Tonight, Not Again

Rob’s apartment was a complete wreck. I couldn’t even put into words how I felt, standing in the doorway staring at the mountain of god-knows-what that covered every square inch of the place. Speechless, I looked at Rob. He stood behind me, scratching his neck, also at a loss for words. I’d stopped by to return a book that he lent me the week before; though, standing there I wish I would have just mailed it to him.
“You’re sister is going to be here tomorrow afternoon.” My hands were on my hips as I looked around. Rob just stood there, taking a gulp. “Do you want me to help you clean?”
“Well, I just wanted my book back.” He grinned that crooked grin. “But if you’re offering—”
“It would take days.” If he thought that I owed him one for inviting me to that party, he had another thing coming. I rubbed my forehead, wanting nothing more than to smack myself. I’d let myself walk right into this one—I thought he actually liked me.
“Zo, I’m kidding.” Rob’s voice suddenly got softer. “Liz is going to be here for a few weeks…I wasn’t sure how often I’d be able to see you…”
“Huh?” I’d momentarily been distracted by his lips.
“I, uh, I just wanted to see you…ya’ know, before Liz got here.”

As if I couldn’t make myself do otherwise, I ignored his comment and began rummaging through the heap of stuff. I couldn’t fall in love. Everyone was telling me that it was the wrong thing to do, fresh out of a long relationship. I’d been persistent in disregarding everything they said, but in a moment of weakness I caved. And what if Rob meant that he only wanted to “get some” before his sister showed up?

“What are you doing?” Rob looked a little taken aback as I unloaded and armful of empty pizza boxes and Hot Pockets wrappers into the trash.
“I’m going to help you clean.” I bit my lip to hide my doubt. Robert Pattinson and Zoey Tyler were never going to get anywhere. “Do you have more trash bags?”

…

“This place is atrocious,” I sighed as I heaved a pile of Rob’s dirty laundry into the washing machine. Rob winced.

Two hours of sterilizing had made me a little moody. But Rob hadn’t left me on my own; he dug out all the cleaning supplies he owned—which was a surprising amount—and got down on his hands and knees to scrub the refrigerator when I noticed something resembling mold on the bottom shelf.
When I barreled through the barrier of clothes to his room, Rob shifted uncomfortably from his spot in the kitchen. Once I emerged with a bushel of laundry, he stiffened and told me that I was not going to do his laundry. An hour later, once the first load was finished, he wasn’t complaining.

“No offense, but I just scraped something green and fuzzy off of your kitchen counter—why would anyone want to shack up with you for weeks at a time?”
“Not fair—I haven’t been home a lot lately,” Rob countered. I could vouch for that—he’d been at my house for the most part. “But Sam, he’s an old friend. And he’s a guy…so he gets it.”
One of Rob’s good friends was coming to stay with him in November. His sister was leaving near the end of October. The guy was completely booked. Between promoting New Moon and his guests, I was never going to see him.
“Detergent?” He handed me the blue jug and hoisted himself onto the dryer. “Well, you’re going to be pretty busy then.”
“Sort of, I guess.” Rob dumped a bit of fabric softener into the mix. “Sam’s a big boy. He’s actually here for his music, so I probably won’t even see him. But I’ve got a lot of New Moon stuff coming up soon.”
“Right…” I sighed. New Moon. If I read another headline about Rob fucking Kristen Stewart, I was going to deck her a good one. I was frustrated. By what, I wasn’t sure. It was either because Rob was becoming sparse, or because I was upset that Rob was becoming sparse. “So does your sister eat?”
“Of course she does.” Rob followed me into the kitchen, unsure what the hell I was talking about.
“Well, you haven’t got a single scrap of edible food. Come on, I’ll drive.”

After a few weeks of “getting together”, we began accompanying one another on errands. It was like we both realized how pathetic it was to call up for sex (or “booty calling” as Adrienne put it), it just seemed right to do something prior to winding up naked in bed. The weekly outings began: going to the laundry mat, why don’t you come. Renting movies for the weekend, tell me what I should choose. So, grocery shopping together wasn’t a huge feat. There were at least three photos of us leaving the market circulating through the magazines and the Internet.
We were becoming friends. Best friends who just happened to sleep with one another three nights out of seven. And that made this relationship about a thousand times harder for me. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I was beginning to understand why Adrienne had warned against it. It was too difficult to keep up with, but that didn’t mean I was taking myself out of the game. I wanted to be with him, even if it wasn’t the best thing for me.

Rob and I hopped into my car, shopping lists in hand. I had to admit, I was a little fearful at thought of him cooking for someone else. He never ate at his place and when he did, it was usually take-out or something else incredibly fast and easy to whip up. The last time I spent the night at his place, he nearly set it ablaze trying to microwave something. I hoped Lizzy knew how to cook.

