Alicekai'd 1.26: Becca and Jarred

     I had a strange dream last night. I think it stemmed from my random thought on whether or not I am a townie and not the main character in this world... because it was exactly that. What if I'm a mere byproduct of the computations going on to create the game world? Then how did this consciousness get transferred into this body? What if I never lived in the real world? What if, like I wondered once about Bruno, my memories are mere fabrications of the 1's and 0's that make up me?

     I get on the computer. It's time to travel the rabbit hole once more.

 

     Again, I don't really find anything, so I decide to type up my own thoughts. IF I'm merely a background character, why do I have conscious thought? I don't know much about philosophy, but I do remember hearing that Descartes said, "I think therefore I am." If that is true, then I DO exist. Somehow.

     So are there those who do not have conscious thought? I don't see how I could prove this. If an AI is asked whether or not it does, it would be programmed to answer in the affirmative, even though it's not true. One can only be sure of the self.

     THAT gets me thinking, and I type that into the search bar for SimTube. I find something.

     A man tells the hypothetical story of people who only ever experienced life in a dark basement. The only people they see are just shadows on the wall, and so they assume the shadows are real people. Then, one gets taken upstairs and shown what the world on the surface is like. The person sees how much more real the world is, and so he goes back down to the basement to tell everyone else what he's learned. However, he's unable to see in the dark anymore, and the others, seeing what has become of him, don't trust what is on the surface and decide it's too dangerous to venture forth into the unknown.

     Why does this sound familiar? I feel like I've heard a version of this before in some psychology class or something, but I can't pinpoint it. Perhaps I'm inventing a memory.

     And I don't even WANT to go down the rabbit hole of invented memories.

     I need to physically write in something. I go and find a notebook I'd bought before I moved into the house, and I sit at the table next to my computer and write. I need a flowchart or something to put all these pieces together.

     I'm trying to fit the basement story in with all the other things I've learned. Obviously, The Sims game is the basement. What most intrigues me is the idea that someone was TAKEN OUT to be shown what the real world is. That's, although hypothetical, the only thing I've found about someone going up a level.
 

 

 

     I can put it off no longer. It's time to play Rebecca, or 'Becca' in my movie. They'd previously shot as much as they could of all the other characters that didn't involve me, but as I'm the main character, it wasn't much.

     I have no idea why directors choose to start in the middle somewhere chronologically in the script, but today, I'm in an apology scene at the pack's headquarters.

 

     To make it easier and let me immerse myself, the crew either leave the studio or stand far enough back that I can't see them. That DOES help, but what it doesn't help is that I'm 'alone' with Mark, even if he's Jarred right now. We haven't spoken since he walked out, and thus far, we still haven't spoken anything but lines to each other.

     "I'm sorry. I didn't know that was a rule," I tell Jarred, talking about one of the pack's laws.

     "How could you have known?" He kisses my forehead.

     Honestly, I want to hit him every time he touches me. Apparently despising one another makes for fantastic sexual chemistry on set. No, you're Becca, remember? You're in love with a supernatural being and trying to fit into his world. 

     "Cut!" We hear.

     Mark lets out an 'augh!' sound. "What now?" We've done this scene ten times already--with just the one setup. That doesn't count the close-ups, etc. that are coming next.

     The director wants more emotion out of Mark when he kisses my forehead. Thrill.

     Becca looks up at Mark. "You love me, remember?" I smile sweetly.

     He responds with a glare.

     "From the top. Action!" cries our critical director.

     We work the lines again. Come on, dammit. Just get out of your own head and be Jarred! 

     Then the kiss. This time, he lingers on my hair. It's longer for the film. They put in extensions.

     Whoa. Mark, I mean Jarred wraps his hand around the back of my head this time, pulling on where the extensions attach. Ow! 

     "Cut!" 

     "Ow! You bastard!"

     The director ignores my complaint. "That was great, guys. I think we got it that time. Hold for playback."

     "Ugh!" I sit up to Mark's light laughter.

     "Not funny," I tell him.

     He laughs again. "Aw, you used to like it when I'd pull your hair." He smirks. "Besides, Chris loved it."

     "Yeah, well, Chris ain't gonna like it that hair has to reset me after every take if you keep that up."

     "I don't care if you have to wear a fucking wig, Alice."

     I glare at him. "Carlie's sleeping through the night."

     He looks away. "Don't talk to me."

     "Fine with me."

