Sepia Film Reels

Back at home, Tom was careful to make little noise as he entered his New Jersey home. The bus ride had been fine; he had watched the little boats as they crossed over the bridge. He had laughed to himself, finding it extremely amusing that humans weren’t happy just controlling the earth, they had to own the sea and sky too.

He flicked his hard, anime inspired hair. He tried to silence his racing thoughts as the latch clicked back in to place behind him. The walls of the tiny hallway were decorated in canvases he had painted himself. He pushed the kitchen door open gently. Rena was sat in front of the computer in a thick sweater with a hot water bottle. She instructed a customer over the heavy headset. Probably another idiot with a broken boiler, ringing the gas company in panic as a snowy blanket wrapped New England. His Mom waved her arm from the desk, motioning him to be silent. He smiled to himself as he got himself a glass of water.

“A bunch of morons I swear!” Rena wailed arms in the air, “Single celled morons, who deserve to be hoarded and sold for cheap labor. I mean, how do so many boilers get broken?!”

She ripped the headset off her head and slung it at the computer, a little too forcefully perhaps.

“Hey Mom,” he smiled, kissing the short woman on her forehead.

“What did I do to deserve this life? Karma is such a slut!” Rena wailed.

Tom hugged his Mom tighter, “you didn’t do anything, you have a great life, now go set up the Wii while I make us some green tea.”

She obediently shuffled into the next room. He hugged himself and shivered slightly, willing himself not to think about her. He had thoroughly enjoyed meeting up with her, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the empty space he was left with after they parted ways. A smile had lingered on his lips, but he felt as though she had taken a part of him with her for safe keeping.

He smiled as he remembered the way her face dimpled as she laughed. His hands made the tea on auto pilot while his brain replayed the video tape of the evening in his mind’s eye. As the kettle boiled, Tom shook his head sharply. It wasn’t right to think of a friend like this. If he had met up with the band for practice, he wouldn’t be replaying the rehearsal through his head. If he had caught up with a friend from college, he wouldn’t be replaying it and smiling at features of their personality.

This all led to the burning question: were they just friends? Tom knew full well that she was freshly out of a serious relationship, so on that alone they were only going to be just friends for the time being. But there was something there. It was a connection he wasn’t quite sure he had felt before. It was the kind of connection you could almost reach out and touch. It was glowing brightly and it was thick in the air. He balled his fists angrily and thumped them down on the counter. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and he was never good with this kind of stuff. It was best he just pushed all these thoughts to the back of his mind.

He poured the water from the kettle and watched the steam rise to the ceilings. He watched the water in the mugs slowly turn a yellowish green. Watching tea diffuse reminded him of how feelings worked. You start off with one defined emotion, and then suddenly, a new emotion shrouds it. Or thoughts, it could be compared to thoughts. He was going to cover his thoughts of her, with a new emotion. He chucked the teabags into the waste disposal and walked into the living room. His Mom was balancing in a yoga position on the Wii Fit.

His cell vibrated in his pocket. He pulled out the shiny gizmo and stared impassively at the display.

New message it read.

He clicked the open button. It was from her.

I enjoyed myself tonight. Check your email, there’s a picture attached.

There goes any thoughts of forgetting about her, he said to himself. He tried not to think too much about what sort of picture she would be sending and tried to focus more on getting the teas onto the low coffee table without spilling them. Tom had never been one of the boys fascinated with skimpy underwear and slutty heels. At the end of the day though, he was a man, he was going to picture these things. Oh how well her auburn hair would match silk red... Just friends!

“Hey Mom, I need to pee real quickly, then I need to change my clothes, I might be a while...”

He inched out of the room trying to be as subtle as possible. He kept the tray over his crotch and tried not to worsen the growing bulge in his jeans.

Up in his room, his phone vibrated again.

How do you say tomato in Japanese, btw?

He grinned to himself, smiling at her odd questions. He debated on whether to reply now, or in a few minutes. He chose the latter and slipped a hand under the waistband of his Levis.