I’ve been lying down in bed since eight. Yes, eight at night, and I’m only twenty years old. I realize that I have no life.

I’m drifting off to sleep when I hear the strum of a guitar, and I instantly awaken. These walls are paper thin, and it’s more like a liquid barrier than an actual wall. I reach over and grab my phone to see what time it is. It’s only nine. It feels like I have been lying here for more than an hour.

Besides the slight muffle of the guitar that the wall traps, it sounds perfect. I pull the sheets back, step out of bed and walk to the wall to sit with my back against it. I press my head to the wall and get a better listen.

The barrier echoes a slight vibration that penetrates my bones all the way to the marrow. After about ten minutes, Nico stops playing.

I stand up and walk back to the side table and reach for my phone. After a quick debate with myself, I scroll through the names, until I get to Nico. I added his name back after I saw him the first day here.

 

Me: Play a song for me

I think maybe he didn’t hear the text, or maybe he chooses to ignore it, but then he does. He plays the same song that he first played for me way back at my house. I feel now the same way I did then; the same way I have always felt. I never once told him those three simple yet not easy words. I said them in my head endless times but never aloud.

When he’s finished playing, he sends me a text, and the beep yanks me from my trance.

Nico: Any more requests this evening?

I don’t even change out of my pajamas. Slipping on a pair of flats, I leave my apartment. When I reach his door, I knock, and he answers in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with his hair rumpled.

“I prefer to listen without the wall. If that’s okay?” Please don’t slam the door in my face, but I don’t believe he will.

Nico gives me a soft smile. “It’s more than okay.” He holds the door open for me, and I walk into his apartment.

I look around his living room, and it’s nice. Inside, there are two brown recliners and a green couch. Not the modern recliners that are stiff, but the super comfortable ones that are big and feel like you’re melting into a perfectly shaped cloud.

I have to sit in one immediately. I dive right into it, and it feels like heaven. I kick the chair back and breathe deeply. “Sorry, Nico. I had to. You don’t understand. All I have is a futon!”

He chuckles and walks over and sits in the other one. “You can take one with you if you want.”

I give him a big grin. “I might have to take you up on that offer. I’m not saying that either, I will most likely confiscate this chair for myself.”

His TV is huge, and he has a large case filled with hundreds of movies. “I might have to take most of those, too.” I point.

“Nope. I have my limit with that one.”

Closing the chair, I twist it side to side. Okay, not only is it the most comfortable recliner that I have ever sat in, but it spins. You can’t get much better than that.

“Did you just get home from work?” I stop spinning.

“No. After I got off work, I went to my parents’ for dinner. Mom made stew. There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want some.” He nods in the direction of the fridge.

“I’m going to take you up on that offer.” Charlotte’s cooking is amazing, and her food brings all my taste buds to life.

“I spent most of the day training John.”

My eyes widen. “Are we talking about John-John?”

He laughs. “Yes, you were way off with him. He’s still there, and he’s training for the manager position.”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe this. I feel so bad.” I shouldn’t have been so judgmental about him, but I seriously thought he wouldn’t last past a week, and then I thought for sure he would be gone before a year. It’s nice to be proven wrong about people.

“Nah, don’t worry. I was with you in that same boat.”

I stand up out of the chair not sure which direction to go in. “Where do we go, so I can listen to the rest of the jam session?”

He shakes his head. “This way.” I follow him to the bedroom on the right. “There’s not much going on in here right now because I only moved a few things in here after Lanie left.”

I don’t even get jealous when he mentions Lanie. Okay, I’m lying, maybe a smidge jealous.

I walk to where a guitar rests on a chair, and I sit down on the floor in front of it. He offers me the chair, but I let him have it, so he can sit and play. He strums a couple of songs for me, and then we sit and talk for a long while about nothing, but it’s everything.

I pull out my phone to look at the time, and it’s already close to eleven. “I better go. Otherwise, I won’t be able to wake up in the morning. Anytime I stay up past ten and have to wake up early, I’m tired no matter what.”

He stands up out of the chair to lead me from the bedroom and then turns back around. “Oh, I forgot to ask you. Violet is having this show tomorrow if you want to go.”

I stand up from the carpet. “Isn’t Violet in New York?”

“Yeah, but she wanted to do a hometown show with a lot of her artwork. It’s going to be at the museum tomorrow night.”

I’m proud and amazed by this. “Like her own private show there?”

He rolls his eyes. “You should see how excited she is about it. It’s more cockiness really.”

“I’ll go. What time is it?”

He chews on the side of his lip and thinks about it. “I think it’s at seven. I’ll double check with her on that. You can ride with me, so you don’t have to waste gas driving out there.”

