Sunspots and Raindrops

When I said that I would be spending the day watching movies on Pay-Per-View, I apparently meant that I would get ten minutes into one and then fall asleep.

Because that’s exactly what happened.

I woke up to my phone going off upstairs in my room The movie I had been watching was over and I was back at the menu of the Pay-Per-View network. I turned the television off and looked behind me at the clock. It was almost six o’clock and from what I could tell, my mom still hadn’t set foot in the house.

I stretched and then trudged up the stairs, diving onto my bed and looking at my phone. I actually had several new text messages, the most recent being from Brendon.

I opened it and read:

Don’t be mad.

I obviously didn’t know what that meant. However, before I could spend too much time thinking about it, the doorbell rang and was followed up by three knocks.

I was confused.

I jogged downstairs and when I got to the door, nothing was there but a vase of white and red daisies.

I was on a level of confusion I had never reached before has I picked up the bundle and then looked around my yard. There was nothing and no one to be seen for a three block radius. I walked back in my house and closed the front door.

I examined the flowers, but found no note on them.

Then, with a visceral feeling of sickness, I wondered if they were from the guy that my mom had met the other day.

I was half-tempted to throw them away. But I knew that she would be pissed. So, I set them on the counter and returned to my spot on the couch. I squirmed deep into the cushions and opened a text to Brendon.

Just throw something at my window already. I’m bored.

Send. Gone.

I couldn’t quite understand the feeling that had come over me since Brendon had come into my life. I felt lighter. Like after you get done sledding and you strip off all of your sopping wet arctic-level gear and feel the warmth of the fireplace that’s just behind you.

But I guess life in a desert doesn’t really know what that feels like.

My phone vibrated only a few minutes later and I picked it up, excited to read what Brendon had to say to me. But to my dismay, the text was from a number that I did not know.

I opened it and read:

Harley’s party?

It was from Travis, so I replied quickly and distractedly, hoping he’d get the point:

Still haven’t decided. Busy.

Subtlety wasn’t one of my dominant traits.

I snuggled down into the pillows and thoughtlessly watched the Food Network on mute. I wasn’t hungry, but everything sounded delicious after just waking up. I felt my phone vibrate again and I instantly rolled my eyes, expecting it to be Travis again, but instead, it was from Brendon.

I opened it.

I won’t be home for another hour. :(

I could imagine his facial expression in my head perfectly as I opened a blank message and wrote back to him, stating that I wished the hour would go by sooner.

And I truly did. I was beyond bored after being home alone all day and unfortunately, my internal clock only allowed one three-hour nap per day.

Television got old fast, so I turned the channel to a satellite music station and turned it all the way up.

When I get bored, I clean. And when I have something on my mind, I clean more fervently. It was a habit I’d picked up from my mother; I had trained myself to believe. Mostly because I didn’t want to think of myself as a compulsive cleaner this early in my life. I don’t think I could handle that. So, after only an forty-seven minutes, I had managed to straight up, vacuum, and dust the entire downstairs area.

I sat on the countertop and scanned he area, making sure I hadn’t missed anything.

I had folded the blankets and laid them over the back of the couch. All of the throw pillows were in their designated spots on the furniture. And, of course, every coffee table, end table, shelf, or any other surface was dusted so that it gave off a orange sheen in the early evening sun.

The kitchen was straightened up too. I’d done all the dishes, ran and unloaded the dishwasher twice, wiped off all the countertops as well as the stovetop, and even threw out rotten food from the refrigerator and taken out the trash.

I actually felt like somewhat of an iron woman.

I put those flowers in a vase and sat them on the counter, but pretended they weren’t even there.

As I continued to observe, I saw the screen on m phone light up as it buzzed across the wooden surface of the coffee table. Brendon’s name flashed across the screen as it rang.

“Hello?” I tried not to sound as eager to answer the call as I actually was. I was bored, but I certainly wasn’t desperate yet.

Or at least, I think that was my post-boredom making my stomach roll…

“Heya Sundance,” Brendon sounded chipper and just the sound of his intoxicatingly upbeat voice was enough to make my troubles melt away a little. Then, I heard the song that was playing in the background and I frantically turned it down. But not before Brendon chuckled a little into the phone.

