Page 18 of Moved
“Yeah, the Mariners lost.”
He bellowed and with lightning speed, he swiveled and hit the door. His fist tore through the wood, sending splinters flying. Part of me, the crazy excited part, wanted to clap and laugh at the display. The rational part of me, the part that realized I knew nothing about his kind, helped muzzle the crazy part.
“Here’s the thing. Your little tantrum doesn’t scare me. Your tricks, like turning off the power, don’t bother me. Here’s why. My dad trusts you completely with my welfare. If he didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” And that was the only thing that gave me the guts to play with him the way I was. “We both know he can’t come take me away. So, you’re stuck with me for nine months just like I’m stuck with you. We can keep going like we have been the last few days or we can try something else. Something that won’t keep you up nights.”
He stayed facing away from me. His shoulders shook with each heaving breath. “What do you have in mind?”
“Friendship.Trust.”
He gave a dry laugh and tipped his head back as if to look at the ceiling. His eyes were closed though. A prayer for patience, then.
“I’m not saying right away. Let’s just try to be nice to each other. I have no friends here and, from the looks of things, neither do you. If you want me to stay put, give me a reason to.” I shifted my hold on my towel to one hand and laid the other lightly on his back.
“If you want this, then call your dad. Tell him what you did.”
I dropped my hand. “Friends don’t give orders or ultimatums.”
He turned on me, still angry, his eyes dark. He looked ready to go another round with the door.
I sighed. “In for a pinch...”
I opened the towel and flashed him.
****
I woke to my dad yelling in my ear...the ear that had a phone pressed to it.
“What in the hell are you trying to do there. Racer said you basically drugged him and haven’t been keeping up on his self-defense training.”
Funny. Racer didn’t mention me running away, him cutting my power, or me flashing him. I stretch lazily, which dislodged the phone, yawned loudly, and murmured, “Come back to bed, baby.”
“Shit,” Racer said before he left the room.
Torturing Racer was way more fun than finger-painting.
Racer spoke in hushed tones then strode back into the room, looking thunderous. He had the phone clenched in his hand.
“What is wrong with you?”
I closed my eyes, ready to go back to sleep. “Friends knock.”
My bedroom door slammed shut in his wake.
****
I stood by my microwave, waiting for the popcorn to give its dying pops. The buttery aroma filled the apartment. My mouth watered. Please let him be ready to play nice. I opened the door and pulled out the bag.
Leaving my apartment door open, I jogged down the stairs. He opened his door cautiously.
“What are you going to do next? Taser me?”
“Stop being so dramatic.”
His anger left him. He stared at me, recognizing his own words. “Is that what this is about?”
“You’re a little slow but this friendship might just work out. What movies do you have?”
He opened the door wide and let me in. I handed him the popcorn.
