Zoey's POV
Lights.
Lights everywhere.
"Jesus, someone turn off those damn lights!" I groan. I want to sleep.
The lights continue to shine. The strong rays penetrating into my eyes.
"Make it stop!" I shift around to find a duvet and droop it over my face.
Then, I heard a deep chuckle, light footsteps and curtains being drawn.
I smile, and throw the sheets off my head.
"I love you so much, kind soul," I drawl out the words lazily.
And I fell back to sleep.
-
When I finally woke up, it was already 3 in the afternoon. I'm in Chris' room. There are iPads and laptops stacked above one another. Dirty laundry and books are scattered all over the floor. My eyes widen and my eyebrow shoots up an inch. Chris reads?
My attention falls on the red fluffy rug that is lying under my feets. My love! It looks as majestic as ever.
"I miss you!" I holler, launching myself onto the beautiful material, spreading my love for it to each corner of it. I am in bliss.
"Are you trying to make me feel jealous of my rug?"
Did Chris just appear out of nowhere and actually saw me practically fondling his rug?
Well, shit.
"What?" I feign ignorance, standing up. My hands are locked behind my back awkwardly. What am I supposed to say?
"Zoey," he sounds as if he is talking to a child, "were you trying to rape my rug?" he bites down on his lip trying to contain his amusement.
Rape!
Out of all the words in the dictionary, he chooses rape!
"I'm just expressing my love for your rug," I am not prepared to be accused of raping an inanimate object. "It's like my favourite thing on earth." I emphasize.
Chris laughs and shakes his head. He has changed out of his clothes from the party yesterday, looking as attractive as ever. And then there's me, with my disgusting clothes from yesterday and my bed hair.
I look around his room again. Something poking out of the cabinet catches my eye. I eye it for a moment, then brush it off. Whatever is that, it doesn't concern me whatsoever.
Chris plops down onto the rug coolly, the resistance from air brushing through his hair, making it fly a little. That looks cool. I step forward onto the rug, I want to look cool too. With one hard push, I plop down onto the rug.
Ouch!
"My butt!" I groan, rubbing my poor backside. Why isn't Chris' butt hurting?
He laughs, "You are such an idiot."
I frown. Are we gonna have this conversation again?
"For the record, I've gotten straight A's since I was born." Chris snorts.
"I don't care. Zoey, let's go out."
"Where to?"
"Are you afraid of horror movies?" Oh shit, I am. I hate horror movies. They give me goosebumps. But I'm not going to tell Chris that, he'll laugh at me.
"What? No! I love horror films!" Lies, lies.
"Okay good, then let's go!" Chris sounds apprehensive, almost nervous even, though he covers it up with a bedazzling grin of his.
-
After I got home to change, we took Chris' car to the cinema. Apparently, he has a car and a bike. He only rides the bike to school and the car to everywhere else.
As we advance into the cinema, my heart begins to race. How am I going to survive this? I can't watch horror movies! The cold wind from the weather is not exactly helping with my mood.
Chris proceeds to buy the tickets while I get the popcorns and drinks. I can already imagine myself screaming at a unhealthy range of decibels. Popcorns will be everywhere. I'll be an embarrassment.
It's not too late to back out of this, right?
I turn to look for Chris, to see him handing the money to the counter.
I guess it's too late then.
I sigh and gather the popcorns and drinks into my arms. Chris and I saunter into the theatre. Still, he radiates apprehension. I can feel it. I frown. What's wrong?
As we enter the dark room, we find our seats and settle down. Oh my, my stomach is making somersaults, there are goosebumps on my arms already. The temperature seems to have drop a few degrees. I shiver and snuggle closer into the seat.
I glance at my phone, three minutes before the movie starts. That's enough time for me to calm myself down. I begin to take in deep breaths. Calm down, Zoey.
At my eighth breath, Chris jabs my stomach with his elbow.
"Ow."
"Sorry, sorry, but can I tell you something?" he leans closer to me, almost whispering. Is he going to tell me a big secret or something? Oooo that's interesting. I lean towards him.
"Promise you won't tell anyone."
"Promise."
"Okay, good. So you see, like... you see... so... actually, you see... like... I..." Chris starts to swallow his words and stammer.
"What is it?"
"You see," he pauses to swallow, "I am kind of," he smiles awkwardly, "just kind of, afraid of horror movies."
"So I'm actually counting on you to give me some sort of moral support."
Oh no.
I can't handle that. Can't he see I'm scared too?
"But...but... Chris," I stammer, "I... I'm scared too, you see," I swallow. The breathing exercises does nothing to calm my nerves.
"What? I thought - "
"I didn't want you to laugh at me!"
"Shit, what do we do? I don't - "
Chris is cut off by sounds being amplified throughout the whole room. The movie starts to play.
My body freezes and my eyes widen. Consciously, my hand goes forward to meet Chris' hand. We intertwine our fingers and I grip onto his hand like my life depended on it. He returns a squeeze on my hand and he glances at me with a tight smile.
Here we go.
-
The movie didn't turn out as horrifying as I thought it would. Chris doesn't even seem as shaken as I am though. Every once in a while, throughout the movie, he would give my hand an assuring squeeze. I was screaming inwardly when one of the characters in the movie got killed. Chris held my hand throughout the whole movie. I don't know, was it just me, or did I became braver while watching a horror film?
Only during occasional jumpscares, Chris would shut his eyes tight, just like I do, and only open them once he feels that it's over. He doesn't look like he's afraid of horror films.
After the movie, we drive to the nearest diner.
"What do you want to eat?" his eyes not leaving the menu in his hands.
