That Magical Summer

“Watch out!” you yelled as you headed towards an oncoming driver. You gripped onto the seat for dear life, as you ventured on the narrow road with someone you’ve only met a few hours ago.

“Calm down!” he chuckled continuing to swerve like a maniac. He was having a thrill, but you? Not so much. “Okay okay. No need to worry anymore. We’re here.” You approached the parking lot to a small supermarket. There were only about five other cars, so he easily reversed into the first space. You got of the car at the same time as he did, and walked in together. “I need some paint,” he announced, taking the lead and walking to your right. You rolled your eyes, but obeyed by following him. “Which one do you like the best?” he asked pointing to the array of colors.

“Why does it matter?” you asked looking everywhere but at him.

“Because I’m repainting the house you’re staying in,” he replied.

“Oh no you’re not. Who gave you permission to?” you shot back.

“Um. Uncle Pat,” he said.

“Well I refuse,” you said crossing your arms firmly in front of you. He shrugged, throwing a canister of a random color into the cart. You rolled your eyes again, and took the cart. You pushed it down the rest of the aisle then turned left. You grabbed a pack of bananas as you passed by it, a jug of milk, and some hot chocolate. You stopped in the baked goods section to get some fresh croissants for breakfast tomorrow. Speeding the cart to the dairy, you picked up butter and cheese. “Done,” you said aloud. You turned back to see that Niall wasn’t right by your side. You groaned when you saw him a few aisles down distracted by something. You pushed the cart over to him.

“These look good,” he mumbled to himself, “Or what about these?”

“How about these?” you said annoyed and ignoring him, slapping down a third pack of nails.

“Perfect,” he grinned at you as the first time you made eye contact with him today. You noticed something, in that moment. That he had a slight glimmer in his eye. It was a sparkling tone that made you shiver, in envy. You looked away quickly.

“What do you need the nails for anyways?” you asked biting your lower lip.

“Need to rehang some stuff up,” he said taking the cart and heading to the checkout lines. He paid for everything, and insisted on carrying all of it to the car himself too.

“Niall. Geez. Stop being so stubborn and just let me carry something,” you called behind him.

“No. I got it,” he said huffing to carry the butload of stuff you two had just bought. Then, before he could catch it, he dropped three of the grocery bags to the ground.

“Nice going hot shot,” you mumbled picking up the three bags and walking to the car, leaving him behind you. The car ride back was silent for the most part. He tried making conversation, but you shut him out immediately. You just wanted to get home, snuggle up in your cozy bed, read your book, and drink steaming hot chocolate.

“Well there you go,” he said stopping the engine right outside your house.

“Thanks,” you muttered grabbing your bags.

“Wait. I’ll see you later then?” he asked looking up at you.

“Erm. Yeah. Sure,” you said grabbing your stuff and slamming the door. You didn’t want anything to do with him. You wanted him to just do what he needed to do, and then leave you alone here. You didn’t want to get involved.

            Scurrying from the pantry to the fridge you managed to get all your groceries put away in record time. The sun was starting to set right above the horizon. You decided to do what you’ve been waiting to do the whole day for. So you boiled some water, adding the contents of the hot chocolate packet into it. You stirred it around with a silver spoon, blowing on it lightly. You took a daring sip, only to scorch back in pain. “Damn,” you muttered sticking your tongue out. You tasted the scratchy tongue against the roof of your mouth, your face souring at the feeling. Minutes later, you still found yourself on the porch. You sat smothered in a brown fleece throw, as you huddled against your warm mug. Even though it was barely the beginning of August, there was still a slight breeze. And plus, you get cold easily. The wind picked up momentarily, as you clung onto the edges of the blanket. You held your cup close to you, taking sips after making 100% sure that it was completely cooled. You watched the brilliant sun disappear. The sky was painted vivid shades of fire, as the ocean darkened along with it. It was a mystical sight, magical.

