21| Restoring the Aesthetic for Brain Purposes
TO text or not to text.
I was back on my Hamlet shit; to be or not to be.
Still really proud of myself for remembering Hamlet.
I was sitting in my robe drinking a second cup of coffee, which I almost never did. But I'd been up late last night working on my client's wedding in the second bedroom of my apartment I used as a little office. More often than not, it was impossible for me to put my planning books and spreadsheets and mood boards away if I was on a roll; last night, I couldn't stop until I figured out the exact color palette down to the hex code.
(A perfect mauve: A6808C, a light tan: CCB7AE, and an off-white: D6CFCB.)
So I had another cup of coffee and sat outside in my robe on my balcony. I'd woken up later than usual since I went to bed pretty late, and it was already almost 11 o'clock. For me, that was pretty late in the day for having not done anything yet. I liked to wake up early and start early. But today was Sunday, and I hardly worked on Sundays unless I attended one of the events I was planning.
Today, though, there was nothing to be done.
If there was nothing to be done, I usually spent the first half of the day cleaning my apartment, going to the store and stocking up on things I was out of (which was most usually pancake mix because wow, I ate a lot of pancakes and waffles), and then the second half of the day, I would sit down and watch some movies. Or, I would go on Pinterest and add pins to my favorite boards; I had a board for my dream wedding, a board for my dream husbands (you know, Tom Felton, Michael B. Jordan, etc.), and a board for inspirational quotes. Because quotes were so fun.
Except my apartment was totally clean, and I was stocked on groceries because I'd been cooped up and busy working so many days in a row that Logan brought over whatever I was lacking. She was such an angel sometimes.
There was nothing to clean, nothing to stock up on, and nothing to do.
Which is why I was debating to text or not to text Tyler.
We'd only been texting each other back and forth throughout the week, and actually a lot more than I expected after the last time we'd hung out. Which I was still thinking about and getting butterflies from a week and a half later.
Okay, my feet had been practically numb for a good 20 minutes after Tyler's impromptu swim, but it was worth it. It was worth it to feel Tyler kissing me, even though the lines were still a little blurred, and I had no idea where we stood exactly. I wasn't good at the whole 'vague relationship' thing. I sucked at anything casual, and I didn't know how to navigate a relationship that hadn't even been defined as a relationship in the first place.
I wanted to think that Tyler and I had something between us. Sparks, as cliché as it was.
I hadn't told anyone about spending the day with Tyler and everything that happened at Lake Lanier. Cayden and Jeremy knew I'd gone out with him, so they demanded all of the details, but I didn't give them all of the details (which made me feel kind of rebellious and just a little bad – I knew how much they loved their gossip). I told them about making breakfast at Tyler's, and then about how we went to Lake Lanier. But I left out the picnic, and our very cold make out session.
Yeah, make out session. Thinking of that just made me blush about a thousand times harder than usual. I made out with Tyler. In a lake. I felt so much like a rebel.
But then again, I didn't really know what I was rebelling against exactly.
Either way, it didn't matter. I really liked Tyler, and the only reason I was withholding information was because I knew I would get judged. Cayden especially. He was the best at advice, and I loved him so much. But I knew how he worried about my, uh, 'relationship-not-relationship' with Tyler, which I could understand. Still. I wanted to enjoy the feelings I felt when I was around Tyler, and right now, those feelings were very good. Warm. And very a lot.
Alright. I was totally going to text him.
What would be the harm? None, I knew that was the answer. We'd been texting all week, and it was finally my day off. If I was lucky, Tyler had some time, too. If not, then it wouldn't hurt to text him and sit at home all day. There was something so special about getting a text from someone you're totally into; you sit by and wait for their response and you feel giddy to ask them another question, or answer whatever one they asked. It's not the mildly-depressing kind of waiting that you do when you want someone to text you, but they never do. It's the heartwarming, butterfly-inducing type of waiting that you do when you have someone who wants to talk to you, and likes you back.
I knew that much: that Tyler liked me back. He wouldn't have kissed me otherwise. It was a question of how much. Or if there was a limit. That's what I think Cayden was most wary of.
I finally clicked on Tyler's name, opening up our latest messages. The last message was from yesterday around 7 pm. He had been watching some weird Adam Sandler movie that actually wasn't a comedy, and he'd basically given me a play-by-play.
CLAY: Hey, what are you doing today?
It wasn't an instant response, but I sat there waiting. It took almost 5 minutes, but my phone finally buzzed.
TYLER: shit sorry, i don't have anything going on. it's been a minute since we've seen each other
TYLER: you can come over
I smiled and felt those butterflies fluttering around my chest. I definitely wanted to see Tyler.