"Cheeseburger," I reply, "with extra cheese and tomatoes. Thankyou."
I fish out my phone to check for notifications.
Oh no! 6 missed calls from Evelyn.
Evelyn!
I forgot about her. Did she manage to get home?
I punch in her number as fast as I can.
"Hello? Evelyn? I'm sorry for ditching you yesterday at the party. Did you get home?"
"Zoey..." she whimpers softly. What happened?
"What happened? Are you okay?" I voice my thoughts. Chris' eyes shoot up from the menu and looks at me questioningly. 'Who?' he mouths. I frown at Evelyn's lack of response and takes the time to mouth back, 'Evelyn'.
He raises an eyebrow and nods, turning his attention back to the menu, studying it. How long does he take to order some food?
"Zoey... I..." she finally responds quietly. Then she sniffles. Has she been crying? My eyebrows furrow.
"Yea? Evelyn? What happened?" the suspense is killing me. I'm worried for her, okay.
"Levi... he..." she drawls out, then breaks down. She starts sobbing loudly. Oh dear, what is going on?
"Levi what? What did he do?" Chris looks up at me questioningly again. 'What?' he mouths again. I ignore him and focus on Evelyn.
"Zoey, he...he..." she stammers. Colour drains from my face slowly as I think of what might have happened.
Oh shit.
He did not.
Did he?
No no, Levi's a nice guy.
But, even the nicest guy would get drunk right?
Oh no. Please.
"Evelyn, do you want me to go over?"
"No... it's okay..." I can hear her hesitation.
"I'm free right now, I can go over if you want me to." I can feel Chris staring at me intently, he's probably wondering what the hell is going on.
"No, I'm fine."
"Then, would you tell me what exactly happened?" Just tell me already!
"Levi... he..." she hesitates.
"He..."
"He..."
"HE DOESN'T WANT TO DATE ME!" and she starts to weep hysterically all over again. My shoulders sag and I sigh in relief. Thank god, I'm thinking too much.
I chuckle quietly and smile into the phone, "Evelyn, I'll see you tomorrow at your's and we'll talk about it, okay? I'll bring food."
"Okay, deal. Remember the food," and she hangs up on me abruptly. I turn to face Chris' curious stare.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. How long are you going to stare at that menu?"
Chris smirks and raises an arm to ask for the waiter. He places our order.
"Can I ask you a question?" Chris folds his arms on the table. His burning stare is making me slightly uncomfortable.
"Yea?"
"Why did you cry? You know, yesterday," he speaks, his voice cautious, yet concerned. I start to squirm under his riveted, strong gaze.
"I... I... Chris..." I stutter, wringing my fingers together on the table nervously. I don't want to tell him. Think! Zoey, think! Think of a reason to answer him.
My heart picks up its speed and begin to pound. My eyes dart around the room anxiously, looking for inspiration. Caution, don't look into his eyes. My mind remains empty.
"Zoey."
"Chris... I..."
"Zoey, it's alright. I get it, please don't get upset. Please." He grabs onto my cold hands and gives them a tight squeeze.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ask. I just wanted to know," he sounds upset, disappointed even.
"No Chris, I'm sorry. I just... can't. Just give me some time. I'll tell you everything," I try to explain myself, but I guess I failed as I see Chris pressing his lips into a thin line.
"Alright. Don't get upset, please."
"I won't."
"Good. The food's coming," his lips break into a smile and instantly, the mood is lighten.
Things food does to you.
-
"Zoey! I'm heartbroken right here! Why are you watching The Big bang Theory and laughing at Sheldon's jokes?"
"I... I... just... can't..." I gasp out the words in between laughters. Oh my, I've missed this show! My shoulders are getting tired from all the shaking, but I still can't get over the pun.
"Zoey! Breathe in, and out. And we'll talk."
I heed Evelyn's advice and started to breathe in, blocking my mind out from the joke.
Think about moldy cheese, expired food, cold mashed potatoes, Chris throwing away the red fluffy rug...
There you go, not so funny anymore.
I smile at Evelyn after the humour in me finally dissipates.
"Evelyn, don't be so upset. What Levi said wasn't true. You're so pretty and kind and lively and all that good stuff, why would he not want to date you? I'll probably go lesbian for you!"
"Are you trying to hint something to me about your sexual preferences?" she half smirks. How dare she! I'm trying to help her here.
"Good question, but back to the topic, Evelyn, maybe you would want to take it slow? Start texting him more often, don't be flirty. Then, when you two are more comfortable with each other, then start to drop him hints or something. You can even try to make him jealous! Then, we'll see how it goes from there," I end with a pat on her arm. I feel like a professional relationship expert now.
"Wow Zoey," she puts on a shocked yet impressed look and starts to slow clap, "I never expected that out of you."
I laugh, then pulls onto the fabric of my sweatpants for a ladylike bow. We jump out of Evelyn's bed and head down to the kitchen for ice cream. Evelyn picks out her vanilla one, while I dig deep onto the freezer for my blueberry sorbet. This thing will kill me sooner or later.
We plop down onto the couch and starts digging into the creamy goodness. I deliver a whole spoonful of it into my mouth and moans shamelessly. I can't help it.
Evelyn turns to face me, "So, what is up with you and Chris?"
I swear to god a blush did not just appear on my face.
"We're getting along pretty well, he's cool." I try to act nonchalant as I continue to deliver the goodness into my mouth.
"Just cool? No 'he's hot'? No 'he's attractive'? No 'he's cute'? No 'he's boyfriend material'?" Evelyn presses on.
I pauses my action and frown at her last sentence. Boyfriend?