
"Oh yeah, I wore it so I could give it back to you," I mumbled sheepishly.
"Don't worry about it," he gave me a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Keep it, I have several more." I watched him, waiting for him to say, "no, actually give it back," but he just smiled and put the car in reverse. "Put your seatbelt on."
I obeyed, sliding it over my chest and into the lock.
We pulled into Cat's driveway next, and he honked the horn yet again. A grumpy looking Cat stepped out of her house and stomped toward the car.
"Fucking rain," she grumbled as she tossed herself into the back of the car. "Thanks, Phil."
"No problem," he beamed.
---
We arrived at school ten minutes earlier than we usually do, so we hung out in Phil's car for a bit. The heater blasted us with warm air, making me far more comfortable than I would be in the building.
"So, how was your weekend?" Cat asked from the back, sounding much more cheerful than earlier.
"Fine, I just did a lot of homework," I responded.
"Same, I've been studying," Phil replied.
"You guys are so boring," Cat groaned loudly.
"So, finals are coming up," I mentioned, turning to Phil. "We need to study one or two more chapters for chemistry before you are completely ready."
He sighed. "I know. I need to get an A to keep my A in the class."
"Then we'll start studying more rigorously at lunch."
"'Rigorously' is too intimidating of a word." Phil laid his head back against the head rest.
"We will start studying more intently, then," I adjusted the wording, and he smiled.
"Much better."
---
"No, that's a chemical reaction," I corrected Phil for what seemed to be the millionth time. Phil put his forehead in his hand in frustration.
"I knew that, I swear," he mumbled, flipping the page. I couldn't help but smile at him getting so deflated over missing a couple questions.
"Okay, number twenty-three?" I pointed to the question I was referring to.
"Oh, that's a covalent bond," he answered confidently.
"Yeah, good job," I grinned.
"Nice, okay next one," he insisted.
We went on like that all of lunch. We didn't have Cat to interrupt us because she was "studying" with Marcus. The bell rang and Phil let out a sigh of relief.
"I hate chemistry," he mumbled.
"You'll be fine," I responded, giving him a soft pat on the arm. He smiled at my encouragement.
Chemistry flew by in a flurry of notes, and frustrated mumblings from Phil. Every time Mr. Richards said something that was a little complicated, Phil would put his hand in his hair and squint at his notes. It was pretty adorable.
The bell rang and Phil stood up abruptly, knocking his book off the table.
"Oh gosh," he spoke under his breath and picked it up quickly.
"Hey, calm down, you'll do great," I affirmed.
"How do you know?" He snapped. I winced at his harsh tone. It felt like he just slapped me in the face.
"I'm just trying to help," I replied weakly.
"Yeah, well there's no hope for me," he shouted, and stormed out of the room. I stood there, in shock of what just happened. Phil never snaps like that, I don't understand what happened.
I finally moved my feet and went to sixth period. I didn't pay attention to a word my English teacher said because my mind was wandering off into a different universe.
My phone buzzed in my pocket half way through the lesson. I pulled it out and saw that it was a text from Phil.
I'm really sorry, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself.
I put my phone away, scared to text in class and get in trouble. I tended to avoid any sort of confrontation with authority.
Five minutes later, my phone buzzed again.
Please respond so I know you don't hate me.
I felt bad, but I couldn't respond. I slid my phone away again, resolving to text him the next time Ms. Lynn looked away.
But she didn't. She kept eye contact with almost everyone the entire time. I could only sneak my phone out for five seconds before she'd look back at us.
My phone buzzed again, so I risked slipping it out to peak.
Dan, I'm really sorry. Don't hate me.
I looked up to see that she was writing something down on the board behind her, so I risked texting him back.
I'm in class. Talk to you after school. And I would never hate you.
I closed my phone right as Mrs. Lynn turned back to us again, and sighed in relief.
Phil didn't text back the remainder of class, but as soon as the final bell rang, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I expected a text but instead I was getting a call from Phil.
Before I could even say hello, Phil was apologizing.
"I'm so sorry, I should've yelled at you, I am so angry at myself."
"Phil, it's alright," I laughed. "I'm not mad at you. It just startled me a little, okay?"
"Thank god, I was so worried that you'd be mad at me for snapping at you," he breathed.
"Please calm down, don't hyperventilate," I requested.
"I won't. Where are you?" He asked.
"I'm walking up to my--" I stopped when I saw Phil standing by my locker, his phone to his ear.
He spotted me and ran forward. When he reached me he pulled me into a tight hug.
"Phil, what's wrong?" I could barely talk because he was squeezing me so tightly.
"I've had a horrible day, I'm so sorry," he mumbled, letting me go. A couple of people walking by turned to watch us, be we ignored it.
"It's over now, so you can start over tomorrow with a new day," I repeated something I had read from the internet once. It wasn't really encouraging, but I had hoped it would help Phil.
"You're a loser," Phil grinned.
---
"You remember a couple of weeks ago, when we went out for ice cream?" Phil asked as I walked him out to his car. It stopped raining, so I declined his offer to drive me home.
"Of course," I replied. I didn't forget the milkshake incident, or the first time I understood that Zoe was flirting with me, or the sudden realization that I could touch someone without almost dying.