It was Bad Company's Feel Like Makin' Love. Blasting at full volume.

The sound of his laugh made the ache in my tummy sharper.

“Feel like makin’ love, Sonny?” I could see his grin in my head.

“A gentleman wouldn’t ask and a lady wouldn’t tell.” I said with whatever dignity I had left. “And to what do I owe the honor of this phone call?”

Brendon got a hold of himself. “Are you busy, madam?” he put on an aristocrat air.

“Uh…” I looked around and decided to myself a passing grade on the cleaning job I’d just done. “Not anymore.”

“Well, good because I had an idea--…” just as Brendon spoke, the doorbell rang. I looked at it curiously.

“And what did you have in mind, Bren?” I opened the door and then, to my surprise, I wasn’t only listening to Brendon speak through my phone, I was talking to him face-to-face.

“I was thinking we’d dine in tonight!” he held up two white plastic bags and smiled widely. “I was going to take you out, but I decided that this would be more fun.”

I grinned at him before taking one of the bags and looking in it. I raised my eyebrows. “This is Chinese takeout, Bren.”

“Exactly! All the wonders of eating out but without the frustration of the public eating place.” He was grinning wildly. Clearly, he had put some thought behind this.

I stepped aside and allowed him to come inside. He thanked me before taking the bag back and looking around the house. It didn’t take long for his jaw to lower ever so slightly.

I mean, I had the same response when I realized that I would be living here.

“You live here?” he asks.

What’d I tell you?”

“No,” I answer sarcastically. “I’m just a tenant here. I’m actually a stripper and I was staying with my pimp until he kicked me out.”

“Ha, ha.” Brendon laughed just as mockingly back at me. I took the bags from him and walked into the kitchen. I heard him follow slowly, still gazing around.

I sat the white Styrofoam boxes on the counter and then got out some knives and forks. Brendon sat himself down on the barstools and flicked one of the daisies that sat in the vase. I watched him out of the corner of my eye and tried not to say anything or think anything too obvious.

“Were the flowers too much?” he asks.

I looked at him so instantly that he flinched. “What?”

He pointed to them. “The flowers?” he says again. “Too much?”

“They’re from you?” He nodded, making a ‘mhm’ sound. “You sent them?” he just grinned at me. “Oh my God, Brendon.”

“Shit, I knew it. I knew they were too much. But I just saw them and I thought you would like them and they sort of reminded me of you in a weird convoluted way and…and…oh goddammit--…”

I cut him off before he berated himself any further. “No, no, Brendon, I love them.” And I suddenly did. “It’s just that…I thought they were from, erm, someone else.”

He lifted an eyebrow at me. “Who?”

I waved it off. “No one, it’s nothing. Want something to drink?”

><><><><

“Oh my God,” I sighed.

“How was yours?” Brendon said in the same satisfied tone.

“I can’t even begin how great that was,” I looked at him and he was grinning, his brown eyes twinkling.

“I could probably do this with you everyday for the rest of my life.” He stretched his arms over his head and sighed again, deeper this time. It was almost a visceral sound.

I had to fight a blush that I could feel rising up from my neck.

“You know, if anyone overheard this conversation without knowing what we were actually talking about, they might get the wrong idea.”

Brendon looked at me again, looking about to laugh. “And what might this wrong idea be?”

I swallowed, not wanting to say it, but I knew that he just wanted to hear me say it out loud. “That we felt like makin’ love.”

Just like I knew he would, he started laughing. So hard, in fact, that he leaned back in his chair a little too far and ended up toppling backward and landing on the floor. Hard.

I was out of my chair and by his side before he hit the floor. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“That wouldn’t be that wrong of an idea.”

That answer was not one that I expected. “What?”

“What you said would be believed if anyone overheard us? That wouldn’t be that wrong of an idea.” He smirked at me.

I rolled my eyes and shoved him, sliding him off of the chair and onto the hardwood floor. He groaned, but laughed too.

“You’re so immature.” I say, looking at him. He gathered himself up off of the floor and straightened the chair back on it four legs.