*Early the next morning*

            “Rise and shine!” you made out from behind your closed door. Your eyes opened groggily, blinking to comprehend the early morning. You looked up, and at first saw ceiling. You realized that you were on the couch. Last night, you must’ve fell asleep on the couch while you finally got to start your book. What time is it? Is the first question that pops into your head every morning. You rolled onto your stomach, to check the wall clock. 6:24. AM. You froze mid-yawn remembering the voice at your door. You took all your energy to pull yourself up, before reevaluating yourself. You felt the mess of hair atop your head, groaning. You stomped heavily to the front door, trying it open with two fingers. “Good morningggg!” you heard the boy sing from outside. Your squinted eyes, made out Niall’s excited face, holding a canister and two paintbrushes. The smile on his face, made you want to gag. But you held it in, for everyone’s sake.

“Hi?” you said glumly.

“Okay we have lots to do today,” he said ignoring your lame greeting and making his way into your house. You let him pass you, but barely. He brushed against you as he made his way to the middle of the room. He set down his supplies, and put his hands on his hips.

“What do you mean we?” you asked walking over to him.

“We. Me and you. We’re gonna paint,” he said happily.

“Paint…?” you trailed letting him finish for you.

“Your house!” he said picking up one of the paintbrushes.

“Right now?” you complained, still not fully awake.

“Well there’s no better time than in the morning. We have a lot planned for today, and we better get an early start right?” he asked letting his arm drop to his side.

“Wrong. 8:30 would be an early start. Not 6:32,” you said giving him the same irritated face.

“Come on debby downer. Let’s just get this over with,” he said handing you the other paintbrush. You ignored his outstretched hand, and walked over to an empty wall.

“What’s wrong with the paint I already have?” you asked pressing your cheek against the wall, and using the palm of your hand to scope out the chipping paint.

“Well for one. It’s been here for almost 15 years. Look how the paint is starting to flake, that’s never a good sign. It’s even starting to discolor over here. For all we know there could be a whole generation of bugs infested in these things-“ he rambled.

“Okay okay. Could you just give me some time. To I don’t know. Wake up?” you asked cutting him off from his annoying banter and walking into your bedroom.

“Oh yeah sure. Take your time. I’ll be right here,” he said. You quickly went through your drawers, looking for something to wear. You pulled out the first two things you found, a pair of purple yoga shorts and just a plain white v-neck. You put them both on, and grabbed your brush. You tamed your hair into a sleek ponytail, leaving it to fall behind your head. You washed your face, and brushed your teeth before walking into the living room. Niall was sitting on your couch with his hands on his knees. He stood up as soon as he saw you. “Ready?” he asked smiling his wide smile.

“I guess,” you mumbled. Who does he think he is just barging in here and demanding that we paint my walls? God. This boy has issues. You watched as he struggled to pull the top of the paint off. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. He heard you and looked up frowning.

“Do you wanna try?” he asked out of breath. You shrugged past him, as you easily slid off the lid with one motion.

“That’s how you do it,” you said turning your back to him.

“Well. This is um interesting…” Niall said suddenly. You spun around to see what he was talking about. He was looking down towards his feet, at the paint. You looked in the silver canister to see the ugliest color this earth has ever seen. It was a mix between a pumpkin orange, and a coffee brown. It made you want to gag, almost as much as Niall made you. You made a repulsive noise before looking away.

“Nope. Not happening. You have an absolutely horrible horrible horrible taste in color,” you said sticking your hand out ordering him to stop.

“This is your fault you know,” he shot.

“How the hell is this my fault?!” you exclaimed, your voice rising.

“You’re the one who didn’t want to pick a damn paint colour back at the supermarket so you forced me to just pick a random one!” he shouted.

“Well you could’ve at least looked at what you were picking!” you yelled at him trying to contain your volume. But then, you thought you saw him sigh, and drop his shoulders in defeat.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Well I’m not going back to the market,” you said sitting on the couch stubornly.

“Then it’s just gonna have to do,” he replied.