Page 9 of My Turn Petal
“I just want to help if I can. Better someone you know than some random guy you never even met.”
“Theo…” covering her face with her palms, “I’m sure there are plenty of women who would want to date you.”
Yeah but none of them is you.
I explain, “I thought it’d be convenient since we live in the same building. And we know each other.”
“Please, I can’t deal with this right now.” Her voice breaks while her glossy eyes turn to look away from me.
Why do I have a feeling she’s humiliated by this?
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” I swipe my tongue across my teeth, hating this moment in time. “My door is always open if you want to talk.” I point to the tattoo, “Thanks again.”
I barrel out of the shop and my mind screams FUCK!
Have I just ruined our friendship?
Nah. We’ve been through so much together.
She knows I’m one of the most reliable people around her. Also approachable, literally a few steps away from her apartment. And knows her so fucking well.
If she stops talking to me I’ll get my ghost mask from last year’s Halloween and tell her I’m sorry. I saw the looks she gave me when I wore it. Something tells me she’s into it.
She needs to stop overthinking this and set herself free.
I knocked on Frankie’s door. As I’m waiting, she looks through the peephole, probably contemplating whether she should open the door to some psycho who wears a ghost mask. Yet, it’s Halloween, and since neither of us is doing anything, I thought why not dress up for fun and watch scary movies or whatever she’d like.
With a basket tucked to my side that has all of her favorite snacks, beers, and wine—depending on the mood, chocolate of course, and gummy bears, I wave at her and say, “It’s Theo.” But I know that she already knows it’s me.
I also got her a new book as a holiday gift—some crime romance novel like the ones she’s crazy about.
“Trick or treat?” she says as she opens the door.
“Both,” I answer but I mean something entirely different.
Her eyes bore through my masks, “Did you come here to take me away? I beg of you to kidnap me.” She uses her melodramatic voice.
I chuckle, “Not quite.” I close the door behind me. “But, say the word and I’ll figure out a way to escape.”
“Please!”
I place the basket on the kitchen counter, “Rough day at work?”
“Not really. Just not in the mood today.” She throws herself on her couch.
The TV screen is paused on one of the scenes from the movie, Scream.
“I came right on time,” I point to the TV.
She grins at me, “As usual.”
“Didn’t feel like dressing up?” I flick my eyes at her clothing choice.
The edge of her mouth twitches, and her eyes continue to assess every inch of my body and pause on my face for long seconds.
“Want some company?” I point my palms to the mask. “I brought everything you like.”
“I’d love to.”
