Page 65 of Sparks Fly
It was weird to have him here. Stella didn’t want to be self-conscious about where she lived. She loved her apartment building and neighborhood, one of the few remaining places in Brooklyn that wasn’t gentrified yet. Sure, the building needed some repairs, and her landlord answered their requests only when he felt like it, but she knew most of the people on her floor well enough to at least give a friendly wave or nod, and she only needed to walk ten minutes to get to her favorite hair-braiding place and another five minutes to get the best oxtails in Brooklyn.
Max couldn’t see that just by looking at her dimly lit hallway or the size of her tiny apartment. She couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about it all. She stopped herself from asking, instead making a beeline to Chelsea’s bedroom as soon as they walked through the door.
She knocked on Chelsea’s door, but after waiting a moment with no response, she twisted the knob, opened the door, and peeked in. The room was dark so she squinted atChelsea’s bed for a moment until she was sure there was nobody in there, then flicked on the bedroom light to be doubly sure.
Stella was relieved she wouldn’t have to introduce Chelsea to Max this evening, but she was slightly irritated that after the grief Chelsea gave her last weekend she was now AWOL. Walking back into the living room, she called Chelsea, who picked up on the third ring.
“Hiiiii!”
Stella pulled the phone back from her ear, and Max, who’d made himself comfortable on her couch, gave her a quizzical look. She shook her head and turned her back to him.
“Hi,” Stella said. “Where are you?”
From the background noise, Stella could guess Chelsea was at some bar or club, but Stella couldn’t even begin to guess what kind of bar was that loud on a Wednesday night.
“Red as Sin,” Chelsea said. “I decided to come out and try my luck since you were so successful.”
“Isn’t your phone supposed to be off in there?”
“Oh, you’re so right, gotta go, be home late, bye!”
And then Chelsea was gone.
Stella stared at her phone for a minute in disbelief. She could feel irritation morphing into anger inside her, but she didn’t want those feelings to ruin her night with Max, so she forced herself to take a few deep, long breaths before she turned back to face Max again.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yup, fine,” she said. “My roommate is out so we have the whole place to ourselves.”
“Oh?”
“Yup,” Stella said again. “It’s probably for the best because, as you can see, my place isn’t that big, and if she was here, she’d hear everything. I mean, if we were going to do something. Not that I’m assuming we will do something. Just that whenever she has company I tend to hear everything, so—”
“Stella.”
At some point, Max had gotten up from the couch and was now standing in front of her, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Do you want to show me your room?”
“Oh, yes, right this way.”
Max moved aside so she could step past him and lead him the short distance to her bedroom. She opened the door and thanked whatever god was listening that her room wasn’t a complete disaster zone. Her bed wasn’t made, but it was free of any piles of clothes or miscellaneous items. The space was cluttered with her tiny bookshelf in one corner, overflowing with so many books she was confident it would break any day now, and her dresser in the other, a variety of knickknacks and photos sitting atop it.
Next to her bed was her little night table, with a precarious extension cord filled with chargers for her phone, computer, and portable battery charger. She also had a cup of water there, and she had no idea if that was from this morning or a week ago. It also suddenly occurred to her that having water by so much electricity was probably an accident waiting to happen, and she rushed over to move the cup to her dresser.
Max was still standing in the doorway, taking it in, and she wondered how it all looked to him. Probably like she wasliving in squalor or something. Her closet was barely closed, and Stella could see the clothes piled up in her hamper threatening to break free, but there was no use in trying to hide that now.
Instead, she sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Max do a small circle around her room.
“Is it fair to say you like pink?”
Stella didn’t know what she thought he’d say, but it definitely wasn’t that.
“It is,” Stella said. “Though honestly, I don’t even really notice it anymore.”
Theitbeing the fact that everything in her room, from her sheets to the cup of water to her extension cord, were all millennial pink—and yes, that shade of pink specifically. Stella would occasionally go for a slightly darker shade if there was no other option, like her rose gold laptop, but otherwise, she liked the softness of millennial pink, and if she had to buy something and could get it in that color, she always did.
