Perfect Symmetry

Sunday passed more leisurely than I’m used to. Jon left after about half an hour of sipping coffee and teasing me about my apartment. We exchanged phone numbers, and then he admitted that he really wanted to shower and had better go home. He gave me another heart-racing hug and then hurried out with another wave. I was left frozen, unsure of what had just happened.

Shit. Had I “friend- zoned” him? The guy made me shiver and my blood rush and he just wants to be friends? Great. That’s just fucking great. I doubt he was even attracted to me at all.

I moped about this for a good half an hour before returning to bed with my laptop to finish the episode of Downton that I had started before breakfast. The morning slipped away quietly, and when I emerged from my bedroom, the sun was high. I was just going to make some macaroni for lunch when the phone rang.

“Hello?” I uttered as I place the receiver at my ear.

“Is that Jazz?” a male voice asked. It wasn’t Jon, and I couldn’t tell who this was.

“Um. Yes. Who is this?” I asked warily, ready to hang up.

I heard a laugh at the other end, and lots of wind. Maybe he was in a car?

“Hi, Jazz. It’s Patrick,” the voice clarified. I could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Hey, Patrick. Are you driving? Or skydiving?” I questioned lightly, walking into the kitchen to get the water boiling.

“I wish it were the second one,” Pat admitted, “but it’s not.”

I suddenly realized something. “You had better not be driving while talking to me.”

I heard him laugh again. He had a great laugh, deep and genuine. “I’m not driving, Christy is.”

I knitted my brow. Do I know him well enough to tease him? “Oh I see. Have you guys been hanging out all weekend?”

I heard him pause for a moment. “Jazz, are you making fun of me? I thought we were friends!”

I snorted. “Friends make fun of each other all the time, Patrick.”

I heard him saying something to Christy on the other side. “Christy wants to know if you’re free for lunch.”

“I am making macaroni and cheese,” I announced proudly as I dumped the pasta in the boiling water.

“Alone?” he asked teasingly.

“Yes,” I replied suspiciously. “Why, did you want some?”

“No, but I thought Jon might have wanted some,” Patrick said nonchalantly.

I blushed like mad. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, sure. Anyway, do you want to come out with us for a bite?” he pressed.

I bit my lip in deliberation and glanced at the unfinished episode on my laptop. I could stay in this apartment like a hermit or I could go out and do something.

“Fine. Pick me up?”
~
When Christy and Patrick picked me up, I was still in my leggings and sweater, but I took the time to slap on some make-up so I wouldn’t have to face that embarrassment again. Although I’m sure I’d face many other types of embarrassment.

“So what do you feel like eating?” Patrick asked kindly as I sat in the back of his convertible.

“Just something light. Sandwiches?” I offered with a shrug.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, “I know a good place.”

We sat in this small café and ordered out respective sandwiches. I went for a BLT, but Christy wanted a veggie one, and Patrick chose a hefty roast beef one.

“So what do you do, Jazz?” Pat asked me just as I took the final, large mouthful of my sandwich.

I gave him an embarrassed look and held up a finger while I chewed and swallowed the bite I had taken.

“I work at an advertising firm,” I answered finally. The build-up to the answer suddenly seemed to fall flat.

“Cool! Like TV ads?” he questioned, looking genuinely excited.

I nodded. “Our firm does handle those, but I’m mostly in the print ads, that go in magazines or newspapers. I just finished one about the dangers of obesity.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” he declared, leaning back in his chair in satisfaction.

“Thanks, I would take a bow but I’m sitting down,” I joked, nibbling at the last bits of bacon.

Christy laughed. “Hey, Patrick could you take me home? It’s been fun driving your car all morning but I have to get home and do some work.”

“Alright. You ready, Jazz?” Patrick’s blue eyes turned to me.

“Yup. Let’s go.”
~
Pat dropped off Christy at her condo and then turned to me. “Where to? Home? My place?” he teased.

“Ha. Home, please!” I shoved his arm playfully.

When I gave him the address a wicked grin spread across his face. “Hey, you know Taser takes his morning runs around that area.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know. I ran into him this morning.”

Patrick laughed whole-heartedly. “That was hardly an accident, Jazzy.”

I blushed. “Whatever.”

There was a moment of silence after that, and I hummed the tune to whatever song was playing on the radio before Patrick spoke up again.

“So we have a game Friday evening. You should come,” he suggested.

I shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t been to a game in ages.”

“Yeah, and Jon would probably like you being there,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I made a frustrated noise and would have hit him; except he was driving and that could have been mad.

“I don’t know why you would say that!” I cried out in exasperation. “He totally friend-zoned me this morning!”

“He said he wanted to be friends with you?” Patrick clarified.

“Yeah! And what was I supposed to say to him? So now we are forever friend-zoned,” I said dramatically. “Besides, I’m sure that guy is trouble anyway.”

“Oh he is,” Patrick reassured me. “But haven’t you seen When Harry Met Sally? Men and women can never be “just friends” you know.”

I turned to look at him in disbelief. “Did you just ask me if I’ve seen When Harry Met Sally? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to ask you?”

Patrick’s cheeks reddened slightly, but he recovered. “Why is that?”

“Because it’s a chick flick!” I exclaimed.

“No it’s not! It’s Billy Crystal, for God’s sake! The guy is awesome!” Patrick argued passionately.

“Ask any girl you know, Pat. They’ll all say it’s a chick flick. But it’s cool that you like it. It’s one of my top 25 favourite movies,” I relented with a smile.

“I’m sure Sleepless in Seattle is on there too. Now [that's a chick flick,” he said definitively.

I laughed. “This is me on the right.” I pointed to my apartment complex.

Patrick pulled over onto the curb and I turned to him. “Thanks for lunch! And the ride.”

“So shall I send the tickets to you? Or shall I come drop them off at your work and get the whole office talking?” he winked devilishly.

“Just send them to me, you twerp,” I rolled my eyes before getting out of the car and returning to my apartment.