Jamie
Once I'm dressed, I head downstairs to find Patrick playing with Benji in the back yard again. This warms my heart. But I have a better idea.
"Let's take him to the beach." At the word 'beach', Benji's tail starts wagging furiously.
"Sounds good." Patrick says casually, throwing his beanie over his head.
"You wanna stop by your place to change?" I ask.
"Nah, I'm good. Its not like I slept in these clothes... They'll be fine." He grins at me.
He's noticed I'm wearing his hoodie again. "I see you didn't wanna change either?" His grin widens.
I run a hand through my hair sheepishly, "You know I love wearing this."
"Yeah, but you could wash it once in a while." He says playfully.
"It still kinda smells like you since you wore it yesterday." I say automatically, pulling the zipper up a little. It is quite cold out.
He raises his eyebrows in interest. What did I say? Was there something wrong with me saying that?
"Well as long as it's a good smell, I'll let you off." He nudges me a little as he walks past me into the kitchen and says "What, no scarf today?" Benji follows him quickly, eager to get to the beach.
My hickey's have calmed down, but now that he's mentioned it, I'm a little self conscious about it. I grab my woolly scarf from the coat closet, grab my keys from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table, and head out the front door with Patrick and Benji.
Benji bounds down the porch steps and over to my car. He knows where we're going, and he's excited. He loves the beach as much as I do. I push the automatic button on my car keys to unlock my car so Patrick and Benji can get in, then I turn around to lock the front door to the house. When I turn to walk down the porch steps, I trip over my own feet and fall down the steps.
"Woah! You actually are like Bambi today, huh?" Patrick says, just as he catches me at the bottom of the steps. "Good job I've been around to catch you."
I feel like a fucking moron. "Yeah, well, it's probably your fault I'm so weak in the knees." I dust myself off and start walking over to my car, he just laughs.
"Here, let me drive." He holds out his hand for my keys. "I don't want you and your weak knees getting us into an accident." He grins at me.
I sigh dramatically and reluctantly hand over my keys. "Fine!" He's driven my cars plenty of times in the past, it's no big deal.
As Patrick backs the car out of the driveway, I notice Benji shifting uncomfortably in the backseat. I turn around to see what's wrong, and see that one of my guitars is propped up on one side of the backseat. I pull it into the front with me to give Benji more room.
"Can I request Taylor Swift?" Patrick says, flashing me that gorgeous smile of his before turning his attention back to the road.
"You don't wanna listen to the radio?" I ask.
"When you're sitting there holding a guitar? Not a chance." He's concentrating on the road ahead of him now, and I'm just smiling over at him. He really is... gorgeous.
As much as I don't wanna admit I know one of Swifty's newer songs, I can't help myself. I start playing the opening chords of 'Gorgeous', and Patrick laughs.
"I didn't realise you were such a big Taylor fan" he mocks me.
I don't know the song all that well, so I just sing along to the chorus. "You're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face, cuz look at your face!" I screw my face up at him as I sing the last line, and he laughs.
"I gotta say, that song does kinda suck." He admits. "How about 'Style'?"
"Now you're talking!" I say, re-positioning my fingers, preparing to play Style. This song is a total private joke between me and Patrick. We always bicker about it, because it's so similar in melody and composition to 'Perfect' by One Direction. They're both our guilty pleasures. Patrick prefers 'Style', and I prefer 'Perfect'. I love arguing with him about which of the two songs sucks the least. And he knows what I'm gonna do. I always mash Style up with Perfect, before completely transitioning into Perfect. He doesn't like it when I do this, but he's never complained before.
"Midnight, you come and pick me up no headlights." I sing. He's drumming his fingers along my steering wheel, keeping perfect time with me, of course.
"You got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes, and I got that red lip, classic thing that you like."
He closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head, like he's really feeling the music. I laugh a little as I continue singing. This is fun. We always have fun like this. So I can't resist but transition into Perfect. I change up the chords (but only slightly) and seamlessly start to sing Perfect instead of Style.
"And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can't even pronounce." He rolls his eyes, and my smile widens as I sing, "If you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about, then baby you're perfect!"
We continue like this all the way to the beach. I'm glad he drove, otherwise we might have just stuck the radio on and made rude comments about how shit the pop music they insist on playing on the radio is. Then Patrick would have started rummaging through my CD's before deciding to plug his phone in. Then I'd complain about his 'drum heavy music', he'd complain about my 'soppy acoustic songs' , and then a song we both love would come on. Like Best of You by Foo Fighters, or Just Like Heaven by The Cure, or Sweetness by Jimmy Eat World. He'd nod his head and tap his hands against his knees. I'd sing along. And we'd arrive at the beach. Okay, so even if I had drove, we still would have had fun.