     The director's happy with that take, so the crew starts setting up the next shot. Finally. I get a break as second team gets called in. I make a beeline for the hair department.

     The rest of the day doesn't fare much better, and by the time we finally wrap, I'm exhausted. At least tomorrow is an afternoon call time. 

     Today, we're shooting the scene when Jarred has to leave and won't know when he'll get to come back. I'm supposed to cry.

     And Mark is shirtless. Again.

 

      At least we're shooting over my shoulder, meaning I don't have to actually produce the tears yet. That'll come later on the reverse. I'm wondering if director Chris did this on purpose because he's figuring me out. I get more emotional as the day wears on.

     "So you're just going to disappear, and I won't know what's happened to you?" I point at his why-do-you-have-to-be-so-sexy chest.

     "Yes. That's the way it has to be." He stoically ignores the physical abuse I'm giving him. Oh if only I actually got to hurt him. 

     "I don't believe you! You're using this as an excuse!"

     He sighs. "Why would I do that, Becca?"

     "Because you think I'm not good enough for you!" This is where the tears are supposed to come in. Surprise, Chris! Got 'em! I turn around and move to walk away, and I can FEEL the lens on my face.

     "Don't be ridiculous!" He stomps after me, and the dolly team moves along the track.

     "You know what, Jarred? Just LEAVE. Forget about me and go and die, leaving me to always wonder what happened."

     He cuts in front of me, blocking my advance, right on our markers.

     I cry into my hands, knowing I couldn't outrun him if I tried.

     "Becca, I'm not going to die."

     "Cut!"

     What the blazes did we do wrong? Why didn't he let us complete the scene? I watch the crew. Oh. Camera issue. Dammit. It's freaking hot out here, and apparently, the cameras don't like the heat any more than I do in this long-sleeved shirt and ten extra pounds of hair.

     Immediately, crew members dash over to us to cool us off. Some blessed saint holds up my hair while someone else fans the back of my neck.

     "Oh my god, thank you," I say before taking a swig of a water bottle someone handed me.

     Mark and I go have a seat in the shade, not speaking, while the other teams fix their issues.

     We do the scene over again a few more times. They all feel the same to me, but Chris finally feels happy, and we move on...

     ... to the damn kiss.

     I've been dreading this all day.

     I let Mark take the lead, having been an occasional soap star definitely made him fine with kissing on camera. I try to act like the desperate human girlfriend who's saying goodbye to the love of her life.

     Mark as Jarred really gets into it. When are they going to call cut? It's not the first time Chris has let us continue past the official end of the scene, just to see what we'd do. Most of it has been crap, though, so he probably won't use any of it.

     Wait.

     Mark moans and starts owning my mouth. What the hell? 

     He reaches down and grabs my ass. WHAT?! It's MARK kissing ALICE now, and he's pushing it too far. When his hand lands on my chest, I shove him off me.

     "You sonofabitch! That's not in the script!"

     "Up yours, Alice. I was in character. Why? Got a little too real for you?" He smirks.

     "I'm done here!" I turn and start making for the little base camp they'd set up. I need some A/C pronto. I nicely wait for the camera department to get the one they just used out of the sun before I can happily stomp off.

     "We're not finished, Alice," Mark calls out to me, and I see my assistant running over to me. "You can't just walk out like this."

     Oooooooo..... I can't believe he said that to me.

 

     "Right, because that's YOUR job," I retort.

     "Okay fine. We'll have it out." I hear him walking behind me. "Yeah, I walked out. Wouldn't you if someone you thought you might spend the rest of your life with said she didn't love you?"

     "I was just being honest."

     "What did I do wrong?" he asks.

     "Nothing. I don't know. It just wasn't there." I pause. "And now you've also walked out on Carlie."

     "About that." He takes a breath. "I have a lawyer writing up a custody thing. Probably have it by tomorrow."

     My heart drops into my stomach, and my assistant stops in her tracks, wisely staying back.

     "What?" I almost whisper, my voice like ice. "You're not taking my baby from me."

     "She's not just YOUR baby. I want visitation."

     "Visitation? With an infant?" After the words leave my mouth, my reasonable mind agrees that, yeah, he should have visitation. But I'm roasting out here and just had my ass unnecessarily grabbed.

     "Yeah! Dammit, Alice. I want to see my daughter. I walked out on you not her."

     "Fine. Just.... leave me alone." I start making my way to the blessed A/C.

Alicekai'd 1.25: Date Night

 

     "Yes, I have a dinner reservation for two under the name Landgraab." We're at the restaurant, and Geoffrey is talking to the hostess.