“Here.” I handed him a beat up CD case. The radio could only pick up white noise so I had invested in a CD player. “I think most of them are in my house, but it’s better than nothing.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Rob made a face as he looked through the case. There were five CDs. “You’ve got ABBA’s greatest hits, something titled ‘Work It, Baby’—which I’m not sure I want to know the background story on, ‘Freewheelin’ Mix’ and two without names.”
“Oh hush, I know you like ABBA.” I shook my head. He looked confused. “I watch E!”
“Well…that, that was…” Rob blushed slightly and opted for the ‘Freewheelin’ Mix’. Once we pulled onto the street, I noticed he was humming along with my favorite Aretha Franklin song.

…

“Lizzy’s a great cook.” We walked down one of the aisles and grabbed items from the shelves. “She’s mad that I’ve been eating so poorly so she wants to make my meals—cooking is like, her ‘thing’.”
“Does she know you’ve recently gotten most of your meals out of my fridge?” I laughed. I suddenly felt so much better, being out of his apartment.
“No.” He busied himself with the vast array of cereal boxes. I hadn’t told my parents about him, so I was certain he had yet to mention me. But that was fine. We weren’t going to introduce one another as “fuck buddies” (Adrienne’s term, not mine).
“So she’s flying across the Atlantic just to make sure her baby brother is eating properly?”
“I guess she just wanted to come for a visit.” He finally decided on Cap’n Crunch. Typical.
“Are you two close?” I knocked a box of strawberry Pop tarts into the cart. I knew his sisters’ names, but I knew nothing about them.
“Yeah, Lizzy’s only a couple of years older than I am. We get along well.”
“That’ll be fun then, plus you’re getting a week of home cooked meals out of the deal.” Rob nodded excitedly and rubbed his stomach.

We rounded the corner and in mid-conversation, I felt my heart plummet to the pit of my stomach. There was Brett, standing at the deli counter with a petite, dark-haired girl attached to his waist. I watched him closely as Rob continued talking, telling me something about his sister—but I wasn’t listening at all. Everything I had ever felt for Brett, pre and post breakup, came rushing back into me. It was the biggest tidal wave of emotions I had ever felt, and it brought tears to my eyes.
“Shit.”
“That’s what I said,” Rob agreed enthusiastically, completely missing my slack-jawed stare. “I mean, if you’re going to do something like that you’ve got to take the consequences.” He looked at me again, catching my expression. “…that’s not what you’re talking about is it?”
“My ex is over there.” I pointed stupidly and Rob looked over at the deli counter.
“So that’s the infamous Brett, eh?” He looked Brett up and down, folding his arms across his chest. “And that is Whore from Economics Class Number One?”
“Nope.” It really wasn’t. It wasn’t Whore from Economics Class Number Two either. Wow….”
“I’ll take you right now in the bread aisle if that’ll make you feel better?” He looked incredibly sincere, which made me giggle.
“As tempting as it sounds, right here with Aunt Millie and the gang, I’m going to pass.”
“If you say so…” Rob slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest. “I mean, if you’re absolutely sure…”
“Rob,” I squeaked, slightly embarrassed by the pitch of my voice. He just grinned and accepted my playful beating. Once my face had cooled down, I looked at my shopping list. I would just keep shopping with Rob. I would walk right past Brett and never think of him again.
But I needed turkey. Sliced, deli turkey.
“You need turkey don’t you?” Rob’s brow knitted and he glanced at Brett. “I’ll get it.”