"Well," he continued, "you never actually showed me the town, like you were supposed to."
"Are you asking me to actually show you around?" I snickered. "You've lived here for almost three months."
"The only time I've gone into town was that one time," he explained. "Not that it wasn't fun, it's just that I didn't get to see anything."
"Fine," I relented. "When?"
"Now!" He yelled, grabbing my hand and forcefully pulling me toward my car. The sound of crunching gravel and his joyful laughter filled my ears.
"Phil, I have a calculus test tomorrow," I protested, but he didn't seem to want to hear it. He just smirked and kept pulling me forward. He opened the passenger door and lightly pushed me inside. I sat down with a defeated huff and put my seatbelt on. "Not too long, okay?"
"That's fine," he grinned happily.
The car ride was filled with bubbly banter, with a couple of sarcastic quips or light-hearted insults. Our trips were usually quiet and composed, but now they're full of excitement and happiness.
"Oh yeah, I need to get a few Christmas presents while we're here," Phil mentioned as he turned onto the main road of downtown.
"Oh shit, I forgot about Christmas," I mumbled to myself. I needed to get four presents: one for my mom, my dad, Cat, and Phil. It used to be only three presents before this year.
Phil pulled into one of the parking spots along the side of the road and jumped out enthusiastically. "You can find some while we're here," he suggested as I joined him on the sidewalk.
"Alright," I grumbled. I hated Christmas shopping. It was always a hassle, and I always worried that the person receiving my gift wouldn't like it.
"Cheer up Dan," Phil mused. "It's almost Christmas."
"Actually, it's December first."
He rolled his eyes. "Close enough."
---
We strolled through many of the shops on the main strip. Phil was so enthralled by all of the different shops that were mere walking distance from his house. He mentioned something about living in a big city where you had to drive everywhere.
"Lakeview is pretty small," he mumbled as he pressed his nose to the glass of a record shop. "I've never been in a record store before!"
I started to suggest that we go in, but Phil was already inside before I even spoke. I laughed under my breath and ducked into the store. I noticed Phil looking around at all of the records and music around him. "It's incredible."
"Mmhmm," I murmured, but I was far more interested in what I saw out of the corner of my eye. "Holy shit," I whispered.
"What?" Phil asked, approaching the stand I was observing. I pulled out the thing that caught my interest and showed it to him.
"This is a rare Muse CD," I explained, my heart skipping happily. "They never officially released it as an album, but it has five songs on there that you won't be able to find anywhere else." I held the black and white case in my hand delicately, as if it was an extremely fragile object.
"Oh my god," he uttered.
I turned to the woman behind the counter, who was flipping lazily through a magazine. "How much is this?"
She beckoned me forward without looking up. I placed the album on the counter and she scanned it quickly.
"98.50," she answered.
"I can't afford that," I mumbled, grabbing the case and putting it back. I felt my disappointment wrap around me and pull me into a small bubble of temporary despair. Maybe I'll come back to it when I have that money. Hopefully it would still be there.
I noticed Phil staring at me intently. He seemed to be lost in his head.
He reached out and grabbed the CD confidently. He placed it back on the counter. "I'll buy it," he beamed. He looked over his shoulder at me. "Consider it an early Christmas present."
My mouth dropped into the shape of an "o". Did he seriously just say that?
"Phil, that's too expensive," I argued, walking over to the counter to face him. "You don't have to buy this."
"Yes I do," he said without looking at me. He handed a wad of cash to the cashier, who put it in the register and handed him the CD in a bag. "But you have to listen to it with me, because I'm super curious."
I nodded, and flashed him the most sincere smile I'd ever given anyone. "Thank you."
"Of course," he returned.
We walked out into the freezing air and went straight to his car, seemingly satisfied with his one purchase.
"Don't you want to check out some more shops?" I asked, my teeth chattering from the cold. It was starting to get dark out, so the wind was picking up.
"I'm far more interested in listening to this," he responded gleefully. He opened his car door and threw himself inside unceremoniously. I did the same, even less graceful than him, and pulled the door closed. I huddled in my jackets, trying to keep warm.
Phil popped the CD into his radio and turned it up. We both sat in silent anticipation as we waited for the new music to fill our ears.
"This is the first song," the familiar lead singer's voice announced, "and this is the song that means the most to us."
The music that started playing was intensely beautiful, with a flowing melody and elegant lyrics. He seemed to be singing about someone who broke his heart, which is cliche, but his words made it seem so personal. I felt as if I had a horrible heartbreak myself, yet I have never been in a relationship.
Phil pulled out of the parking lot slowly, and drove off toward my house. I didn't pay attention to anything but the music coming from the speakers, letting myself absorb the lyrics to the fullest extent.
The CD ended as we pulled into my driveway. My stomach was a flurry of butterflies at the new songs. I couldn't find the right words to thank Phil. I had to get him something incredible for Christmas.
He pulled the CD out of the radio and placed it gently back in its case. Before he handed it to me, I threw my arms around him. "Thank you so much," I whispered softly.
He wrapped his arms around me and we sat there for what felt like hours, though I know it had to be only few seconds. When I finally pulled away, I noticed that Phil looked as happy as I was.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I beamed, and grabbed the CD.
"Can't wait."