And this is what I'm thinking as Patrick pulls into a parking spot at the beach. He gets out, and opens the back door for Benji. And as Benji runs down towards the sand, I'm standing staring at Patrick wondering how I've never seen him this way before. He's smiling as he watches Benji bound away from us. And he looks so cute in his beanie. I'm kinda glad I can't see most of his hair. The hair that is poking out from underneath his hat is being blown by the wind a little. I know if he pulled his beanie off right now, the wind swept effect on his hair would probably make me trip over again.
He turns his attention to me. He smiles at me and says "Ready?" because I'm just standing here beside my car gawking at him like an idiot. I blink, compose myself, and nod at him.
We walk down to the sand, and Patrick starts throwing sticks into the ocean for Benji to retrieve. He throws them really far, and I feel like a stupid little school girl, marvelling at how good he is at throwing. Seriously? So I decide to pick up a stick and try it for myself. I try to imitate what Patrick's doing, so I pull my arm back, then throw the stick forward with a bit of a flicking motion. Or what I thought was a flicking motion. I don't know what the hell I did, but I just hit myself over the head with the stick, and now Patrick is practically in tears laughing at me.
"Oh my god, what were you trying to do!?" He asks, trying to control his laughter.
"I was trying to fucking throw it, obviously." I kick the stick across the sand and pout.
"Aww, come here." He says, before throwing an arm around my shoulders and squeezing me into him. "There's a reason I don't let you touch my drum sticks, Bambi." He squeezes my shoulders again before letting go and running ahead of me as I open my mouth in shock.
"Oh, you are so dead! Fucker!" I shout, before running to catch up to him.
He's laughing at me and running ahead of me. I stop to pick up another stick and throw it at him. He catches it easily and twirls it around his fingers, sticking his tongue out at me.
"Fucking show off!" I shout.
He stops, tosses the stick up into the air and catches it, like he does with his drum sticks sometimes, then pulls his arm back and throws the stick into the sea for Benji to chase after. I've caught up to him now. He's grinning down at me, and I feel like I'm 14 again. Running around the beach with Benji, acting like idiots. What are we doing? This is some serious rom-com territory. And I'm suddenly very aware that I haven't checked my phone at all today.
But I don't want reality to catch up to me just yet. I'm far too happy in this bubble with Patrick, and he seems really happy too. I don't wanna ruin it, not yet. So we walk along the beach with Benji, chatting mindlessly about shit like the record deals we turned down, and how things might have been if we had accepted them. We talk about Erin and Jay, and take turns guessing how many times they've had sex since New Year's Eve. I suggest four - once on New Year's Eve, then again in the morning, then on the night of the First after they got back to North Bridge, then again this morning. Patrick guesses fifteen, and tells me there is no way those two would have only 'fucked' four times. He starts to tell me when he thinks these fifteen 'fucks' would have occurred, but I stop him. He assures me that his guess is much closer to the money than mine, and points out that we've 'done it' (not 'fucked' I note) three times on the Second (today!) already. He has a point. You'd think this type of talk would be awkward between us, but it's not. It's really not, and I am so fucking glad.
As we walk back towards my car, we're arguing about how much better Dave Grohl is with Foo Fighters than he was with Nirvana (Patrick votes Nirvana, of course. I vote Foos, of course) when we pass the Beach Cafe.
"You wanna get a latte for the road?" I ask him.
"It's the Second of January. Is the cafe open?" Patrick asks. He has a point. The door's open and there are some people milling around outside, though.
"I think so, looks open anyway. You want a latte or not?"
"Sure, no latte for me though. Black." He reaches into his pocket, and I'm about to tell him no, when I realise I didn't actually bring any money. Oops.
"Um, I don't actually have any cash on me..." I start to say.
"Don't worry about it, you can get it next time." He hands me a ten. I love that he told me I can get it next time. I like that so much more than just 'oh, I'm a big dominant man, I will not let the lady pay.' We're equals. We always have been.
I head into the Beach Cafe, and Patrick waits outside with Benji. As I wait for my coffee order, I feel like a lovesick puppy. I cannot wipe the smile off of my face. And don't get me wrong, I haven't forgotten about Noah. I am very much aware that I have some shit to deal with in the next few days. But for right now, I can't focus on that. I might start freaking out again, and I just wanna stay in my happy bubble with Patrick today. I peer out of the window, trying to catch a glimpse of Patrick petting Benji and telling him what a good boy he is, but all I see are three random girls standing around out front. The barista hands me my drinks to go, and I head outside.
