Charmed Life

“What’s all this?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen. There are about twenty plates of food on the table in the adjoining dining room. Granted, most of the “food” looks less than edible, but it’s all there.

James, who is facing the stove, turns at the sound of my voice.

“Oh, morning,” he says, looking embarrassed. “I thought I’d try and make you breakfast. You know, for your birthday?”

“Wow,” I reply, touched. “Thanks. But I think there’s more than enough burnt toast.”

“Yeah, well, I only said I’d try.”

I smile, and take the spatula that he’s holding from his hands. In the pan in front of him is a brownish mush that I assume was once eggs.

“Here, let me.” James steps aside, attentive, as I dump the old eggs and crack a few new ones. Fifteen minutes later, we are eating non-burnt toast and eggs.

“I’m sorry about coming in so late last night,” I say as I down the last of my juice. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He shakes his head. “No, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. Which reminds me, all this time, and I don’t have your phone number.”

I shrug. “I don’t have a phone.”

“You don’t have a phone?” He asks, frowning.

“Don’t need one.”

“But I thought you teenagers were obsessed with stuff like that?”

I roll my eyes. “Says the guy who’s a year older than me. Now don’t you have a practice to go to or something?”

“Try four.” He gets up, clearing his plate and mine. “What are you doing tonight?”

I freeze. That was unexpected.

“Uh… I’m actually going to a dinner… thing,” I stammer. Why is it so weird with him sometimes? I am nervous all of a sudden.

He turns from the sink, where he has placed the dirty dishes. “Dinner thing?”

“Yeah, like a, um, date?” Noah had e-mailed me this morning, asking to take me to dinner, and I’d agreed.

“Oh. Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah...”

There is a beat of silence in which I am panicking and contemplate filling with a fake cough, but the oven thwarts my plan with a loud DING!

“Fuck!” James exclaims, yanking the oven door open.

“What is it?” I ask, grateful for the distraction even though it looks like the oven is on fire from what I can see.

James is sullen. “I forgot about the cinnamon rolls.”

……

Staring at my reflection in the mirror that hangs on my bedroom door, I am this close to canceling my date with Noah. I take my white blouse off and throw it onto the bed in frustration. I’m in my bra and black skirt, and I don’t know what to do.

It’s a first world problem, but I have nothing to wear, and Noah will be here in an hour.

Most of my clothes are either black or white, but I’m not really feeling the waiter look tonight.

Sighing, I continue to stare at my half naked self. Suddenly, my reflection disappears as the door swings open to reveal James on the other side.

“Hey!” I exclaim, turning away quickly and throwing my arms over my naked torso. “Knock much?!”

“Sorry!” James calls through the door, which is now ajar. “Just wanted to give you something.”

“Oh,” I call through the half opened door. Then an idea hits me. “Can you actually help me?”

“What’s up?” He calls back.

I take a deep breath. I can’t keep being nervous around James. He is my housemate, nothing more and nothing less. I realize then and there that I need to start treating him more like a friend and less like a high school crush who makes me blush every time he’s within ten feet of me.

How can I possibly live with him if that’s the case?

I’d die of embarrassment.

“Can you come in here for a sec?” I let my hands fall to my sides as James steps cautiously inside my room. He takes one look at me and hesitates, but doesn’t give anything away.

“What’s going on?” He asks, ignoring my half nakedness and gesturing to the clothes scattered on my bed.

Nice, I congratulate him silently, while admiring the dark jeans and blue button up that he’s wearing.

“I don’t know what to wear,” I tell him. This is something I’d ask Hayden for help with, and since he isn’t here, James will have to do. “I was thinking this skirt, and this top?” I pick up a bright blue, sequined tank and hold it up against myself.

He glances at me, and then walks over to the bed.

“Wear this,” he says, holding up a simple, black cap sleeved and fitted dress that I wore to graduation.

“But it’s so simple,” I frown, putting the blue top down. James looks away.