TYLER: SHIT WAIT NO
TYLER: it's a mess over here. i can't have you walking in on this literal mess.
CLAY: How bad of a mess?
TYLER: it's uh...it's just gotten real bad, ok, i'm not good at keeping things clean when i'm stressed
So he was stressed. About what, I didn't exactly know. But from last week, I knew he'd had a rough night after basketball. So maybe it was still a basketball issue. Or maybe it was a school-starting-soon issue. Or maybe it was something completely different. Either way, I knew that things got hard when stress was a bigger factor. Noah told me a psychology fact about stress once:
Stress kills brain cells, but a calm environment helps them grow.
CLAY: I'm coming over
CLAY: I'm going to permit brain cell growth
✿✿✿
As I said, my Sundays were pretty normally filled with cleaning. I'd always been a pretty tidy person, and I liked when every item had a place. I also really liked newly vacuumed carpets, swept and mopped floors, and dusted and wiped surfaces. There was something so satisfying about when everything was clean like new, and smelled like lemongrass.
When I showed up to Tyler's apartment, I was heavily prepared. I had a bag full of supplies that I religiously used for my Sunday cleaning sprees, and when Tyler answered the door, I knew that I would need them.
"Oh my god, you were right. It is a mess!" I exclaimed, smiling and walking into the apartment.
I heard the door shut while I put my bag down on the counter and examined the mess.
"You brought a whole broom?" Tyler said, walking over to the counter and standing at my side. "And you're smiling?"
I nodded eagerly. "Well, I was pretty sure you didn't already own a broom, so I brought one because everyone needs it. And I'm totally excited about this."
Tyler looked at me like I was insane, which was partially true depending on who you asked. I guess not everyone found cleaning to be really exciting. But I loved it.
"Well, I'm excited about this," Tyler said, taking my hand and leaning up to kiss me.
I turned my head at the last second, so he kissed my cheek, and then I pulled away and started emptying my bag of supplies. Tyler was looking at me, this time with his mouth agape.
"I cannot believe you dodged me," he said, cracking a smile.
"There's no time for any foolery, there's only time for cleaning!" I exclaimed.
"What, you're not actually gonna help me clean this, are you?" Tyler asked, gesturing to his pretty widespread mess.
"Of course I am."
"Clay," Tyler said, leaning against the counter, "you seriously don't have to. I want to hang out with you, but this isn't exactly a fun or cute thing."
"It doesn't have to be. I want to help," I persisted, walking over to grab his hand. I wanted him to know that I wasn't doing this just to be nice, or because I was really so impatient to see him. I mean, I definitely liked seeing him. A lot. But that wasn't the point.
"People who like each other help each other out," I said. "And I like you. Meaning, I want to help you. Besides, cleaning is basically one of my hobbies when I'm not working. I'm really good at it. Oh! And I said I was permitting brain cell growth, meaning, you said you were stressed, and having a calmer environment will do that for you! Restoring the aesthetic for brain purposes."
Tyler sighed. "Are you sure?"
I decided to kiss him, ignoring the fact that I literally just said there was no time for that. It was a total lie anyway, and I really regretted dodging the kiss. So I was the one to take initiative, which was still new to me. But I tipped my head down and pressed my lips to his. Just quickly.
"I'm incredibly sure," I said, then pulled away and looked around the apartment. "And we're gonna have to start in that corner!"
✿✿✿
"Slipper mops?"
"Slipper mops!" I exclaimed. "You put them on your feet and you just run around and guess what? Clean floors!"
"What in the mother of fuck," Tyler said, walking over to examine my sweet kicks. Aka my slipper mops. They were pretty cool. "Where did you get these?"
"They were a gift," I told him, then slipped them on my feet and stood up from the sofa. "Are you ready to see them in action and put the final touch on your now lovely apartment?"
It had been at least 4 hours of cleaning; we started in the corner of his living room and worked our way through the mess, putting things into their correct places and throwing anything that wasn't needed away. We made trips to the trash chute, wiped down every visible surface, and made sure the floor was swept.
And now, it was my turn to mop.
My cleaning music was playing over his sound system, which had been great for the past 4 hours. There were so many bops that I couldn't contain my love for, and Tyler had to witness the One Direction "No Control" dance because there was no way I couldn't do it. The whole cleaning thing was really fun, though. Tyler helped and basically did whatever I asked him to or instructed, and it was a really good time. At least, I was pretty sure we were both having fun with it. It wasn't quite as cliché and cute as the cleaning montage in Another Cinderella Story, but it had the same vibes. And that's what really counted.
"Go for it. Mop with those feet!" Tyler said.