As I step out of the coffe shop and turn towards the bench Patrick sat down at with Benji, I see that the three girls are talking to him. He's looking up at them and smiling, and they're petting Benji. They must be commenting on how cute he is. Yeah, well, he's mine. So back off. I am of course referring to Benji.
Sensing my presence, Benji turns his attention towards me and runs up to me. Good boy. So loyal. But Patrick doesn't. He's listening to whatever one of the girls is saying. So maybe they weren't talking about Benji.
I walk over, and they finally notice me. Patrick beams at me and stands up, I smile at the girls, wondering what's going on.
"Oh my god, Jamie Hawkins, you are so fucking awesome girl!" I feel like I'm talking to Aubrey. No one else ever calls me 'girl'. I miss Aubrey. Note to self: call her for a catch up later.
"Totally, I wish I could sing like you!" one of the other girls says to me. I smile at them and thank them for the compliments. They must have recognised Patrick as 'the drummer from The Middle.' Cool. We are so fucking famous, right?
"And I wish I was in the hottest band on campus, with three of the hottest guys on campus." The third girl says, looking right at Patrick.
She stands out a little more than the other two girls. She has black lined eyes, and silver-grey dyed hair, kinda like Kim. Note to self: I need to catch up with Kim too. And this girl is very pretty. And very much Patrick's type. More so than the other two girls anyway. They look a little more 'Joel'.
"Jamie, do you think you could give me Joel's number? I talked to him at the Grill once but you guys were just about to go on so he couldn't really talk much." One of the other girls says. Yeah, they're team Joel.
"That is such a lie!" The other girl says. "I'm the one that talked to Joel that one time! I should be the one getting his number, not you."
The two girls bicker back and forth and Patrick rolls his eyes and laughs. I cut in, "Ladies, please! Joel actually isn't available right now anyway. He has a girlfriend." At the same time the silver-grey girl says to Patrick "I don't see what all the fuss is about with Joel anyway, I'd much rather have your number."
She's flirting with him. Which she's allowed to do. But I wanna see how he'll respond. One of the 'Joel girls' is asking me something, but I'm trying not to listen to her, I wanna hear what Patrick will say. I'm looking at him, and he's looking at silver-grey. She's batting her dark, curly eyelashes up at him, that bitch. I fully expect him to get her number, that's what usually happens. But he doesn't.
Instead, he smiles at her and says, "Sorry, I dont have my phone with me and I don't know my number by heart." He shrugs his shoulders at her and she laughs. Is this his idea of flirting? He does know his number by heart. Why did he tell her he doesn't?
She looks at me, still smiling, and says "You have his number, right Jamie?"
I don't know what to say. Of course I have his number, but I don't have my phone with me either. I do know his number by heart, though. Should I give it to her? He could have given it to her himself. I'm confused, and this interaction has thrown me off.
Before I have a chance to speak, Patrick smiles at me and says "Of course Jamie has my number." Then he walks up to me, takes one of the coffee cups from me, and says "thanks, Jame." At the same time, he squeezes my side with his free hand. It's a thoughtless gesture, one he's done plenty of times in the past. I smile at him, thinking nothing of it. But silver-grey obviously picked up a vibe.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you guys were together!" She says, looking genuinely apologetic. I feel like I would like this girl if we'd met under different circumstances. I love her hair, at least.
"We're not." I snap at her. "See you guys around."
I turn to walk towards my car, and I hear Patrick awkwardly say something like "Yeah, Thursday, maybe..".
As I walk down the steps off of the promenade and into the parking lot, I hear Patrick telling me to wait for him. He knows where my car is, and I wanna get Benji inside while there's no other cars driving around. I didn't bother bringing his leash.
I automatically unlock my car, and click my tongue at Benji, commanding him to run over to my car. He obeys, and when I open the back door for him, he jumps in obediently. I close the door and go to open the drivers door.
"You're driving back then?" Patrick asks. His tone is a little less friendly than it has been the rest of the day.
"Yeah." I say. Then I add, "I'd have driven myself if you weren't here anyway." before climbing into the drivers seat.
I start up the engine and open the back seat windows for Benji. Patrick climbs into the passengers seat, being careful not to kick my guitar. He picks it up and holds on to it, there's not enough room for his legs and my guitar on the floor.
"What was that about Thursday?" I say to him as I begin driving away from the beach. I don't look at him, I'm focusing on the road.
"Those girls asked if we were playing at the Grill on Thursday when you were in the coffee shop. I said we probably would be." He explains.
"So you told them you'll see them on Thursday?" I ask, trying to stop myself from sounding as pissed as I feel. He hasn't done anything wrong. He didn't even give that girl his number. It's not like he's mine. I have no reason to be annoyed with him right now.