 

      This is great. When he came to pick me up, the way his eyes raked over me in this dress made every cell in my body come alive. Carlie has a babysitter, and I felt Geoffrey watching me as I finalized things with her. So simple. It wasn't anything really... except that it was. Just from a look? Dayum. 

     "Yes, sir," the lady says, messing with her screen. "Ah, here we are. Right this way." We follow her for a bit to a cute, little table tucked away behind a kind of partition.

     Geoffrey immediately starts perusing the menu. I'll look at mine in a minute. Right now, I'm sitting here and letting all this soak in, telling myself this is really happening. In a game. Answering my thought, I wonder what if it isn't just a game? What if this is just a different kind of reality? And what if The Sims is just a way to access that reality? Whether this is 'actually' happening or not is a moot point. I FEEL like it's happening, so that's enough for me. I don't feel as if someone is controlling me. Hm, perhaps others, but not me. Am I a townie?

     "The lobster here is exquisite," Geoff says, pulling me out of my reverie.

     "Oh," I reply brilliantly and finally get out my menu.

     As I stare at mine, Geoffrey stops looking at his and instead starts looking at me.

     "Lobster, huh?" I need to get him talking.

     "Yeah." He won't stop staring!

     "Geoff, I can't read this with you staring at me like that." I don't even have to look up to know he's smiling.

     "Why shouldn't I stare at you? You know I love that dress, and I'm just sitting here hoping that's why you wore it."

     "It is." I close my eyes. He's not even touching me. How is he doing this? I'm jittery.

     He lets out a happy sigh. "I'm glad. It accentuates your femininity in all the best ways." There's a pause. "I just wish this damn plant weren't in the middle of the table blocking my view."

     I smirk. "Oh, I don't know. The plant makes it more of a challenge." I'm saved from his rebuttal by our server arriving at the table to take our order.

     We each order lobster but fixed in different ways. The server takes our order then relieves us of my one distraction, the menus. It's like my shield gets taken away.

     He laughs nervously like the same thought just occurred to him. "I'm so happy right now, Alice. If it weren't for this damn plant on the table, this would be perfect."

     "Oh, well, then, good thing the plant is here. I'd get nervous if things were TOO perfect." I have no idea where this conversation might go, and I'm about to jump out of my skin from nerves. This is a big deal. Sitting across from me is the one person I've really felt a connection with since getting stuck here.

     His eyes open, and he hits me with a playful stare. "And what's wrong with TOO perfect?"

     How did I never see it? He adores me. Maybe I chose not to see it because it scares the shit out of me. "When things are too perfect, I worry they're not real."

     "Oh, this is definitely real." His eyes slowly move down the dress... or rather, me.

 

     "What if it's all a dream?"

     "Then I pray we never wake up. I want this to last forever."

     I smirk again. "You want us to sit here at the restaurant forever? How is that perfect?"

     He grins, having the time of his life, looks like. "No, I don't want to stay at the restaurant forever; although, if it's with you, it wouldn't be so bad."

     "Oh, well good to know it wouldn't 'be so bad.' I'd hate to bore you."

     "'Bore' me? Now, that is something you could never do."

     I love this, this back-and-forth we're having. Mark would've already made a sexual comment of some sort, but Geoffrey doesn't have to. I'm not saying it's not there, but he's wittier about it. "I don't know. I might," I reply, implying that I could certainly bore him.

     "Never. For one, sometimes I have no idea what's going to come out of your mouth next." His eyes hide nothing. He's not even touching me, and I feel alive.

     "I think if we sat at this restaurant forever, you'd figure me out pretty quickly."

     His smile grows. "Doubtful. Because it's so much fun throwing things out there just to see what you'd say."

     I give him a half-smile. "Like what?"

     His eyes tell me he's glad I asked. "Well, that dress, for example. Yes, I love it, but do you want to know why?" He sees my expression tells him to explain. "Because I'm dying to run my tongue along the fabric."

     I almost fall out of the chair. I think because of the shock of it because I think sometimes I see Geoffrey as some level of sexually immature, meaning not as knowledgeable or something like that. It probably has to do with the lack of obvious innuendo, which is what I'm used to. I could not be more wrong. In this moment, I'M the baby here.

     I'm saved from responding by the arrival of our food.

     Then I get an idea. "Well, here's something else to entertain your tongue."

     He replies quietly, "Not nearly as good." Then, he turns to our server. "Would you please remove the table decor? I'm finding it blocking my view."

