Friends, Lovers, or Nothing

Darkness had finally fallen on my little suburb, and most of the residents had gone to the various spots in town to watch the fireworks. Tom and I were currently lying on a hill that was fondly used for sledding in the winter. A warm breeze lazily made its way through and I closed my eyes, feeling it caress my cheeks. The incline of the hill was perfect; I never wanted to move from the spot I was in.

We quietly waited, and my thoughts wandered to earlier in the day. It had been a fantastic day; in fact I would venture to say that it was the most memorable and enjoyable Fourth of July. There were some hiccups that I didn’t want to remember, but the remainder of the day was pure happiness. I had Tom to thank for that. He made me feel so calm and at ease.

Before we left for the fireworks, my grandmother had taken it upon herself to give me love advice. “Fireworks are romantic. Just plant one on him! He’ll love it.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Tom turned his head to look at me. “What?”

“I was just thinking about my grandma and how silly she is,” I said, embarrassed that I had actually laughed out loud. Thankfully he couldn’t see the blush that adorned my face.

“She’s wonderful.” He paused for a moment. “So full of life.”

I nodded in agreement and we fell silent again. My mind wandered back to her horrible advice. There were many reasons why I couldn’t be forward about my feelings for Tom. He was my co-worker, and even though it wasn’t in the exact same sense that other people could use, I still thought it unprofessional to date someone you worked with. He was also eleven years my senior, and I found it hard to believe that he would have any interest in dating someone so much younger than him. There was also the fact that he had never shown any indication of feeling anything more than friendship, and without any proof I wouldn’t trick myself into believing he liked me as more than that.

“Where’s your dad?” Tom broke my trance. He asked the question softly, as if he was afraid of my answer. I stared up at the sky intently, trying to clear my thoughts.

“He lives in Arizona,” I supplied him with as little information as possible.

“You say that with such a tone,” He observed.

I knew that I couldn’t say anything about my dad without getting snippy. “We don’t get along.”

“How old were you when your parents divorced?” He continued.

I didn’t understand why he wanted to know, but I told him anyway. “Four or five? I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“That must’ve been hard,” He said with a consoling element to his voice that I found hypnotizing, even if I didn’t need to be consoled.

“In a way, it was better. I don’t have any memories of my parents together, so how it is now is how it’s always been for me,” I pointed out. I had no desire to continue with this subject. Anything regarding my father made me feel like I was being squeezed in between two walls until there was nothing left.

He rubbed at his chin. “I’ve never thought of it that way before. When my parents divorced, it was very hard on me.”

I looked at him, my eyes wide in interest. This was the first time he had spoken of his past. Even though we were best friends, I only knew him as he was now. I had no idea what made him into the man he was today. He was very tight lipped about it. I didn’t want to pry anything out of him, figuring it would all come out in time, as he trusted me.

“I was older than you were, though. My sister was the same age as you. You two actually have a lot in common. I think you’d get on well.” He continued to entrance me with new information and all of a sudden I was on overload. I felt so close to him with the connections he was making between his life and mine. He was, whether intentionally or not, tying himself to me.

“I’d like to meet her,” I said honestly.

He smiled at me. “I’ll take you to London so you can meet everyone.”

Butterflies flew around my stomach frantically. He wants to take me to London! I could practically hear my grandmother squealing all the way from home. It took everything I had to remind myself that we weren’t together. To me, that’s what it felt like. I wanted nothing more than to know how he felt.

I found myself gazing at his lips. He had that ginger stubble again, like when I first met him. It must’ve been what he could grow in only one days’ time. He was impossibly attractive, and suddenly while I was staring at him his face was lit with purple light. I hadn’t even been able to notice the fireworks going off the distance because of his damn perfection. In my head I saw myself leaning over and forcefully kissing him on the mouth, but instead I turned my head back to the sky, watching the fireworks faithfully.

We didn’t look at each other again for the rest of the night, and I couldn’t help but wonder.. Did he feel that too? That incredible closeness between us. It seemed almost tangible, and it gave me a glimmer of hope. Maybe he knew how I felt, and maybe he felt the same. Maybe he was fighting with himself over it just as I was, and he was afraid too. I held onto that little piece of hope for dear life.

--

“Loki-Tom, don’t go!” Luke threw his arms around Tom and squeezed tight. Tom laughed his wonderful little laugh, hugging him back. Luke had taken to calling Tom “Loki-Tom” ever since he’d been informed that Tom played Loki, and I had no doubt that Tom loved every moment of it.

I watched as Tom said goodbye to each member of my family. It was easy to see that they had all fallen in love with him, too, and he was a part of the family already.

“Alberta, I’m going to work on getting you a copy of The Hollow Crown,” He promised my grandmother, taking her in his embrace. My mom distracted me with her own goodbye, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from Tom and Baba. She whispered something to him and he smiled at her, telling her something in response before they hugged again.

He came back over to me, his bright blue eyes shining slightly. “We should get going.”

I nodded, taking my bags as we made our way out to the door and to the black town car that was waiting for us. We sat in silence on the way to the airport. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the window, committing everything I saw to memory even though none of it had changed much since I moved. I missed Chicago.

When we finally arrived at O’Hare International Airport and settled into the gate, I decided to ask him about his exchange with my grandmother. I was almost too scared to ask, but I had to know what she told him. A smile played at his lips when I mentioned it, and he shook his head. “I can’t tell you!”

I groaned, bringing my hand to my forehead in distress. “Please, tell me?”

“Grace, you can ask me all you want, but I’ll tell you this. It’ll come out in good time.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, unsatisfied. What the hell did that even mean? I folded my arms and huffed loudly to annoy him, and he smirked in enjoyment. He began to play with his phone and I took my iPod out, putting it on shuffle and letting the music fill my ears.

“Here, in the stillness, the quiet place where I’m lying with a downturn face. You come and distract me from what’s coming at me. Oh, give me something to look forward to. Truth be told, sometimes it’s only you. Nothing is at stake here when we are awake here. It’s you who brings the morning and you who takes the sun when I sleep. You’re the only who stuck around for me when I was losing faith in what I thought I would be. You’re the only one in the dark I see.”