“Guys are simple,” he says matter of factly. “Unless you’re supposed to look like a disco ball tonight, then wear this.” He holds the dress up again, and I narrow my eyes at him for the snarky comment, but take the dress.

“Fine,” I acquiesce. “Thanks.” I usher him out of the room, promising to go downstairs for whatever it is he has for me.

Ten minutes later, after some blush and mascara, I find James in the living room, sitting on the loveseat and drinking a beer, the evening news on the television.

His eyes widen. I don’t think I’ve worn this much make-up since I’ve met him, and his reaction makes me think I’ve gone overboard.

“What did I say? This is much better that than looking like a disco ball.”

I don’t feel so self-conscious anymore, and roll my eyes at him.

“Gee, thanks. If hockey falls through, you’ll do fine in retail.”

He chuckles, and gets up from his seat. “Sit, I’ll be right back.” I do, and watch as he leaves, and then comes back, a small box in his hands.

“For me?”

“No, for me, but I want you to open it.”

I give him a look, but smile and take the small box, wrapped in gold paper.

My eyes widen at the gift. “What is this?”

“It’s a phone.”

“Thanks, genius,” I deadpan. I know I’m being a brat, but I can’t accept something like this. “I don’t need a phone. Especially not an iPhone. It’s unnecessary.”

“This way we won’t have problems like we did last night.”

I understand that part, but I could get my own phone if I had to absolutely have one. Not an iPhone, maybe, but a functioning one. I start to argue. “But I don’t --”

“I know you don’t need one,” he says, exasperated. “But just use it, okay? We can let each other know stuff. I mean, if I didn’t show up for a few days, I’d like to think you’d worry and maybe give me a call. Right?”

I smile, because he has a point.

“Yes, you’re right,” I agree. “Thank you. Really.”

“Actually, if I’m gone that long, you might want to call the police,” he mutters. “File a missing persons reports or something.”

I laugh, as James takes the white box and starts to unpack it.

“Seriously,” he says somberly. “You never know. I’d check the Capitals first. Ovcheckin, especially.”

He proceeds to show me how to use the phone, but I just sneak glances at him. This man, who worried enough about me to go out and get me a phone so that he’d know I was safe.

“When are you getting in tonight?” he looks up suddenly, and I am caught staring. I look away, down at the phone.

“I’m not sure,” I admit. I know Noah is taking me to dinner, but after that, I have no idea.

“Well, I have a friend coming over. Just don’t want you to be surprised or anything.”

“Okay, thanks.”

A friend? What kind of a friend? A buddy? One of the guys from the team?

Wait.

Why do I care?

I don’t.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, and I collect my things, along with my new phone, and get up. James does the same, and walks with me to the kitchen.

“Have a good time.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, still running through who his “friend” could be. I stop, because if I am going to treat James like a friend, then I have to treat him like Hayden, and if Hayden was here and I was leaving, then I’d do what I am about to do now.

“You, too!” I chirp brightly. And then I step close to James, stand on tiptoes in my flats, and give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Then I hightail it out of there, not waiting around to see his reaction.

…..

Noah takes us to a Hibachi restaurant, and things are going well. We’re talking and laughing, and I’ve only spilled food once. I’m learning a lot about him, and so far, I like everything I’m learning.

My new phone buzzes, and I know who it is, since he’s the only one with this number right now. I ignore it, and continue to listen to Noah tell me about his family.

Noah excuses himself, and I’m left alone at the table. The chef has just finished his show, and my plate is full of friend rice and sautéed vegetables and steak.

I slip the phone out of my purse and my heart beats as his name appears on the screen.

HOW’S YOUR DINNER THING?

I roll my eyes at him mocking my terminology.

OMG THIS PHONE HAS TEXTING? I type, and hit SEND. I smile, because I can practically see him rolling his eyes at that.

My phone buzzes and I read his response: HA. HA.

I smile to myself; I can practically hear the sarcasm.

Noah returns and I put the phone back in my purse.

After dinner, we go to a bar Noah swears play great music, and we continue to talk.

