"Sharing is caring," he quipped and stole another one.
A small growl left my throat, but this just made him laugh. "I think you've been hanging around me too much," I muttered sulkily, "you're even starting to sound like me."
"Then this," he said, gesturing at his board shorts and t-shirt, then at himself, "is all your fault."
"I'll take credit for that.” I gave a short nod. “You look hot," I blurted and smacked my hand over my mouth, cringing when I realized what I'd just said.
"Really?" the butthole preened, his chest puffing up like a happy dragon’s. "You think I'm hot?"
"No, no, no, no. Nuh-uh. I, uh, I said yo-”
Whatever I was going to say was cut off when Will spotted an S.U.V. pulling into his drive and hopped up, upsetting his plate as he whooped, a grin splitting his handsome face, and ran out my front door, hurrying over to whoever had just pulled up.
My heart kicked up a beat, but not in a nice way. Is he leaving now? Did they come back for him...? But... but... already?
Was it bad I’d been hoping they'd forget about him and just let him rot here...with me? Yes. Yes, it was. It was horrible, and made me cringe yet again.
Moving closer, I watched from my window as a younger man and woman got out of the vehicle, the man opening the door for the woman.
They must be a couple, I thought, and let the breath I'd been holding out.
Will hugged them both, all smiles and excitement, and walked them into his house, shutting the door behind him and effectively forgetting all about me. Hell, I felt like he’d just made a point of shutting me out.
Get used to it, Tabs, I told myself. The truth of it burned. He's going to do it sooner or later, whether you're ready for it or not.
Shoulders slumping, I stood back, letting the curtain fall, trudging back to the kitchen and our deserted dinner. I tried to take my mind off of everything, washing the dishes and putting the leftover food away, busying myself with after dinner chores.
My front door chimed fifteen minutes in and I rushed towards it, hoping he'd remembered me after all.
Wrenching the handle, I opened it wide and tried not to look disappointed when I found Elliot standing on the other side.
"Hey, Elliot.” My gaze shifted towards the house next door of its own accord, but I fixed it firmly on Elliot, correcting my lapse of better judgement real quickly there. “What's up?"
Elliot blinked, momentarily forgetting himself as I stared up at him, and I do mean up, and then his lips quirked up at the corners. "Oh, Mom was just wondering if you were still on for Gerty's baby shower next Friday."
He smiled down at me warmly, and it was just one more reminder of why I liked living here. Elliot had always been a great friend.
"Got my present and everything," I said in answer, smiling back at him.
“Great, I’ll-” Elliot froze, gulping slightly, and sniffed the air. Pushing out a short breath, he inhaled again and his eyes widened, his glasses slipping a little down the bridge of his nose. "Ah- I- Did you make pie, Bit?"
"I did.” My smile widened until it would have given the Cheshire cat a run for its money. “You want some?"
"Really?" he asked eagerly, grinning excitedly.
"Sure. Just give me a sec and I'll make some up for you and your mom. Just give me a minute, okay?"
"Oh... alright," he said quietly, his happiness dimming slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels a little. His tall, lean frame reminded me of a reed swaying in the breeze.
"Do you want to come in and wait while I get it ready?" I asked after a moment, cottoning on.
"I thought you'd never ask!" Rushing inside, he practically mowed me down to get in.
Stepping back in the nick of time, I laughed and hurried to the kitchen before he attacked my pie and started eating it straight out of the pie pan.
"Are you sure you're thirty five, Elliot?” I said on a laugh, a chuckle in my voice. “Your love for pie is almost disconcerting."
"Where are your forks, Bit? I'll eat it with my fingers if you don't get your rump in here!"
Never get in the way of Elliot Schloop and a piece of pie.
****
The next day, I found myself on my front porch swing, one foot tucked beneath me, the other rocking the swing back and forth as I sipped my hot cocoa.
Will came over and stood at the bottom of the steps, clearing his throat awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. If he was waiting for a response of some kind from me, like he wished me to speak first, well, he could just hold his breath—I’d be sure and prop his dead body up on the porch swing as a Halloween prop.