"Well, yeah. Maybe. If they come to watch us play." He says innocently.
"Cool." Yeah, I'm not doing so good a job of trying to not sound pissed.
"Are you annoyed about that?" He asks. I can tell that he's smiling. He's enjoying my jealous response to a perfectly normal conversation between him and some girls.
"No, I'm not annoyed." I say, trying extra hard to sound normal. I think I managed that time. I even throw in a little laugh. "Why would I be annoyed?" I ask casually.
"Oh." He sounds a little thrown off. "I thought you thought I'd agreed to meet up with that girl on Thursday night or something."
"Nope." I say, cool, calm, and collected. "And even if you had, I wouldn't be annoyed about that. Girls come on to you in front of me all the time, it's nothing new to me." I sound so flippant, I am nailing this.
But he doesn't say anything. I'm concentrating on the road ahead of me, but I had expected him to say something. It's been like a minute, and he isn't speaking. I turn to face him, and he's looking out the passenger window. Shit, did I piss him off? Was I acting too flippant? Fuck. I look back at the road, I need to concentrate on driving.
"You were pretty quick to correct that girl when she thought we were 'together'" He throws some air quotations around the word 'together'.
Crap, he seems pretty pissed. And we've had such an amazing day so far. I need to do something.
"I didn't wanna cramp your style. Come on, dude. I would never do that to you." I smile, but it's a fake smile. And as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I've said the wrong thing.
I turn to look at him, and he's staring intently out the passenger side window. He hasn't said anything. I try to think of something else to say to make him feel better. My eyes are on the road ahead now, but my mind is focusing on what I should say right now. I mean, we aren't together. Surely that comment didn't annoy him? I don't think it did. He's not crazy. He knows what's up, just as much as I do. And that is... Okay, well, I guess we both have absolutely no idea what's up. We slept together last night. Twice. And he fucked me up against the wall in my shower this morning. God, even thinking about it now, I can feel heat building up between my thighs. But that's not important right now. Well, actually, it's extremely important. The fact that I'm feeling this way towards him now. It's confusing. And I've been ignoring all the unasked questions about what's going on between us. So has he. We've just been enjoying this time together, in our bubble. And it's been awesome. Until now. Shit, what have we done?!
"You're freaking out about everything now, aren't you?" He says quietly, still not looking at me.
"No. Are you?" I lie. And I keep my eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead of me.
He sighs. "I've been trying to not overthink this. But we can't just ignore it forever."
"So..." I say. I cough. Suddenly, I'm nervous again. "You wanna talk about it?"
He pulls his beanie off and ruffles a hand through his hair. God, please don't. Too sexy.
"We should, but not right now." He looks over at me at last. "It's been a fun morning. I don't wanna burst the bubble just yet, I guess."
He knows about our bubble too. I love that. And I can't help but smile. A fun morning. I check the time on my dash and discover it's only just after noon. Wow, I thought it would be later. That's good though. It means I have more time with him. You know, before our bubble bursts.
"I agree. Can we just... I don't know. Stay normal, for the rest of the day?" I can't face the reality of our situation just yet. "We can barricade all the doors to my house and watch movies all day. Maybe order a pizza later?"
"And how do we let the pizza delivery guy in with all the doors barricaded?" He's smiling again, thank god.
I laugh, and start making stupid suggestions as to how we could get a pizza delivered to my house without actually having to talk to the delivery guy, or open the door to take the pizza from him. We end up agreeing that we should leave a message with the pizza place asking the delivery guy to knock on my garage door four times, before yelling 'swordfish!' leaving the pizza outside the garage door and fucking off. Then, we grab it before it goes cold. Or gets eaten by squirrels. He plugs his phone in and puts on some unnecessarily heavy metal rock song he knows I'll complain about, and we're back to normal. Thank god, I was a little worried back there.
As we pull on to my street, the sky darkens and it starts to rain a little.
"Fuck, that's gonna get heavier for sure." He says, looking up at the sky. "We may need to rethink the pizza delivery plan."
"Hmm, we could shove an umbrella into the grass beside my driveway, and tell the delivery guy to leave the box underneath it."
He laughs. "Or we could abandon the stupid pizza plan, and actually try to cook something for a change. Assuming there is anything other than Cornflakes in your kitchen?"
"Fuck off, you know I love Cornflakes." I frown at him playfully.
"I know, I know." He's smiling at me. I cannot wait to get him back underneath my blankets with me.
But, that's not gonna happen again today. Reality comes crashing down on top of me as we approach my house.
"Shit." I say under my breath. We both recognise the jeep parked in my driveway. It belongs to our best friend and the front man of our band.
Jay's here.