I like Noah, and things are going great, but I’m distracted.

I wonder what James is doing right now? And I really want to know who his friend is. He knows Noah; it’s only fair I know who his date is.

Around midnight, Noah drives me home and walks me to the front door.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling sweetly up at him. He looks dashing in jeans and a black leather jacket. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and he seemed to have the same problem with me. “I had a wonderful time.”

He smiles shyly, stepping closer and looking down at me. “Me, too, Alayna. I really, really like you.”

I’m suddenly shy and nervous and apprehensive. I know what’s coming next, and it’s the part I’m dreading. Not because I don’t want it to happen, but because it’s new and unknown.

“I like you, too.”

And then he leans down and it happens. His lips are warm and sweet. It’s quick, but he lingers, and then pulls away. I smile, and after bidding him goodnight, I step happily inside.

I open up the hall closet and my good mood vanishes.

There is a tan, checked trench coat hanging in the closet. On my favorite wooden hanger. I remove it angrily to a metal hanger and put my coat on the wooden one.

I don’t know why I’m so angry at a trench coat. It’s just a coat. But it’s also a women’s coat.

I glance at the tag.

It’s a small. And it’s Burberry.

Ugh.

James’ “friend” is still here.

Shit. Maybe I should sneak back outside so James will think that I haven’t gotten in yet and worry.

And go where, genius? My common sense taunts. Run after Noah? Hide in the garage?

What is wrong with me? Hayden. Think of Hayden.

And then an idea hits me. I smile and march purposely to the living room, where the sound of laughter and clinking glasses can be heard.

James is on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand and an arm around a very pretty blonde. They don’t notice me, and I take a second to study her.

She’s tiny. A guy’s girl. She has really, really, nice boobs. I hate her already. I might be skinny, but that means I have the smallest boobs in the world. I am a B at best. This girl’s not only skinny, but she also has a nice rack.

Life is so unfair.

I take a deep breath.

“Hey, honey!” I chime loudly. “I’m home!” I slam my purse on the dining table, and both of them whirl around to stare at me.

James is bewildered as the blonde frowns.

James is not amused, and setting his glass down, comes over to me as the blonde follows, still frowning prettily.

How does someone frown and still look pretty? I just look like an angry wrestler.

“Kate,” James says evenly. “Meet my roommate, Alayna.”

I smile sweetly. “Hi, Kate. So nice to meet you!”

Kate smiles, relieved.

Dammit, she’s a good sport. I look like an ass. And she’s got super nice boobs! Seriously, they are perfect. I glance self-consciously at my own B cups.

“Hi, Alayna,” she beams, and I force my eyes upwards. “James told me all about you and your, um, situation.”

Situation?

I give James a pointed look, but don’t say anything.

James clears his throat. “Can you excuse us for sec?”

Kate nods and returns to the couch as James takes me by the elbow and steers me towards the foyer and stairs.

“What the fuck was that?” He hisses at me.

“I was just letting you know that I’m home,” I shrug innocently. “So you don’t worry.”

“Uh huh,” he says. And then he smirks. “She’s pretty, right?”

What? Why is he asking me? I shrug again. “She’s alright.”

“Liar!” he accuses. “I saw you checking her out.”

“I was not!” I defend myself.

“Yeah you were,” he pushes, and holds his hands up to his chest, grabbing imaginary breasts. “She’s got a nice pair, right?”

My jaw drops, and I gasp indignantly. “You can’t objectify her like that!”

He makes a psh sound, waving his hands at me. “You’re just jealous you don’t have boobs like that.”

So he did notice my half nakedness earlier. “I am not jealous!”

He just shrugs. “Whatever. Isn’t it your bedtime or something?”

I narrow my eyes at him. He’s right, of course, I am jealous.

“Get back to your date, I’m going to bed.”

“Fine,” he replies calmly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” I hiss loudly, and turning on my heels, head up the stairs.

The high I was on from my date with Noah is gone, and instead, my mood is sour.

All because of stupid James Neal.