He was wearing his preppy clothes again, I saw, but I pretended not to notice.
"Sorry about yesterday," he said sheepishly.
"No sweat off my back."
"I seem to be doing that a lot with you," he admitted quietly, sitting down on my front step.
"What's that? Ditching me or apologizing?" I asked uninterestedly, taking the oblivious route.
He gave me a crooked smile, his dimples peeking out on one side, and brushed his, now wavy from the length, sandy brown hair out of his eyes.
"It was my brother. The man from yesterday," he said in way of explanation, I'm guessing.
Don’t care. Don’t care. Don’t care. And yet, "Ahh... is he taking you back home?"
"No. He just wanted to see how I was holding up. Moral support," he responded, snorting, making air quotes as he rolled his eyes at the idea.
Sliding my foot forward, I poked at him with my foot. "Don't knock it, fancy britches. I think it's sweet."
"I need a job," he cut in, effectively switching subjects.
Okay, fine. "I don't even know how you've managed it this long without one." My eyes slid towards him slowly and I gave him a once over, eyeing him skeptically.
Will threw his hands up, shaking his head. "I sold off everything valuable I own except my car."
"Well... Tobes might be able to use you if you're willing to get dirty?" I ventured.
"Really?" he asked hopefully, perking up.
Focusing on the contents of my mug, I nodded but shrugged. "Want me to give him a call?"
"Yeah, definitely.” Will nodded gratefully. “I'm desperate and no one else will even consider hiring me."
"Oh, boo-hoo." My lips quirking, I snorted, lifting an eyebrow as I smiled wryly at him. "You haven't exactly been trying to make friends around here, Tin Man."
"And what do you suggest I do, Miss Manners?” he started hotly. “Go over to Mrs. Schloop and apologize? And then tell Mr. Seppel that I don't think he's a pompous old windbag?"
"For starters, yes," I said simply.
Will grunted, his face pinching like I’d just told him to suck a dog turd. "Not gonna happen."
Another unconcerned shrug from me. "Then I hope you find plumbing to your liking."
The idea of him being a plumber had me struggling against a fit of giggles. I could just picture him in his fancy clothes, trying not to get dirty as he unclogged a toilet or replaced a pipe.
"I used to lay a lot of pipe," he drawled lecherously, drawing me from my musings.
"Yeah, I'll just bet you did,” I muttered dryly. “How'd that work out for ya?"
"It went..." he trailed off. He looked at me for a moment then and paused, as if he was debating something.
After another moment for contemplation, possibly, it seemed as if he'd come to a decision. "You know, I think you're the only real friend I've ever had?"
"No, I didn't." I was honestly surprised, but more so that he’d even admit something like that.
"I feel like I can tell you anything and I don't feel bad for just being myself," he explained, leaning back against the railing.
"Good.” I gave him a stern look. “I feel like I can brow beat you and do so freely."
"Smart ass! I'm serious," he chuckled out, laughing.
"I am, too!"
"Anyway... I didn't r
eally do anything wrong, per se, to get stuck here, it was more of a... misunderstanding," he started.
"I'm confused.” My brow crinkled as my face scrunched up. What did that even mean? “Ah... Why don't you start from the top and then work your way down. Hmmm?"
Instantly uncomfortable, Will sighed and wriggled around for a minute. The tell-tale blushing flushing his cheeks was not lost on me. "See… it all started," he began.
Spilling The Beans...
"Stop laughing, short shit, it isn't that funny," he grumbled at me, pushing me aside on the swing to scoot in next to me.
I tried to sober myself up, I really did, and after a few failed attempts I managed it.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Will, it's just..." I said on a giggle, "but you deserved it!"
"I did not! I wasn't even sleeping with her. I had no idea what he was talking about! He pinned me to the wall! He looked like he was going to murder me! You talk about peeing your pants... I really would have if Jinny hadn't made him let me go!"
"It's kinda romantic,” I couldn’t help but point out. “On a crazy people in love kind of way," I said a little wistfully. Peeking at him from my peripherals, I turned and glanced at him, wanting to see his reaction.
