by Chris Cannon
I nodded at Grant. “Morning.”
“Good morning.” Pointing at my grandfather’s watch, he said, “You must’ve gotten some sleep last night.”
Okay. Small talk. I could do this. “I did, but I’m ready for the weekend.”
“Big plans?” he asked.
“Yes. Naps interrupted by bouts of binge watching Netflix. There might be some cake baking in between.”
He laughed. “Watch out, you’ll end up on the evening news: Teenage girl goes on Netflix bender.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Bantering with Grant felt natural. We could be friends. Of course, it would be a lot easier to think friend thoughts if he wasn’t so good-looking.
Chapter Eight
Grant
When I asked Zoe what she was doing this weekend, I thought she’d say, nothing, which was the standard girl response if she hoped you were about to ask her on a date. Not that I’d planned on asking her out, I was just filling the void left by my suddenly talkative best friend.
I had no idea what he was doing with Delia. Maybe he did just want to be friends with her. Playing back-up to him was a strange new role, but it left me free to relax and talk to Zoe in a no-pressure situation, since I wasn’t the one who initiated contact. Which made dating sound like interacting with an alien life-form. Where Zoe was concerned, that wasn’t an inaccurate description. She never reacted the way I expected, which was interesting. And she didn’t try to tell me what to do or how to do something, which made hanging around her fun. It’s like she didn’t have an agenda. Wait a minute…had I been friend-zoned? No way was I okay with that lame category. Maybe I should flirt with her just a little bit.
The bell for first hour rang, so we went our separate ways. Once we were out of the hearing range of the girls, I said, “What’s going on between you and Delia?”
Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know. I like talking to her.”
“Are you going to ask her on a date?”
“I think we’re good as friends, but I need to collect more data.”
There was the Aiden I recognized. He didn’t do anything spur of the moment. His entire life was planned out. “Ten bucks says you’ve created a spread sheet listing her positive and negative qualities.”
“Of course I have, so no bet. At this point I don’t have much information to go on. What about you and Zoe?”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Right. That’s why you smile at her so much.”
Did I smile too much? “It’s called being smooth.”
“I thought it was called keeping your options open, so you could win the bet.”
“That too.” What should my next move be? “Maybe we should see if they want to hang out this weekend. Not like a date, just something where we meet up with them.”
“I’d be open to that, but you’re in charge of making it happen. Talk to Zoe in Foods, see what you can work out.”
I needed to mention something that the girls would want to attend no matter if we were going or not. I pulled out my cell and Googled local events. Apple butter festival, craft fair, outside screening of a movie I’d never heard of at a nearby park, and a pie eating contest at Betty’s Burgers. No, no, no, and hell no. I switched over to the new movies coming out this weekend. Thank goodness that Love Lost movie was gone. There were a few action movies that looked good, and a new Sci Fi movie about space vampires I wanted to see. Maybe I could steer Zoe toward that.
In Foods, I set my phone down on the table so Zoe could see what I was doing and pulled up the movie times.
“Anything good on?” Zoe leaned in so she could see the screen. The scent of oranges drifted up from her hair. What was that about?
“Oh.” She pointed at the screen. “The space vampire movie is out.”
Mission accomplished. “Aiden and I might go see that.”
Zoe sat back and stared off into space. “I’ll probably have to let Delia cut my hair to get her to see it with me.”
“What’s that mean?”
She laughed. “Delia prefers artsy films and I like paranormal and Sci Fi. In order to get her to go with me, sometimes it’s necessary to bribe her by letting her mess with my hair or my clothes.”
“Interesting. How does she get you to the Artsy movies?”
“I like to try new recipes, and she lets me use her as a guinea pig.”
In a strange way that made sense. “Aiden will want to go. We could meet at the theater Saturday night and hang out afterward.”
Zoe froze for a second, and then sat back in her seat and stared at me. “What does that mean? Hang out?”
Okay. Maybe this wouldn’t be so easy. “I don’t know. Just a no-pressure situation where we meet someplace and have fun.”
“Like friends?” she asked.
I didn’t want to label the situation, but I doubted Zoe would go unless I agreed. “Sure. That sounds good.”
“So, if anyone asks you’ll tell them we’re just friends, right? Because I’ve heard that people are still talking about me like I’m the Ringer.”
Now I understood where this was coming from. “If I hear any crap like that, I’ll take care of it.”
…
Zoe
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Delia asked as we pulled into the parking lot at the movie theater Saturday night.
I pointed at my hair, which she’d foiled, adding cinnamon colored lowlights and cut to shoulder length last night. “Hello, you’ve already had your way with my hair, so there’s no backing out now.”
“Your hair looks awesome.”
I flipped down the visor and checked out the new me. “It does, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “And I wasn’t talking about the movie. I was talking about this whole hanging-out agenda.”
I’d been pondering Grant’s reasons for suggesting this plan of action. “Maybe Aiden just needs a low pressure situation to feel confident, and if he has a good time then he’ll ask you out.”