     Our server smirks. "Certainly, sir. Will there be anything else?"

     "Not at the moment, thank you." And again, I lose another shield.

     I have to comment. "First my menu and now the plant. I'm starting to feel exposed."

     Oh, he liked that. With a burning in his eyes, he lifts his wine glass in a toast. "Here's to your exposure then." He takes a drink, his gaze never leaving me.
     It's like I may as well be sitting here naked. I love it. I WANT him to find me attractive, and I start to wonder how this night will end.

     As we eat, Geoffrey turns the conversation toward our children. Bruno has a new bicycle, which he loves reminding Geoff that it's just one step away from a motorcycle. I tell him that Carlie has finally started sleeping through the night. He doesn't take the hint and continues to keep the conversation platonic.

    We finish our meal, pay, and leave the restaurant. Then he turns to me, takes my hand and tells me how he doesn't want to take me home yet. I smile and let him lead me to a bench near the water.

 

     "This has been wonderful, Alice. I admit there are moments when I wonder if it's real, and I'm so glad it is." He's glowing. Why couldn't this have happened sooner?

     "I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this point," I say, staring at the fountain in front of us.

     He chuckles.

     "I'm not aiming for apologies here," he tells me, still smiling.

     "Hm? Then what ARE you aiming for?" I playfully ask as he scoots closer.

     "You keep distracting me."

     "I thought you said you like my distractions."

     "Oh, I do, but once again, I mean to say something then you make me lose my train of thought."

     I lean closer and whisper, "Then maybe you don't need to talk."

     He leans back, his hand reaching up to cup my face--to stop me. "You don't kiss on a first date, Alice."

     Instead of getting mad, I crack up laughing, even though my face doesn't move. "How old fashioned are you?"

     He shrugs. "Moderately, but I'm not going to kiss you. I have to find SOME way to leave you wanting." He pulls his hand away, but I'm not giving up.
 

     "Is that your game?"

     A little too serious, he replies, "I'm not playing games."

     Dammit! My face falls. "I know. I was just..." I can't explain it.

     He smiles kindly and takes my hand, and we start walking back to my house, not speaking.

     What did I do wrong? I'm not playing games, either. I was just kidding around. I grow into a full pout by the time we reach my front porch.

     The babysitter has the television going in the living room, and I assume I'm just going to walk in there, pay her, and then go cry under my covers. But then Geoffrey stops me, trying to pull me into his arms.

     "Alice," he says in an attempt to get me to look up at him. Nope. Not gonna. If he doesn't want to kiss me, what's the point? "Alice, look at me." He tries to pull my arm around him. I resist that too.

     "No." I stubbornly focus my gaze on the handkerchief thing in his coat.

     "What did I do?" He sounds like he really has no idea why I'm acting like this.

     I close my eyes and take a deep breath in order to keep myself from screaming and punching his chest. "I'm not playing games, either."

     He lets out a long exhale like he's thinking, 'well, shit.'

 

     "I know that. I wasn't saying you are." He holds my chin, but I won't budge. He lets out a huff. "I just wanted to make my position clear. We kid around so much, and I love it. I do, but I want you to know I'm NOT kidding around now."

     Nope. Still mad. "Fine. You're not kidding around. Got it. Good night, Geoffrey." I move to leave him standing alone on the porch.

     "No." He struggles. I try once again to get to my front door. "Alice." His arms hold me tighter. "Wait." Dammit, why does he have to be stronger?

     "If you're not going to kiss me, what's the point of the whole front porch thing?" I glare at him as he holds my head.

     He wraps his other arm more securely around me. "The point is I'm not letting go of you yet. Just LISTEN to me, Alice." We're so close, and he knows it. His breathing picks up speed, and I can feel every expanding and contracting of his chest against my own. All I'd have to do would be to lean in a few inches, and I've got him. But I want it to come from him.

     "I'm listening," I tell him quietly as I watch him fight himself, his eyes remaining closed.

     The hand on my head switches from squeezing a fist around my hair to running his fingers through it. "I'd always imagined this differently, not as a result of a spat."

      I reach my left hand up and lightly run a nail down his cheek. "Then how did you imagine it?"

      "Lots of examples: in front of a fireplace, moonlight, stars, and so on."

      "Sounds romantic." I keep tracing his cheekbone.

      His eyes still closed, he smiles. "It was! I can be really good at that if given the chance."

      "I believe you," I say, and he opens his eyes.