His look said he didn't agree.
"And then she punched you in the face," I added gleefully, finishing off this part of the tale.
"You don't have to sound so happy about it," he complained, pouting next to me.
Extending a hand, I leaned on his shoulder and patted his arm. "Oh, don't you worry, my little Willy-nilly, I'm sure you have other exes... You could always hope to crash one of their family get-togethers, plan it out with their mom too and do the same thing all over again!"
"I don't know why I even told you," he griped, gently shoving me away.
At the look on his face I sobered and gave his hand a quick squeeze. "You told me because you needed to tell somebody. Someone you knew wasn't going to judge you for it. I get it. Maybe now you can put it all behind you and move on. Grow from it."
"You think so?” The pout eased a bit, slipping into his grumpy scowl. “Let's recap, shall we? I mean, I tried to get back with my ex from years ago, in a cockamamie scheme to fool my parents into believing the lie I'd made up about us being together for months. Then, I proceeded to try and actually woo the girl, now a strong minded adult who just wanted to forget me and all the bull crap I pulled in high school. Including my callous attempt to save face with my friends, dumping her the night after we'd had sex, when they'd mocked her weight."
Grimacing, he stuck his head in his hands.
"I sound like a complete and utter nutcase when I say it out loud. And a total asshole," he grumbled, groaning into his hands.
"Yes, you do.” I wasn’t going to bull shit him. “Don't forget the part where you got two black eyes for your effort. One from her and one from her man. Oh! And then one of your old pop tarts showed up at your parent's pretending to be your fiancée," I added helpfully, "Effectively outing you as a big fat liar and starting your exile with, wait for it... me!"
Hmm. Maybe I am a leprechaun after all. Don't they like to stir the pot, too?
Going a bit overboard with the dramatics and snark, I threw my hands up and pretended I was throwing confetti around us.
Eyes narrowing to tiny, unamused slits, he glared at me.
"Just trying to make light of the situation," I said sweetly, letting my hands plop to my lap.
"It isn't working," he muttered.
"You'll laugh about it later," I insisted, giggling at him.
"Sometimes I hate you," he mumbled darkly, coughing to cover up his little smile when I winked at him, unfazed by his attitude.
"That's okay, Willy, I'll love you, myself, your smelly feet, and your hairy sasquatch body, enough for the both of us. Ack! Uncle! Uncle! I take it back! I take it back!" I cried out as he pounced, growling as he tried to put me in a head lock.
“Uuuunnnncle!” I shouted on a cackle.
****
"You know?" I said, once he'd calmed back down and I'd hopped up off the swing, putting enough space between us to deem myself safe. "I would have dumped your ass off in the middle of nowhere, too!"
"Bit!" he bellowed, forgetting all about what he was upset about in the first place to chase me.
Hopping off the front porch, across my lawn and straight into his, we were off.
See? I'm the bestest friend ever! He just doesn't know it yet.
And that's how Mr. Benson found us when he stopped by to see if I'd finished my painting for him.
Me, running around, cackling like a hyena, while Will gave chase, bellowing out exactly what he planned to do to me once I stayed still long enough for him to catch me.
Once Mr. Benson realized Will wasn't really going to re-enact a scene from that scary mafia movie, or bury me in the desert, he took his shotgun away from Will's head and had a chuckle about it, too.
Yeah... life is good.
****
"Hello, Bit, how are ya, sweetheart?"
"Great, thanks!" I greeted Mr. Seppel with a sweet smile and a wave as I grabbed a shopping cart.
"How's the Mrs.?"
"Great, great. She really enjoyed herself at that baby shower last week."
"Yeah, it was a lot of fun." Humming a little under my breath, I made my way down the aisles, grabbing what I needed, hoping I’d bought enough to last me for a month.
With Will eating over every other meal, I definitely needed to stock up more food.
"Ruffian," Mr. Seppel growled.
"Bag of wind," Will greeted, equally as hostile, huffing and puffing his way inside.