“If I wanted to go out with him, why couldn’t I ask him? Why do women have to wait for men to make the first move?”
“And so goes the dating lament females have been griping about since the beginning of time.”
“You know Grant saying he just wants to be friends is a load of crap.”
Maybe, maybe not. “Who cares? Space vampires and popcorn await us beyond those doors.” I pointed to the theater and checked the time on the dash. “Let’s go so we can grab good seats.”
“What if the guys already have seats picked out?” Delia asked as we jogged across the parking lot to get out of the cool autumn air.
“If we don’t like the seats we tell them they can sit with us in another spot. The joy of this not being a date is we don’t have to worry about offending them.”
“When have you ever worried about that?” Delia asked as she pulled the theater door open.
“It occasionally crosses my mind.” I headed for the shortest ticket line.
After we purchased our tickets, popcorn, and soda we headed into theater four and scanned the dimly lit area for two familiar faces.
“They aren’t here yet,” Delia said.
“Then we can pick the seats.” I headed toward the tenth row and sat in the second seat so Delia would end up in the third seat, allowing Aiden to sit in the fourth seat next to her.
“You should scoot over one more,” Delia said, “in case Aiden and Grant want to sit next to each other.”
“Nope.” I took off my jacket and laid it on the chair next to me. “Grant can sit next to me, or he can sit on the floor.”
“Okay.” Delia placed her purse on the fourth seat and we waited. The lights dimmed, and the previews started.
Maybe they’d changed their mind. That would be a decidedly un-friendly thing to do. I checked the time on my cell. The movie was due to start in ten minutes. No need to panic yet.
“We don’t need them here to enjoy the movie.” Delia pulled a bag of
candy corn from her purse and added it to the popcorn.
“You’re right, but I’m going to be super-pissed if they bail on us since this was their idea. Bad things might happen to their cars.”
“You better tell your grandmother to start a swear jar for bail money.”
It was an old joke. Delia and I both had tempers which my grandmother was sure would eventually have her bailing us out of jail, at some point.
I picked at the popcorn and pretended to watch the previews. Where was Grant? If this had been some elaborate set-up to mess with me, my grandmother really was going to need bail money. It was one thing to not be interested in me and suggest we hang out as friends. It was another superiorly shitty thing to invite me somewhere and then ditch me like it was some sort of stupid prank.
As the minutes ticked by, my mood nosedived. When the movie started, I sunk low in my seat ignoring the popcorn laced with candy corn Delia offered.
“Maybe they’re just running late,” she said.
“Doesn’t matter,” I lied. “We’re here and we have popcorn.”
At least the movie was interesting. I got sucked into the story and the ninety minutes flew by.
When the credits rolled, Delia glanced over at me. “What did you think?”
“Considering the homicidal mood I’m in, it was pretty good.”
Delia stood. “We’re going to Art of Tea. I’ll paint, you can crochet, and we’ll plot different ways to vandalize Grant’s car.”
“Works for me.”
We weaved through all the people in the lobby and headed into the parking lot toward my car.
“Hey, you’re going in the wrong direction,” Grant’s voice called out.
Grant and Aiden came toward us smiling like everything was wonderful.
“No we’re not.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Grant.
“What’s going on?” Grant looked back and forth between me and Delia.
I forced a calm tone. “You asked us to come here and meet you to watch a movie together and then you didn’t show up. That’s what’s going on.”
Aiden reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Grant, did you and Zoe decide on the late show, or did you just assume she’d know that’s what you meant?”
Grant moved a step closer to me. “You just finished watching the movie, didn’t you?”
“And you thought we bailed on you,” Aiden said.
I shrugged. “No big deal. It’s not like this was a date.”
“It’s still a crappy thing to do but now that we’ve figured out what happened,” Grant said, “do you want to go grab something to eat?”
“We were going to the Art of Tea, if you want to join us.” No way was I changing my plans to fit what they wanted.
“Never heard of it,” Grant said, “but I’m guessing they have tea.”
“It’s on old Main Street on the left hand side,” Delia said. “It’s a white two story house. You’ll see people sitting on the wraparound porch working on looms.”
“Looms?” Grant said like he hadn’t heard correctly, or hoped he hadn’t.
“Think of it as penance.” I smiled sweetly at him and headed for my car.
On the drive across town, I tried to figure out how I felt. “What’s your spin on this?”
“Grant is an idiot.”
“Besides that.”
“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”
Not like I could argue the point. The parking lot at Art of Tea was almost full. “I hope we can find a table inside.”
“You go stake out a table and I’ll grab two raspberry teas.”
I spotted two open tables and chose the small round table by a window. It looked like an ice cream parlor table with just enough room to set drinks for a few people. A family of six came in and sat at the bigger table. I was glad I’d left the bigger table open. If I were to guess, I’d say the family was two kids with their parents and grandparents. My chest gave a familiar ache. I missed having my entire family together. No father and no grandfather left a big hole in my family gatherings. I was grateful for the people I had left. Even if Jack was obnoxious half the time.