I grinned and stepped onto the floor. My foot mops were probably my favorite cleaning tool because of how surprisingly efficient they were at making the floors all shiny and clean. I started sliding around on Tyler's floors, moving to the beat of the music, which made him laugh.
"Okay, you're right, those are sick," Tyler said when I slid around back to the kitchen and started to head around the counter.
"If you're lucky, someday you'll own a pair of these, as well!" I exclaimed, spinning around the counter.
I kind of took the turn too fast and too furious, though, because I nearly fell. Thankfully, Tyler was right there and put his hands on my arms to steady me.
"Careful there," Tyler said. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt cleaning. What kind of lame death story is that?"
I smiled and Tyler let go of my arms. I sat back down on one of the bar stools and took off the slippers, taking in the beauty of the nice shiny floors and Tyler's newly cleaned apartment.
"Thank you for all of this," Tyler said, and he leaned forward and kissed my cheek, which made me flush. He walked around to the other side of the counter, propping himself up on top and sitting. "It's been a mess lately. Tangibly and in my head, too. So I appreciate all of the help."
"I'm glad to help, seriously," I told him. "I don't know, I know you've been stressed. And if there's anything I can do to help you out, then just know that I'm here."
"It's not even a big thing, you know? It's just a mix of basketball shit and my own head. I don't know," Tyler said, shaking his head. "I think sometimes I feel so inadequate and unsure of myself when I look at everyone else. It makes me feel a little lost. And I've been pretty good about my anger, but lately, there have been times when all I've wanted to do is punch the wall."
"Woah," I said. "I didn't think you seemed angry. I've never seen you anything but, I don't know ... great."
He smiled weakly. "I grew up with some pretty big anger issues. I was just kind of an asshole. That's what Alex told me," he said. "All of it kind of escalated when I first thought I was gay. I just repressed it."
"Why?"
Tyler shrugged. "Because I was an idiot who thought that just because I played basketball and was surrounded by a bunch of dudes that I couldn't possibly be gay. I just grew up with the belief that I was straight, and I followed whatever my teammates were doing. They flirted with girls, so I did, too. It never felt genuine for me, but I just did it becuase I thought it was right.
"I'm fine with my sexuality and shit now, obviously. Sometimes I can't even believe that I was such a little dick about everything. But I guess it was just the way shit was. The anger just comes from the past, and the past trying to push itself into the present," he said. "I've gone to therapy. I have my techniques that help calm me down when I feel myself slipping, but I know I still make questionable choices, sometimes completely wrong decisions, irrational ones, too. I still don't know how to completely prevent it all from happening. And I guess that's what's been going on in my fucked up head."
I reached forward and took Tyler's hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. I didn't miss how he flinched a little, but he eased into the contact and relaxed. Something told me he was flinching because he was afraid; not afraid of me as a whole (I hoped), but afraid of how much he was letting free and telling me about. This was exactly what I wanted.
I wanted to know more about Tyler on a deeper level. Everything he was sharing was already levels beyond anything he'd already told me. And it felt good. I wanted him to feel good, too.
"I want to be there for you. I will be," I told him. I meant it so much. But at the same time, I didn't want to make him uncomfortable by consoling him too much. Opening up didn't seem like something he enjoyed doing most of the time, and I didn't want to push him or put pressure on him. "I promise you don't have to tell me everything, and you don't have to talk about the things that you don't want to. But I'm here. And I really like to be here."
Tyler smiled. "I like you to be here, too. Slipper mops and all."
"They're pretty cool, aren't they?"
"They're amazing," Tyler said, and his hand squeezed mine, making my heart surge. "Let's watch a movie."
✿✿✿
Heeeeey guyssss welcome to the second chapter OF THE WEEEEEEEK!!!
I have just about fleshed out the entirety of this story (planning-wise), and IM SO EXCITED YOU GUYS!!! I really can't wait to upload more chapters for y'all. Ideally, I'd be able to do more than 2 a week but unfortunately, I AM WAY BEHIND WRITING. But I'm getting better.
The classic cleaning date reminds me of Another Cinderella Story, the Selena Gomez one. Aka the best one. DONT FIGHT ME ON IT. We love Joey Parker.
Also Clay is me. I love cleaning shit up and making it look so damn sparkly and clean. He's also so cute. And precious. Goddamn.
Tyler is opening up a liiiiiiiiittle more, but he's still a little guarded. Either way, they're figuring this shit out.
Cute chapters ahead, and possibly... POSSIBLY... the origin story of PORKCHOP'S NICKNAME.
Maybe. If I'm feeling generous.
ILY!!! If you're in the USA, please VOTE!! Don't throw away your vote by voting for a 3rd party, vote blue. Im gonna outright say it. USE YOUR VOICE.