Stubborn

I placed my feet on the wooden floor and felt a chill slide up my spine, making me shiver. Getting used to the lack of carpeting was going to take a while, so for now I had to resort to the pink fuzzy slippers, which I wore around the new and unfamiliar apartment with indignation. After forcing myself out of the warm comforts of the bed, I padded to the washroom, now located to the right of me and outside a functioning bedroom door. No more accidental sightings of Aaron half naked or having to leave because he and Emma didn’t need a third party observer.

It was, actually, a little depressing to think that I wouldn’t be seeing my two-year roommate every morning I woke and, almost, every night before I went to bed. But Emma understood that things got difficult in my less-than-effortless life and I had to move on, even if it meant leaving the people I cared about the most to fend for themselves. As I brushed my teeth and fiddled with the itchy tag of the large t-shirt I’d thoughtlessly slipped on, I wondered if the washroom at my old dorm was still as neat as when I left it, or whether Emma and Aaron had learned how to clean out the coffee maker, or if they’d figured out that the window above my (former) bed needed a bit of a jiggle to open when it got too hot or too cold out. I guess that was the point of moving on; leaving behind old things that kept you comfortable and reaching towards things that make you nervous or anxious.

With Emma I was just Alex, her slightly neurotic, cynical, easily annoyed best friend, and I liked it that way. I was all figured out and didn’t have to spend time explaining myself. She knew me almost as well as my own mother and even managed to keep the judging under control. She was my confidant and – in some ways – my sister, but how much progress would you make in life if you stuck around your family? None, that’s how much. Sure, I wouldn’t hear her talking in her sleep from the bed next to me anymore, or have to endure her eccentric singing in the shower, or try to reverse her irreversible mistake of colouring her whites pink in the laundry. But, living away from her would make me appreciate all her insanities even more when I actually saw her.

And then there’s Jordan. The annihilator of the simple and comfortable bubble I had created for myself. He saw through every façade I tried to convince myself was real and broke through every wall I put up. In only a few months, and with barely any interaction, he was able to figure me out and I hated it. He may not have known me as well as Emma, but he knew that my decision to move was something I had to do. And as I wiped away any water from my face with the white, linen towel in my new washroom, I wondered what things would be like if none of it had ever happened. If I hadn’t met Jordan at the function that night. If we hadn’t gotten into a gender feud with each other. If we hadn’t almost torn each other apart, physically and mentally.

I walked out of the washroom and down the small hallway, watching as the sunlight from the windows created patterns on the walls. I was tired, yet felt rejuvenated at the same time, like my body understood things had changed and would continue changing for the better. I could only go up from where I was before. My slippers shuffled across the floor loudly, making me cringe with every footstep as I made my way through the living room and to the kitchen. There, I felt at ease, with a slight smile on my face as I watched my past, present, and future merge together; a spatula in one hand and a mixing bowl in the other.

“I’m so glad you moved in,” Jordan said once I hoped up on one of the tall stools around the kitchen island. His brow was furrowed as he picked up the box of pancake mix and read the instructions, for what I guessed was the fifth time. “I really don’t see myself getting through this recipe on my own for breakfast with Emma and Aaron.”

Then again, if I hadn’t met Jordan Staal – hadn’t disagreed with everything he stood for, hadn’t shown up to that club only to spite him, hadn’t kissed him to stick it to Lindsey, hadn’t refused his advances after Tyler’s party, hadn’t slapped him at the next function, hadn’t given into him when I thought I could stay strong, hadn’t avoided all my conflicting feelings and acted like nothing had happened, and hadn’t gone with him on that drive – then I wouldn’t be where I was now. Sitting across from him in the kitchen where a lot of our problems began, wearing his baggy t-shirt, and understanding that having him around was something I was going to have to get used to.

For once, that was exactly how I wanted things to be.

He looked up from the box, noticing that I was being exceptionally quite, and flashed me a smile. I didn’t want to recite everything that had gone through my head since I walked in. Seeing him being just as comfortable around me as if we’d known each other forever made me want to say as little as possible to ruin it, so I just smiled back.

“Oh, I get it,” he said with a smirk, “you’re just gonna sit there and watch me suffer.” I shrugged, teasingly, and he picked up the mixing bowl and pancake mix and brought it over to my side, placing them in front of me. “What you’re going to do is sit here and help me survive this even if it means a few kisses here and there and maybe stroking my ego for encouragement.”

I chuckled. “You make those pancakes good, don’t you?” I put on the sultriest voice I could muster and he laughed, pressing his chest against my back and wrapping his long arms around me.

He placed his lips close to my ear. “See, that wasn’t so hard,” he whispered.

No, it wasn’t hard at all. None of it was. And yet, I had always been the kind of person who was convinced it was. If anything, I had made life that much harder for myself. Looking back, if I hadn’t spent those few months questioning my morals and slowly going insane, I wouldn’t have realized that that one stupid night, at that one stupid function, with that one stupid hockey player made things all the more easier when it came to figuring myself out.

Some may say I’m stubborn.

I’d say…I’m working on it.