“Hey,” he defended. “You’re the one that thought of that in the first place.”

“Well, I’ve been home all day with only my thoughts so excuse me!”

Brendon made a face at the ceiling and then back at me. “How is that even an excuse?”

I shoved him again and he just laughed.

“What’d you do today?”

Brendon shrugged. “Just hung out with my friends, Ryan and Spencer.” I nodded, wanting him to continue. “We just spent time at Spencer’s house.”

“I asked what you did today, not who you were with or where you were.”

“I know,” Brendon says. “It’s just…I don’t know, that’s all we did. Just stayed at Spence’s.”

I was about to ask him if that was really all he had done for the entire day when my phone vibrated and interrupted us. I had to step over Brendon, carefully so that I wouldn’t hit him clumsily and on accident, and to get my phone off of the arm of the couch.

Travis had sent me another text message.

If you don’t go to Harley’s, I’m not going. It won’t be worth it. ;)

My stomach flopped in all sort of wrong ways. I quickly wrote him a message in return.

I will have an answer for you tomorrow at school. :)

I added the smiley on a whim, not wanting to sound persnickety, before sending the message and putting the phone back on the couch. I turned to walk back to the kitchen area, but jumped when I met Brendon right behind me.

“Who was that, if you don’t mind me asking?” he added the last part on a whim just as I had with that emoticon.

“Uh, Travis.” I say, glancing sideways and away from Brendon’s prying gaze. “Travis Jones from school.”

Brendon looked at me and I noticed immediately how the life had drained from his face. He looked…sick or maybe even defeated. “You’re friends with Travis Jones?”

This time, I shrugged at him. “I guess so.”

Brendon walked around me and leaned against the back of the couch, staring at his feet as he toed the tassels that frayed from the edge of the rug that sat under the dining room table.

“I suppose he invited you to Harley’s party on Friday.” Brendon guessed and his voice had suddenly lost its fervor, too.

“Yeah, he did.” I looked at Brendon, trying to make sense of the sudden loss of enthusiasm. It was just…so not Brendon. Then, something clicked. “Wait, were you not--…”

“No, I was invited.” Brendon cut me off, only turning his head toward me slightly on not meeting me directly in the eyes.

“Brendon, is something wrong?”

He took a deep breath as I asked him this and looked around at everything but me. I couldn’t put a finger on what exactly was bothering him, but the longer it took him to answer my question, the sooner I realized that it was because I had associated with Travis, despite the fact that I had no incentive as to why that was a bad thing at all.

Then, I heard the garage car door creak and begin to rise and I knew my mom would be walking in through the garage door any second. “Brendon, you’ve gotta go.”

“I agree.” Brendon says, heading toward the front door.

“Wait, Bren,” he turned and, at last, looked me in the eyes. But at that moment, I wish he hadn’t. He looked overwhelmed and I had an indistinguishable guilt in the pit of my stomach that screamed it was my doing. “Will we talk later tonight? I bought Gummy Bears.”

There was a slight smile there and I knew that he was trying to be happy. For me.

“Of course, Sundance.” And with one last half-hearted look of full-heartedness, he was out the door and walking across the lawn to his house.

Then, the garage door opened and I heard my mom laughing and talking to someone. I turned and walked back into the kitchen area, trying to be quiet as I thought she was on her cell phone.

But then, I heard another voice accompany hers. It was a man’s. And it was deep, but smooth, and it made me want to rip my hair out.

I turned from the trashcan after throwing away my and Brendon’s Chinese food boxes and looked at who had come home with my mom. He was smiling at her, but he didn’t know I caught his eyes trail down her backside.

“Oh, hey Slim,” my mom says, smiling at me. “I didn’t know you’d be home.”

“You took the car. Again.” I reply, sounding fairly venomous.

“Shit,” my mom says and then, looking at the man, they both started laughing. “Oh, sweetie, we really should just get you a car already.”

“Yeah,” I could give two shits less about a car when an unwanted stranger was standing in my house. “Who are you?”

My mom put her hand on his shoulder and I had to bite back a gag. “Sonny, this is Thomas.”

Let’s get ready to rumble.