"Will! Be nice!" Wheeling my cart back around to the front, I found the pair glaring each other down.
"Don't waste your breath, honey, that boy is bad news," Mr. Seppel warned me, pointing a gnarled finger at Will’s scowling face.
I smiled as I wheeled my cart almost right into Will, who moved lest he be run over, and deftly rescued him from Mr. Seppel. Hooking my arm through Will’s as I turned around and strolled by him, I dragged him along with me, headed to the other end of the store.
"Sweet little thing getting all mixed up with him. It's a shame," Mr. Seppel could be heard muttering, loudly wiping down his front counter. "A real shame."
"Why does everyone think you're a little angel and I'm the devil incarnate?" Will groused. His eyes kept shifting back towards the storefront, then narrowing, before coming back to meet mine.
"Mmmm... Oh, I dunno, maybe because you've done nothing to endear yourself to them?"
"I tried," he grumped petulantly.
"You called him a windbag," I reminded on a whisper.
"No. I called him a bag of wind, there's a difference. And anyway, he started it," he leaned down to whisper in my ear. His breath tickled my sensitive skin as it skittered across my cheek, the smell of mint toothpaste invading my senses.
"How the hell is that much better?" I asked dubiously. I tried to stifle a laugh, but he caught it and, with a quick wink, grinned mischievously.
"Hello, William. Fancy seeing you here!" an older woman called, startling us as she approached us, a huge, friendly smile on her face.
"Mrs. Reynolds?" Will blurted out, bug-eyed as his head whipped around and he looked the woman over.
All happy smiles, she came up and hugged him, patting him affectionately on the back before letting go. "I hope you've been holding up alright. How have you been?" this Mrs. Reynolds inquired of Will.
Mr. Reynolds, I'm guessing, walked up behind Mrs. Reynolds, his hand automatically going to her shoulder, where it stayed, possessively, and smiled at Will. "William!” he called cheerfully, spotting Fancy Pants, who was still stuck in a half-gape. “What are you doing here?"
Will didn't answer, his face turning pink, his mouthing moving in a shocked sputter as he grasped for words.
"Will lives here," I said quietly.
"Oh, is she your girlfriend, Will?" Mrs. Reynolds titter
ed excitedly, turning to me. "She's so pretty. Love the glasses and the hair, dear. Reminds me of that woman... um... what's her name?" Face scrunching up, she glanced up and whacked her husband, eager to get his attention. "What was her name, honey?"
I looked up at Will then and scowled, glowering at the beet red flush that spread across his cheekbones. What? He doesn’t what to be associated with me? Is he, beg pardon, embarrassed?
"Who?" Mr. Reynolds asked, blinking, clearly at a loss and growing confused.
"Oh! Pay attention!” Mrs. Reynolds grew flustered. “The woman whose art show we went to last year!”
“Oh,” he said slowly, settling back into a not so much brooding as contemplative silence.
Mrs. Reynolds, unfazed by her husband’s more austere demeanor, frowned, tapping her index finger along her lip in thought. “Now, what was her name?"
And then Mr. Reynolds sort of popped out of it, like his daydream bubble had ended. "Oh, Tabitha something or other. Very talented young lady," he complimented, offering a short nod of acknowledgment towards his wife that he had indeed been listening—and thinking, while she’d given him little huffs and puffs in his general direction.
"No, we're just neighbors and, yeah... Heh, heh. I get that all the time," I said conversationally, smiling on the outside, panicking on the inside.
Wishing for a place to duck and cover, I looked to Will again.
He didn't look suspicious, but he did look embarrassed. Mortified, even.
Was he embarrassed about me? There is nothing wrong with me that makes it so terrible to be confused for his girlfriend! I'm not a dog, for heaven’s sake!
"What a shame that you two aren't an item!” Mrs. Reynolds said with a gush, tittering happily. “You two would make an adorable couple."
Perhaps, if I didn’t murder him first, I thought sarcastically.
"Are you two visiting or are you moving here?" I asked politely, steering the conversation into a better place.
"Just visiting," Mr. Reynolds answered.
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