Status: Don't expect a resolution; it's not going to happen.
Cheat
IF IT BRINGS ME TO MY KNEES
We’re eating brunch at a little restaurant downtown, seated at a table on the patio in the warm late morning sunlight. The grilled grapefruit on my plate is staring up at me like a sour pink face, surrounded by little fingerling pancake leaves and sausage rosebuds. Reed toys with his skillet, pushing the hash browns around the eggs and vegetables with his fork before looking up at me and smiling.
“Sam and them asked me to move in with them,” he says excitedly, trying to suppress his emotions but failing rather miserably.
“Really? When did that happen?” I ask before taking a scoop out of my grapefruit. I force a smile on my face to affirm his enthusiasm.
“They called me this morning, right before I met you here,” he explains, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders at my reaction. “They need a sub-leaser and apparently I fit the bill of what they’re looking for.”
“Which is?”
“An all around awesome guy?” he says with a scoff, like he’s offended I didn’t already assume that answer. I laugh lightly, poking him with my foot underneath the table.
“What do you think?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows. He’s wearing a blue-and-purple-and-grey flannel, the sleeves rolled up around his elbows, and they look funny as he puts pressure on them.
“I think if it’s what you want to do, you should do it,” I reply, continuing to smile. This pit forms in my stomach and I can’t tell if it’s warning or jealousy.
“Sam and them asked me to move in with them,” he says excitedly, trying to suppress his emotions but failing rather miserably.
“Really? When did that happen?” I ask before taking a scoop out of my grapefruit. I force a smile on my face to affirm his enthusiasm.
“They called me this morning, right before I met you here,” he explains, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders at my reaction. “They need a sub-leaser and apparently I fit the bill of what they’re looking for.”
“Which is?”
“An all around awesome guy?” he says with a scoff, like he’s offended I didn’t already assume that answer. I laugh lightly, poking him with my foot underneath the table.
“What do you think?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows. He’s wearing a blue-and-purple-and-grey flannel, the sleeves rolled up around his elbows, and they look funny as he puts pressure on them.
“I think if it’s what you want to do, you should do it,” I reply, continuing to smile. This pit forms in my stomach and I can’t tell if it’s warning or jealousy.