      "Alice..." But he doesn't let himself finish.

     I can't believe I actually jump in surprise, but that doesn't stop him. No, now that he's started, he's not letting go, and even though there's a desperate determination in the way he kisses me, it's also unhurried, slow, letting us feel every bit of the other's lips. Every once in a while, he pulls back only to take a breath and kiss me again. He never once uses his tongue, even though I do my best to tempt him. The message is clear: simple, keep it simple. But I know so much more boils underneath the surface.

     He pulls back again and rests his forehead against mine, his hand holding mine. Even though it was so simple, that was probably the best kiss of my life, in this world and the real one.

     "I love you, Alice Dyer." He says it so simply, as if that's his typical way to exhale.

     I want to reply in kind, but I also don't want to sully his moment. He's worked hard enough for it, after all.

     He's not done. "I love you so much. You are the most precious person in my life, and I can finally tell you. I love you. I've never been more certain of anything. I want us to be together. Always." He wipes a tear away I didn't even feel I shed.

     I lean down and kiss his fingers, and he takes his turn to be surprised. The hand on my face flies off, doing I don't know what at his side. So I kiss him again, and his breathing gets shaky. Bet no one's ever done this to HIM. I kiss him again, thinking that's probably what has him so shocked. It's usually the other way around. I dart out my tongue on one of his knuckles, and he quickly pulls our hands away.

     We stand here and stare into each other's eyes. It's time for me to tell him.

     "Don't say it," he quickly interjects.

     I scowl. "Why not?" Why the hell would he stop me?

     "Suffice to say that I know."

     "Geoffrey, that's not fair." I try to understand, but I can barely grasp why he would stop me.

     A tiny smile shows up. "No, it's not."

     He holds my face, his thumb stroking my cheek, and he whispers, "Just let me be the one today."

     I give him a small nod. "Would you like to come inside?"

     There's a slight pause before he replies, "Yes." But then he stops me from moving to the door. "But I won't." He smirks. "I wasn't even supposed to kiss you, Alice."

     "I'm glad you did."

     He looks at my lips. "Me too." He kisses me again quickly, pulling back before I have a decent chance to respond. "Good night, Alice." He kisses my hand, smiling like he's thinking that's all he was 'supposed' to do.

     "Good night." I watch him walk down the stairs before I turn to go inside and pay the babysitter.

Alicekai'd 1.24: Brave For About Two Seconds

 

 

     Geoffrey has a seat nearest to the door, making it so I have to pass by him on my way to sitting down.

 

     "Thank you for coming over." I'm so jittery!

     "You said that already," he states flatly.

     "I know. I just am grateful."

     "Well, I AM still your friend, Alice." Is he testing me?

     Shit. This won't be easy. "I just... I don't know." I have a seat.

     "First of all, you asked about Mark. No, he won't be showing up because he walked out," I tell him.

     "He what?" His voice stresses the 'what.' "He walked out on you?"

     "Um, well, I don't blame him." I pause. "It's... complicated." Dammit. I hate it when people say that, and I've said it too much recently.

     "What happened?" He's in friend mode.

     "I don't wanna talk about it."

     His body turns toward me. "Alice, that's what I'm here for. Why don't you want to talk about it?"

     "It's personal." I watch his expression as his face turns to a scowl. "Okay, fine. We had a fight. About woohoo."

     He swallows hard. "Okay?" His eyes roam my face, probably looking for more info. "What happened?" he finally asks.

     I let out a long exhale and wilt. Then, in a small voice, I say, "I didn't want to talk about this." Damn, it's hard to lead a conversation to a certain point when one is nervous about said point in the first place. So this is how Geoffrey felt all those times. I take a breath. "He was upset I didn't really want to anymore since Carlie was born."

    I watch him close his eyes and keep them closed. I ask quietly, "What are you thinking about?"

    He takes a breath. "I'm trying to decide how to go forward. Why don't you... jump to the next topic?"

    "Uh, well, they ARE kinda connected."
 

     "Then what?" He really, really looks like he doesn't want to talk about this and is regretting he asked. He looks a little past me, out to the horizon.

     "Um..." I try to come up with a better way to phrase it than just saying it, but I can't. "Well, he kept asking me why, and the argument went around and around until I told him I'm not in love with him." 

     His eyes move back to me. "And then he left."

     "Yeah. I think I... really hurt him."

      He sorta looks nauseated. "Are you wanting to get back together with him?"

