Page 86 of Storm in a Teacup
“That’s amazing, man. And, sorry for prying, but does she have a little visual impairment thing going on? It’s just, I’ve noticed her bump into things, and that you guide her in dark spaces, and I’ve overheard a conversation or two you’ve had. It reminds me of my uncle with Macular Degeneration.”
“I’m sure she’d love to be compared to Uncle Earl. She’s basically got the opposite. Macular Degeneration starts in themiddle and moves out, RP starts from the sides and moves in. God, her eyes, though. Have you seen them? That blue? She has the prettiest eyes I have ever seen in my entire life. They’d be perfect if they didn’t give her so much trouble.” I shake my head. “I think they’re perfect anyway, but she hates that this is happening to her, and it crushes me to see her sad about it. Or angry about it. She’s both a lot of the time.”
“She’s lucky she found you.”
“Naw, I’m the lucky one.”
…
The rest of the game is great. There’s this ease between David and me that hasn’t been there the last few times we’ve seen each other. Though, admittedly, maybe it was missing because the last time we were truly alone together was when we were in the toilet the night we had supper. The match was a good idea.
After it ends and we exit the stadium, we get ready to go our separate ways. Before we do, I go in for a hug. Squeezing him tightly, I say, “Thanks for today, mate.” I release him without doing anything peculiar like smelling him.
“It was a good day, Ben. I’ll see you soon? Stop by Hoot sometime I’m working.”
“Aye. Or you stop by the café before you head to campus or whatever.”
“I’ll do it.”
I head back home, feeling the wild temptation to head for Linny’s instead of mine. But I’m getting confused—just like she said. All that talk today about her and Callum got in my head, tricking me into thinking that we’re actually in a relationship. We’re not. I know we’re not.
But I can’t help but wonder if the only thing holding us back is ourselves and our stubbornness.
…
OSCAR WILDE’S MOTHER: How was the football match?
The text from Linny comes in after I get home. I’m lying in bed wishing there was a cat beside me. Or a pretty girl. Or both.
I type my response to Linny.
ME: It was nice. Honestly. Normal, for the most part
OSCAR WILDE’S MOTHER: That’s great
ME: Yeah, I think so too
I gnaw my lip, staring at the bright screen on my phone. I take a few beats, then send her another text.
ME: We talked about you a bit
OSCAR WILDE’S MOTHER: You did?
ME: Yeah. I had asked about Callum. Real dramatic ‘why do you love him and not me’ type question. But in a nice way
ME: So, David asked about you. I just told him everything I like about ya
OSCAR WILDE’S MOTHER: Short list, yeah?
ME: Incredibly long list, actually
ME: Number one being: mother to the best cat in the whole world
OSCAR WILDE’S MOTHER: Naturally
ME: I mean, there’s a reason your contact name is ‘Oscar Wilde’s Mother’
OSCAR WILDE’S MOTHER: It is not