Grant entered the establishment with a wary look on his face. Aiden scanned the area like he was analyzing the situation.
I waved when they glanced my way. Grant came toward me while Aiden headed toward the counter where Delia stood in line.
“What is this place?” Grant asked.
“It’s fun.” I pointed at the half finished paintings on the wall. “You can work on a community painting or start your own or try any other craft you want.”
“What do you like to do?”
“I crochet.” Standing up, I said, “Now that you’re here I’m going to pick out some yarn. Be right back.”
I browsed through the baskets of yarn and found a multi colored jewel toned skein of yarn which allowed me to choose one of several colors of crochet hooks. I went with emerald since it was larger than the others.
By the time I returned to the table, Delia and Aiden had joined us. Four mugs sat on the table. “Which one is mine?” I asked.
Grant pushed an elephant shaped mug toward me. “You are the proud owner of this hideously ugly mug.”
“It is kind of bad, isn’t it?” I laughed and picked the cup up by the trunk, blowing on my tea before taking a sip.
“I think Aiden wins second runner up for ugliest mug contest.” Delia pointed at Aiden’s mug which resembled a pumpkin missing its stem.
Grant held his black and brown speckled mug. “If I hadn’t seen some of the other options, I’d think the lady behind the counter didn’t like me.”
Delia held up her delicate china cup covered in butterflies. “I must be her favorite.”
Grant pointed at my head. “Cool hair.”
“Thanks.”
We made small talk and joked around for an hour, while Delia added circles and lines to someone’s attempt at abstract art. “This person had no sense of balance.”
“At least they tried,” Aiden said.
“You should try it.” Delia offered him the brush.
“No thanks.” He pushed his chair back a little bit. “Not in my nature. Give me a page full of numbers and a problem to solve and I’m good. Don’t ask me to paint or draw or God forbid, dance.”
I leaned closer to Grant. “Want to learn how to crochet?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a skill I can live without.”
“When the zombie apocalypse comes I’ll have scarves and blankets. You’ll be dependent on whatever is already in your house.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Are you sure?” I held out the six inches of multi-colored scarf I’d crocheted so far. “I think you’d look lovely in a sweater made from this yarn.”
“Nope. It’s against guy-code to wear that many colors at once.”
I laughed. Hanging out with Grant like this was fun. He may not be boyfriend material, but he was entertaining.
When the conversation slowed, Delia stood and grabbed her painting. “I’m going to put this back on the wall for someone else to finish.”
I looked at my off-kilter scarf.
“Shouldn’t each row be the same width?” Grant asked.
“I prefer a free-form method. Besides, someone can unravel it and fix it if they want.” After putting my project in the yarn area, and returning to the table, I said, “This was fun.”
“Sorry about the time mix-up,” Grant said.
“It all worked out in the end,” I said. And it had, in a non-date way, which was the way it was supposed to work. “See you guys later.” I headed for the door, leaving Delia to say her goodbyes. She joined me before my feet hit the bottom step of the front porch but waited until we were in my car to speak.
“That was fun in a weird platonic sort of way.”
“Yeah, there was a definite lack of flirting this evening.” It was like Grant had pitched camp on the other side
of the dating line and he didn’t want to cross it.
“I guess we’ll just wait and see if anything interesting happens,” Delia said.
Chapter Nine
Zoe
I spotted Aiden and Delia drinking coffee together on the quad. Delia held two coffees, one of which should be for me, so she maintained her status as my best friend. Grant wasn’t in the immediate area. Not that I was looking for him, but I thought it was a good idea to keep tabs on him to avoid any awkwardness.
Delia toasted my approach with one of the coffee cups and stepped away from Aiden. “Wait until you try this.”
“As long as it’s coffee, I’m good.” I took a sip and tasted hot cocoa with a hint of coffee. “What is this?”
“It’s the only way I drink coffee,” Aiden said. “Half cocoa half coffee. That way it kills the coffee flavor.”
“It’s good.” The downside to this concoction…did it only have half the caffeine? Because I was pretty sure I’d miss the normal amount.
The tone for first hour sounded. I shuffled along with the horde of half-awake students to first hour, congratulating myself on not asking Aiden where Grant might be.
Lena seemed half asleep during class, which was fine by me. Delia and I ate lunch together sans any males, friend or otherwise. And then it was off to Foods. Grant came to class late looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. I’d never seen him looking less than stellar, which made me think something had to be wrong.
Grant gave Ms. Ida a note and came to sit at our normal table.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. I recognized his expression. It was the same one Jack had worn after my dad and grandfather passed away. His lips were tight. His eyes were narrowed.
I reached over and squeezed his forearm. “I know something is wrong. You don’t have to share details, but I can listen if you need to talk.”
He nodded, but didn’t meet my gaze. Ms. Ida sent us back to our kitchens with instructions to measure out ingredients for mac ’n cheese. Not difficult. I filled the Ziploc bags and passed them off to Grant so he could write on them with a blue sharpie.