     "No," I answer succinctly. Then I wait. See it. C'mon, see it! Guess. Just guess, dammit. 

     He tears his eyes away from mine. "What about Carlie? I thought you two were going to stay together for her."

     I need a light bulb over my head to go 'ding!' "Is that what you meant? When you said I was trying to do the right thing?"

     "Yes. What else could I have meant?"

     "I didn't really know at the time. You said a bunch of stuff all in a rush."

     He sighs and leans to rest his arm on his knee, still not looking at me.

     "Well, then, I'll explain myself," he says, his mind far away from this moment. "I foolishly thought I could try again. Then I found out he was living there. I almost gave up then, but I stubbornly kept going, altering the plan. When I asked if you'd read the letter, you responded that you did but reminded me that it was written before we found out Carlie was on the way. Yeah, that told me that you thought all of it was null and void because there was more to the equation." He sighs. "I'm sorry for being an idiot."

     I try to really listen to him, but my mind gets stuck on 'try again.' That IS what he was there for!

     And I drove him away.

     "I don't want to be with... him." Geoffrey please! Try again right now! 

     "It's what you should do. Kids do better when parents stay together." 

     "I'm calling bullshit," I tell him.

     He decides to defend his stance. "No, it's been studied time and again."

     "Even if it means one or both parents are miserable?" I breathe faster. "How is THAT better?"

     "You don't HAVE to be miserable, you know. The two of you could work things out. Relationships take work. Marriage takes effort and dedication."

     I laugh in a kind of wicked way. "Marriage? No way would I marry him!"

 

     He's not happy I laughed. "Then what were you planning on doing if not marriage?"

     "Co-parenting... with benefits."

     "Well, I could've told you that would fail utterly." He glares at me.

     "Looks like you're right." Please stop glaring at me. "Geoff, please don't look at me like that. You look like you're wondering if you even know me at all. Trust me, you do, okay? You've been right about everything, even though the truth was something I didn't want to face."

     "Tell me what 'truths' exactly."

     "That the best relationships start as friends and that just jumping into bed together is a really, really bad idea. That I need to see I'm worth more than that. That I need to slow down." I watch his expression soften, and that knot that had been forming in my stomach loosens a bit. "It hurt to hear those things because I KNEW you were right, but I didn't want to listen."

     "I never said any of that in an effort to hurt you. I could not, however, let them go unsaid." He's FINALLY looking at me like he's picking up on what I'm also not saying. 

     I could burst into tears right now. Stupid hormones. "I know."

     "Because the last thing I'd EVER want to do is hurt you."

     Yep. I'm gonna cry. But then suddenly, his stomach growls, totally breaking the intensity of the moment.

     He looks up. "Oh, gee, thanks, stomach! You just couldn't stay quiet, could you?"

     I'm giggling as I say, "C'mon inside. I wanna show you I can cook eggs now." I jump up, and for a moment, he looks like he wants to stop me. But then he just shakes his head and smiles.

     "Okay." He follows me into the house.

     I give him a quick tour then get started cooking. He excuses himself to visit the restroom for a minute, and he finds me easily in the kitchen.

 

     "Well they SMELL good," he comments as he walks in.

     I smile. This is so nice! Geoffrey doesn't hate me, and he's here in my house. I'm cooking, and it's not turning into cement. It's almost perfect. "Just you wait, I'm gonna knock your socks off."

     He chuckles then has a seat at the table. The eggs don't take too long to finish, and I get us both a plate.

     He takes a bite.

     Then he just sits there with his eyes closed, slowly chewing.

     "Well?" I'm dying here. "Are they okay? I mean, they've gotta be better than the last time... the last time when you didn't eat any."

     "Holy cow," he says after the swallows. His eyes open. "How is this just eggs and toast? What did you do? This is incredible."

     Yay! I grin. "Trade secret." I eat some of the delicious eggs.

     He watches me with narrowed eyes, but playful. "I'm GOING to find out."

     I shrug and continue eating. Go for it.
     We eat in happy harmony, and after I wash the dishes, he gets up.

     Looking at the floor, he says, "I don't want to, but I have to go."

     "Oh." Well, crap. I never got around to telling him how I feel. He's right (of course); you can't just come out and say it when it's this deep.

     He continues, "If you're free tomorrow night, we could go to dinner, maybe, and continue our conversation then."

      I get brave for about two seconds. "You mean like a date?"

      "Well... yeah."

 

     "I'd like that," I reply, and he finally looks up and smiles.