He walked over and took his place in line behind Brett and his gal pal. The entire time he stood there, he scrutinized them. Once he looked over at me, pointing at the girl and then giving me a thumbs down. He glanced at her again and then proceeded with two thumbs down. I stood by the bagels, laughing until my stomach hurt. If I would have been here alone, I would have been mortified, which put in an even more awkward situation with Rob. Sighing, I continued to watch Rob. He would casually turn my way and wave every so often.
“What kind of turkey?” My trance was broken when I realized Rob jumping up and down slightly, waving his arms.
“What?” I hissed back, not wanting Brett to notice me.
“What kind of turkey? They’ve got smoked and oven-roasted.” As the words left Rob’s mouth, Brett’s friend realized who he was. “And honey-roasted!” I hide my face just as she tapped Brett on the shoulder. When I looked up through my fingers, Brett was staring at me and Rob was answering every question the girl hurled at him.
“Zoey.” Brett was smirking. Rob looked at me, distress written all over his face. He mouthed his apology and shrugged helplessly. I took that as my cue.
“We’ve really got to be going.” I latched my arm through Rob’s and tried to lead him away.
“Oh, wait!” The girl’s voice was naisely. “Can I get an autograph?”
“Er, yeah. Sure.”
“Do you have a pen?” She turned to me, holding out her hand.
“Excuse me?” I felt my eyes pop out as Rob just chuckled.
“Do you have a pen?” The girl looked irritated. I wanted to sucker punch her right in her overly made-up face.
“Looks like you picked a winner here, Brett.”
“Here!” Rob grabbed one from the man behind the deli counter, who had been watching us closely. He would be the credible source in tomorrow’s tabloid stories.
“So what, are you dating this guy?” Brett shoved his hands in his pockets as Rob scrawled his signature across something. I think it was a napkin.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” I wasn’t about to tell Brett anything about myself, or that I was in fact not dating Rob.
“Come on, you can’t be serious. He’s a celebrity.” By now, Rob was standing behind Brett head tilted to side in interest as to what his next words would be. “Either he’s taking advantage or you’re digging for gold. Why would he date you?”
“That’s the best you’ve got?” I placed my hand over my heart and laughed. It was a little forced due to the fact that all I wanted to do was cry, but it was a laugh nonetheless.
“Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying. You just can’t trust them.” Brett shook his head and stepped aside when he realized Rob was about to burn holes through his head with his stare.
“But you, I can trust you.” I could hear Brett’s voice, pleading with me as I slammed my front door in his face.
“Zoey—" Brett sighed and looked at the floor. “It wasn’t—”
“Just get out of here, please. I need to get my lunchmeat.”
Brett stared at me for at least a minute before indignantly walked away. His apparent girlfriend followed, traipsing along in her high heels. Rob and I were left standing in front of the deli counter in uncomfortable silence.
“So…” Rob bounced on his heels slightly, running a hand through his hair. I groaned, covering my face.
“Is there anything else on your list?” I crumpled my list into a ball and grabbed the cart. As far as I was concerned, this trip was just about over.
“Only a few more things,” Rob watched me carefully. “But I can come back tomorrow or something.”
“No, let’s get them now.” I tried smiling, but my chest felt so tight that I could hardly breathe.
“Zo, I can get them later. Really.” I snatched the list from his hand and continued moving. “Or not.”
…

The ride back to his apartment was a quiet one. At one point, Rob turned the music up and attempted to serenade me with an ABBA song. Despite my laughter, I was miserable. Rob knew it too.

“Where do you want these?” Rob and I stood over the five grocery bags that adorned his lemony-fresh kitchen counter.
“Eh,” he scratched his neck. “I don’t know. Having food—the non-frozen sort—is all new to me.”
“Alright,” I sighed. “Well just follow my lead then.”

We got to work. I emptied the contents of the bags and grouped them. When my mind was completely boggled, I usually switched to intensive organizing—it was almost therapeutic. Rob shoved the bags under the sink and stepped back. He hadn’t said much since running into Brett. He was probably wondering to himself now, “what am I doing with this girl?”
Without realizing it, I’d stopped putting the groceries away. Instead I stood, biting my nail, and staring at the food.

“You didn’t deserve it.” Rob’s voice was quiet and his words hung in the air.
“What?” I shook my head, my thoughts derailed. He was a pro at scrambling my brain.
“Whatever you’re thinking, about Brett cheating on you, whether or not you were good enough for him…you didn’t—you don’t—deserve what he did to you.” Rob crossed the room and leaned against the counter in front of me. I fought back my tears. Whatever his intentions were, Rob knew exactly when to say the right thing—even if he was just trying to be nice.
“You don’t have to say that,” I whispered, trying to avoid eye contact. Why did Brett have such control over my feelings?
“Hey, it’s true.” Rob shook his head. “The guy’s a jackass, Zoey.”
“Well, I agree with you there.” I sighed. “I just thought it was over, you know. I thought he didn’t mean anything to me anymore.”
“Maybe he doesn’t.” I looked up at him curiously. “But three years means something, they have to mean something.”
“What words of wisdom.” Rubbing my eyes, I smiled a little.
“Hey,” he chuckled and held up his hands defensively. “It’s true. I would know.”
“I know. And thank you, really. It would have been twenty times worse if you hadn’t been there.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here for.” Rob just smiled at me, shrugging his shoulders. His smile was becoming infuriating. It had this ridiculous effect on me, like he actually could think of me as something more. I sighed and rested my head in my hands. I didn’t even know what to feel anymore.

“Rob,” I hesitated. Would it really be so wrong of me to tell him? “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything. His blue eyes locked onto my own and he leaned closer. Instead of words, there was a kiss. It was slow and tender, followed by his hands cupping my face to bring me closer. Anything I’d been thinking about was long forgotten.

It was going to be a good night after all.