Eliza Jane - In Too Deep

“Okay.” He takes a seat in the chair by the door, wisely giving me some space. “I ordered some Chinese food. That alright with you?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, reminding me it’s been hours since breakfast.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Our food’s here. Thank God for the distraction.

Colt arranges the cartons of egg rolls, fried rice, sweet and sour chicken, and chow mein noodles in the center of the table. He cracks open a can of Coke and slides it toward me. “I know you like diet. But this has sugar. Drink it. It’ll make you feel better.”

He hands me a pair of chopsticks.

I fumble with them, looking down.

“Did the bath help?” he asks, glancing up at me through his eyelashes.

I nod. “It did. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smiles.

I’m relieved to see that things feel back to normal between us, the kiss already forgotten, which is both a relief, and sort of insulting.

He slides the container of fried rice toward me. “Eat. And stop thinking. Field assignments aren’t always like that. I know this seems crazy right now, but it won’t always. And getting some food in your system will help.”

I nod. The food does smell good. I try a bite of rice, wishing I had a fork. I manage to get some of it in my mouth, but most of the rice lands on the table in front of me.

Colt’s eyes follow my movements, and after another failed attempt with the chopsticks, he leans in toward me, taking my chopsticks. He loads them with rice and lifts the bite to my mouth. I hesitate for a second, then open it and let him feed me. “Good girl.”

I chew the rice and make myself swallow. He turns the chopsticks over to me, pushing the rice container closer. It’s nice to know that he cares enough to make sure I’m well fed. I can’t allow myself to mistake his concern for something it’s not though. I’ve seen his track record with girls. I have no plans to get on that list.

“Eat, Taylor,” he says, noticing I’m lost in my own thoughts again and thrusts the container of sweet and sour chicken toward me. “A few more bites.” He picks up the chopsticks I’ve distractedly set down and hands them to me again.

When it comes time for bed, without a word, Colt makes a pile of blankets on the floor for himself. This place isn’t exactly topping the cleanliness charts, the carpet looks sort of cruddy, but I keep my mouth shut, it’s not like I’m about to suggest that we share the bed. I’m not that stupid. 

I toss and turn on the hard mattress unable to sleep. I glance at the digital clock. One in the morning. I hear Colt turn over on the floor. I peek off the edge of the bed, trying to see if he’s awake. In the moonlight streaming through the curtains, I can see his eyes are open.

“Hi.” He looks up at me.

“Hi.” I giggle, feeling like I’ve been caught. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

I don’t say it’s because I’m freaking out about that kiss just as much as I am over our botched assignment earlier today.

He sits up, and stretches. I notice at some point, he changed into a pair of mesh shorts and a white T-shirt.

“Is there any Chinese food left?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “There might be an egg roll left.” He gets up, turns on a lamp and rummages through the containers we left on the table. “And some noodles too.”

He carries both containers over to me, setting them on the bed and hands me a pair of chop sticks.

“Thanks.”

“Mind if I turn the TV on?”

“Nope,” I say around a mouthful of noodles.

He flips on the TV, and stands at the end of the bed, flipping through the channels.

“You can sit with me.” I pat the side of the bed.

“Thanks.” He sits down, scooting up until his back is pressed against the headboard.

“Want a bite?” I offer him half the egg roll.

“I’m good, thanks.” He smirks.

We watch mindless middle of the night infomercials while I polish off the last of the Chinese food.

When I come back from brushing my teeth, Colt is sprawled out on the bed, looking a little too comfortable. I let it pass and lie down next to him.

I think about how different my life has become in the past few months. I miss living at home with my parents, I miss our pancake breakfasts on Saturday mornings, and working side by side with my dad on the computer – on things that would never get you attacked by a German jewel thief.  I miss them more than I thought I would.

“Colt?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss your family, being away at the school, I mean?”

He’s quiet for a second, as if considering my question. “I miss my mom. My dad, not so much.” He rolls over onto his side, facing me. “Are you homesick?”

I nod, meeting his eyes. “I guess so.”

“Do you have a boyfriend back home?”

“Nope.” The memory of Wes rears its ugly head, but I push back down.

“So what about you? After your heartfelt breakup with Bria yesterday…no girlfriend?”

He smirks. “I know you’ve heard the rumors about me by now,” he says calmly. “Not all of them are true, by the way.”

I notice he doesn’t deny that some of them are true, or clarify which ones are fact and which are fiction.

“Love is a farce” he says.

Oh, how original. A hot guy that doesn’t believe in love. I keep my mouth closed, waiting for him to explain himself.

He continues, “I mean love as an emotion, yes, that exists. I love sushi, for instance. But being in love – with one person? No.”

So he’s never been in love. I guess I haven’t really either. But I never doubted it existed. Seeing my parents together – the way my dad was an ass sometimes and my mom was calm and loving with him when I felt like storming to my room and slamming to the door –told me there was something deeper at work. Of course I loved my dad, but she was clearly in love with him. They still cuddled on the couch during movies and kissed goodbye every morning. I knew I wanted that someday. I believe in that.

“What about your parents? Are they still married?”

“Ah, no.” He clears his throat. “My mom passed away when I was fourteen. Cancer.”

“I’m so sorry.” I prop up on my elbow and look at him.

“Thanks.” He offers me a small smile.  “I still miss her. That’s weird, right? I’ve lived much of my life without her.”

“That’s because you love her.” I’m determined to prove love is real.

His lazy smile captures me again, his eyes full of doubt.

I wondered how different I’d be if I’d grown up without my mother. Without her warm lap, her loving hands, her no-nonsense advice that shaped who I am today. No wonder he seemed so hardened. I wondered if he truly didn’t believe in love, or if he just hadn’t felt it in so long, he forgot it existed. It made me sad.

              “Just because you haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I don’t get how planes fly, but they do, right?”

“Wise words, Taylor,” he teases.

Jerk.

Colt raises his arm, inspecting his leather bracelet. The strings are ragged and thin. I can’t imagine it’ll last much longer. He rolls it between his thumb and finger, turning the bracelet around on his wrist.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have pried about your mom and everything,” I offer.