I shrug my shoulders. “That works. Now that that’s settled, onto more important matters. I’m going to have to take that stew.”

Nico strolls to the fridge, pulling out the container and hands me his precious stew, which I gladly accept. He walks me out even with my apartment being right next door. We stand there for a while. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Should I hug him or something? I want to, but maybe it’s way too soon for hugs for him.

“See you tomorrow, May.”

I tell him bye and head inside. The first thing I do is stick the food in the fridge, right in front on the top shelf, so I won’t forget it for work tomorrow.

I hop back into bed and get all nestled in, and then my phone goes off.

Nico: Goodnight

Me: Goodnight

 

***

When my alarm goes off, I feel like the dead have risen. I get ready and grab the stew which I almost forgot, but thank goodness at the last second, I remember. The memories from the night before come rushing back, and I smile to myself.

After I get to work, the first thing I do is stop by Mom’s office to catch up. “Guess what?”

Mom lifts her head and stops typing. “Hey, sweetheart. What you got going on?”

“Jessie is coming to town sometime next month,” I squeal.

Mom squeals along with me. “Aw, I’m going to see my second daughter. One of her first stops will be the house. Got it?”

I lean against the doorframe. “We’re also going to meet Henry in person, finally.”

Mom taps her index finger on her desk like she’s pounding a dent in it. “You better believe I’m going to have all sorts of questions for him.”

“I’ll let her know.” I leave Mom’s office and head to mine.

Me: Mom is going to grill Henry when you guys come into town.

Jessie: Lol! I’ll have him prepped for that.

At lunch, I eat in the breakroom with Mom. “What do you think about me going on a date with someone?”

I stop chewing my stew. “What are we talking about? Did someone ask you on a date, or did you ask someone on a date?”

Mom looks like she doesn’t want to have this conversation with me, but I’m fine if she wants to date someone else. It has been over three years.

“Eric asked me out on a date.”

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “Do I know this Eric? I don’t even know an Eric.”

She takes a sip of her drink and then sets it back down. “You know Eric. He lives down the street toward the end.”

I think hard about it, scanning the street in my mind. “Nope. I have no idea who this Eric is.”

She sighs. “Black truck; his wife Abbie passed away a little over a year ago.”

Wouldn’t I have remembered someone dying? Maybe she didn’t tell me this, or maybe because I have no idea who these people are, it must have gone in one ear and out the other. Mom knows the whole neighborhood. I only know Mrs. Jenkins.

“There are a lot of people with black vehicles, including me.”

“I’m going to ignore that remark. So, what do you think?” She stares at me waiting for me to give her an answer.

I think maybe she should do it if she wants to. “I say, do whatever you want to do. If you want to be independent, I’ll back you up. If you want to try going out with this guy, I won’t act like a bratty child. If he’s a jerk, that will be a whole different story.”

Mom purses her lips together silently debating. “I’m going to have to think about it.”

When she says that, we both know she’s going to end up saying yes.

The rest of work flies by, and all I can think about is tonight. I’m not only excited about going with Nico, but I can’t wait to see Violet.

It’s been a year since I last saw her, and it feels too long.

Me: What should I wear tonight?

Jessie: I can’t believe I don’t get to go to this show. Can’t you tell Violet to have it next month? Better yet, tell her to have another show when I come into town.

Me: I’ll let her know, but no promises. You know Violet.

Jessie: I’d say wear a dress, a really short dress.

Me: I’m going to pass on that, but I will do a skirt.

Searching through my closet, I sort through what I have. Most of my dresses and skirts look like clothes for work, which they are.

I pull out the black and white, pinstripe, pencil skirt that comes right above my knees, and a black short sleeve blouse. I pair that with my black and white Converse, so I don’t look like I’m going to a business interview. Finishing off my look, I add eyeshadow, mascara, and a clear lip gloss. I look at myself in the mirror and decide to leave my hair down.

My phone makes a beeping sound, and I check it.

 

Nico: The show does start at seven. I’ll come by at six-thirty. Does that work for you?

Me: Yes, that sounds good.

There’s a knock on my door around six-twenty. I open it, and Nico is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I probably should have worn jeans instead.

“Should I change into something else?” I ask as I pull at the bottom of my shirt.

He scans me up and down. “No, you look perfect. I’m probably going to be the one up there standing out. I don’t have time to go fancy myself up.”

I let out a laugh. I don’t know, he looks pretty good in his jeans and shirt. I grab my bag before we leave, and he walks me to his truck and opens the door for me. He hasn’t lost his gentleman ways.