It's Worse Than You Think

“Go through it again.”

I swear he was enjoying this way too much. I rolled my eyes and groaned, leaning on my elbows over the counter. “Finn, I’ve told you a hundred times.”

“Sorry, I just wish I could have been there to see him ask you out. But someone wanted some coffee or something . . . Damn it!”

“He didn’t ask me out!” I protested, “Both of you saw my apartment. I’m in need of some furniture. He offered to help. End of story.”

As I spoke, a part of me actually didn’t want to believe what I was saying. Was he just being nice? The idea of Zeke possibly liking me, kind of makes me want to bust out into a huge ass grin. Even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t change how excited I am. It’s almost lame, how much I’m looking forward to this.

I’m not going to lie, though. I’m probably just as a surprised as Finn. When I realized what Zeke was actually asking, I couldn’t believe that it was coming from him. I never thought he’d the one to initiate anything. But I’m certainly not complaining, because look where it’s getting us.

“Hey, you guys,” I heard, and whirled around only to see Zeke’s neck. Was I really that fucking short? I mean, I knew that he was taller then me, but I didn’t know that it was so noticeable. That’s annoying. “Are your shifts . . . over?” His voice faltered at the look his best friend was giving him, and I couldn’t help but allow my lips to curve up into a smirk. At the same time though, I didn’t want Finn to mortify Zeke completely and make him regret everything.

“Hello, Zeke.”

“H-Hi Finn,” he murmured, a blush growing on his cheeks.

“Anything you’d like to share with me?”

Zeke looked over to me, and swallowed hard. “I don’t know. But Marshall and I have to go. Lot’s to . . . do.”

“Have fun,” he winked, and I laughed while following Zeke out of the coffee shop, who was currently rushing over to his car as if Finn was right behind him badgering him with embarrassing questions.

“Finn’s an asshole,” he muttered as we pulled out of the parking lot, earning a quiet laugh from me.

“So where exactly are we going?” I wondered.

Zeke smiled softly, “Have you ever heard of IKEA?”

“IKEA?” I blurted out, “I fucking love that place!” And it was true: how can you not like that department store? I can spend hours there, just roaming around. Even when I don’t have any money to buy anything, which is often, I still have a great time. “Thanks for inviting me to do this.” He glanced at me for a moment with a shy expression etched across his features, and shrugged. Jesus, is there anything about him that isn’t adorable?

“It’s no problem.”

For the rest of the ride we sat in comfortable silence. For some reason, it was entertaining to watch him drive. The way he’d tap his hands against the steering wheel whenever we were stopped at a red light. Or the way he’d peek over at me every few minutes when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. But I always was.

A couple of blocks later the building came into sight, and I started wiggling around in my seat out of excitement. This trip with Zeke means that I’ll finally be able to get some furniture in my apartment. It won’t be fucking empty anymore. The hard floor doesn’t exactly do wonders for my back, or my general health, to be completely honest.

I hadn’t even realized we stopped until I realized that Zeke was staring at me. “Are you ready?”

“Definitely.” Definitely, I mocked in my mind. I really need to start thinking through what I say before I actually say it, don’t I?

--

I busted out in laughter as Zeke skip-ran over to the area that was set up like a living room, and chased after him. “What about his one?” he questioned, plopping down onto the dark brown couch.

I sat down next to him, and let out a sigh. “I don’t know if it’s really me.”

He pursed his lips, and fake glared at me. “You’ve said that about the last seven couches, Marshall.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Have I?”

He smiled, and I struggled not to stare at him dreamily. “Yes. If it’s not you, then . . . who are you?” Zeke asked dramatically, and I chuckled, leaning my head back.

“I guess I don’t have a clue. I just feel like when I see it, I’ll know that it’s the one. Does that make sense?”

Zeke nodded, and stood up. “Maybe we should skip couches, and start looking for other stuff, too.”

“Good idea. Let’s find a bed frame and mattress!” I exclaimed, leaping up with a grin plastered over my face. Honestly, I don’t have a clue as to why I’m being so hyper and open around him. I mean, it’s the first time we’ve been alone together, and it hasn’t even been awkward. That’s a fucking success in my book.

We walked towards a random bedroom, and I scanned over it with judgmental eyes. Zeke noticed my apprehensive expression, and raised an eyebrow. “You’re picky, aren’t you?”

I pouted, “No. I just want everything to be perfect. Shit, that’s kind of the same thing, isn’t it?” I didn’t wait for him to respond, and leaned down onto the bed, trying it out. I froze when I felt the mattress weigh down, and could feel Zeke right next to me. Jesus.

I propped myself up on my elbows, and hesitantly looked over at him, only to see him already staring at me. I smirked as pink scattered across his cheeks, and he averted his attention to the ceiling; clearing his throat. “What do you think about this bed set?”

Why do I feel like we’re some couple, shopping for furniture to fill our dream home up with? “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

Zeke sat all the way up, and gazed down on me with a stern expression. “I think you should get this. It’s in your price range, and it’s practically on the verge of being perfect.”

“Is it now?” I challenged.

His face softened slightly, and my lip twitched in amusement while watching him try to keep a tough demeanor. “Yes it is.”

“Alright then,” I agreed easily, hardly thinking about it.

Zeke appeared surprised, and I laughed. “Really?”

“Sure. You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t think you should really listen to-”

“Too late. Hey, let’s pick out some lamps.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, his head tilted in thought. Seriously, not tackling him is getting harder and harder as this day goes on. “I think those are downstairs,” Zeke finally said, standing up to crack his back.

“Onwards!” I shouted, pointing my finger out of the room. If my stupidity can get Zeke to grin like that, then the rest of this afternoon is going to be amazing.

We wandered around IKEA for a few hours, popping into every room and writing down the numbers for items I eventually decided that I wanted. I had to admit, I never knew how difficult I could be before today. Zeke definitely deserved props for putting up with me, really.

“It’s hot in here,” he muttered as we stood in line for the cashier, rolling up the sleeves of his green cardigan so it went to the middle of his upper arm. “Can you believe we’ve been here for four hours already?”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” I replied lamely, earning a bashful smile from him. Zeke turned his attention away from me, watching a family that was a few feet away from us. For a moment, I wondered why he was so fascinated by them, before taking this as a chance to discreetly check him out.

My eyes widened when I noticed marks on his forearms, and I had to squint slightly to realize that they were actually scars. You could tell that they were old, but that didn’t make them any harder to spot. Some were longer then others, and they went in all different directions.

I quickly turned away from him, my teeth gnawing nervously on my bottom lip. I’m not exactly an expert, but it wasn’t hard to guess what they were from. I moved my feet mindlessly as we went further in line, and struggled to understand what I was seeing. From what I know about Zeke, I just don’t fucking see it. And I can’t just ask him about it, can I?

‘Hey Zeke, tell me about the time where you were so depressed, you cut yourself’. That’ll surely lead to a lovely conversation. Or maybe they aren’t even self inflicted, and he got in some bad accident when he was younger. The way they’re shaped on his arm, though . . .

It doesn’t really matter, because I want to know: I want him to want me to know. That’s what’s important.

I looked back at Zeke as he handed the cashier our item cards, and noticed his sleeves were back down. Shit. Was I that obvious? I was vaguely listening as the guy told me everything would be delivered to me soon, and eventually I realized that I’d been quiet for way too fucking long.

“I’m so excited!” I shouted once we were out of the store, determined to act like the last ten minutes had never happened. For his sake. He simply smirked as we made our way over to his car. He got ahead of me, and I swallowed hard at the way his hips were swaying side to side.

I think I’m getting a small crush on this boy.