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:Over and Out:
Author's Note - Another one shot, meaning that no more is coming after this. Hope you enjoy it. A longer piece will be coming in a few weeks, maybe in January? I want to finish it before I start posting it.
“Yeah, Bullfrog, I read you, over,” I replied, unable to keep myself from grinning.
“Can you get over here and help me with this box?” he asked, his voice still crackly through the intercom system.
“Oh, does poor Bullfrog need a big, strong man to help him?” I replied as I started walking towards the other half of the storeroom where he was.
“You know what, shut up. Just get your ass over here and help me,” he told me. I shoved the walkie-talkie back into the pocket of my pants and continued walking in the direction I knew him to be. “Bullfrog” was the nickname of Joshua Harrell, the only other night-shift guy that worked at “U-Fix-It”, the home improvement store that had been the only place to hire me. We spent our nights moving boxes around, unpacking things and stocking the shelves. It sucked, but it was money, and I needed it.
“Bullfrog” was called such because of his voice, which was kind of croaky, and the green tips he had in his dirty brown hair. I was “Spanky” because, well, he hadn’t told me that, and I hadn’t bothered to ask. From what I did know about him, was that he was twenty, only half a year younger than me, he was 5’5” (kind of short, actually, and I was four inches taller) and, though skinny, could lift things pretty good, and he packed a punch, that was for sure.
“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, when I’d finally shown up. He had the sleeves of his green “U-fix-it” shirt rolled up, and he looked kind of sweaty. I ignored the way that made me feel in my stomach, and glanced over at what he’d been trying to do. The box wasn’t that big, but when I went to grab part of it, I realized how heavy it was.
“I told you,” Joshua said, giving me a look. I ignored that, and waited for him to grab the other half so that we could move it. After we’d put it where it had to go, I leaned on one of the boxes for a minute to catch my breath. Once again, I had to ignore the way Joshua’s shirt rode up his stomach a little bit when he stretched. For a skinny guy, his abs were pretty well defined. I wondered if he worked out, but didn’t ask.
“I fucking hate this job,” Joshua said, pushing his hair back with his hands. He had been sweating a little bit, and his hair kind of spiked up when he did that. Even in the dim lighting, I could see his blue eyes shining, and I wished that I couldn’t.
“Then just quit,” I told him, even though I knew how he felt, because I was here for the same reason he was. College was fucking expensive, and there weren’t a lot of work options in this town. My earliest class started at noon, and most of them didn’t get out until six or seven. I was stuck working the over night shifts, and I hardly got any sleep most days. It wasn’t the work that sucked so much, but the hours, and the way it fucked up my schedule. Part of me wanted to drop out of college and find a better job. I didn’t plan on getting married or having kids, so I didn’t see what the point in college was. I wanted to say all of this while I was standing there with Joshua, but I knew he didn’t care. We didn’t really know each other anyway, except through work, and that didn’t count for anything, especially not enough for me to be feeling this way whenever I looked at him or talked to him or thought about him.
“I’m gonna go stock those new paints. If you need any more help, let me know,” I told him, before pushing myself off the boxes. He nodded and I went back to work. I glanced at my watch, and sighed. Only five more hours of this shit left.
I stacked and sorted paint cans for what seemed like days, but was really only three hours, before I heard from Joshua again.
“Spanky, it’s Bullfrog, do you read?” the intercom said in his voice.
“What?” I asked, without bothering with the “over” stuff. I was too tired to fool around right now, and I still had a paper to write for Soc that I hadn’t even started.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee and some breakfast after work,” he said. I paused, because ‘grabbing a coffee after work’ sounded like ‘a date’ to me. And I wasn’t sure what I thought of that.
“Howie, are you there?” he asked. He was using my real name. He never called me Howie, not since the first day we’d worked together. Oh God, I felt like I was going to start hyperventilating or something. Please don’t let me faint, please don’t let me get nervous.
“I’m here,” I answered tentatively.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked again. I had to answer, didn’t I? I took a deep breath and then pushed it out.
“I, uh, I’d like that,” I said, “but I have a paper I need to write for class and it’s due for my noon class, and I haven’t even started it,” I told him. I was being completely honest with him, but I still felt guilty.
“Oh, that’s cool,” he replied, “maybe some other time then.” But the way he said it, I knew he wasn’t going to ask again, and that I’d just missed my one chance to see if something could happen between us.
“You asshole,” I said aloud to myself. But even so, I didn’t click the walkie-talkie back on and tell him I’d changed my mind. I could, but I didn’t. I was being a coward, and I knew it. I decided to stop mentally beating myself up and went back to work.
Two hours later, the morning shift guys showed up, and it was time for Joshua and me to punch out. He was standing at the time clock, writing something on a piece of paper that was on the desk, and didn’t see me until I walked up.
“Hey,” I said, but he didn’t reply, “Look, I,” but he wouldn’t let me finish.
“You don’t have to say anything, okay. I get it,” he said, capping the pen he’d been writing with. He picked up his jacket from the corner of the desk and looked at me before he walked past me and out the door.
I didn’t see Joshua at work for two weeks, and I started to think maybe he wasn’t working there anymore. One day, after my shift, I looked in the schedule book under Joshua’s name, and saw that it said “No longer works here” written across the week where his schedule would have been. He’d quit? And he didn’t go to school, and I had no idea where he lived. I would never see him again! I’d missed my chance, and I was mentally kicking myself all the way out to my car.
When I got up after a restless six hours of not much sleep, I remembered that I had to do my grocery shopping that day. I grumbled and showered, wishing I could sleep for the rest of the day. I knew it wouldn’t be any easier than it had been last night, what with thoughts of Joshua and half-dreams floating around, making me nervous and guilty and angry with myself. I got dressed and took the grocery list off the fridge and grabbed my wallet as I left the house.
The store was pretty empty when I got there, but it was a weekday, and it was only 10 in the morning, so I hadn’t expected a lot of people to be there. I got my shopping done pretty quickly, since I really didn’t need a whole bunch of stuff, seeing as how it was just me in the house anyway.
Only one register was open, but there wasn’t a line, so I went in there and started unloading my things onto the belt.
“Hello, how are you today? Did you find everything you were looking for?” the voice at the register sounded bored and also familiar. I looked up in the middle of putting my ramen noodles on the conveyer belt and saw Joshua standing there in a blue polo shirt with his nametag clipped to it.
“You work here now?” I asked, and he looked at me, eyes widening.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, not even answering my question.
“Shopping,” I said, gesturing to the food he was ringing through.
“Oh, right.” He sounded embarrassed. Some girl walked up and started bagging the groceries he’d rung through. She looked bored as well.
“How come you quit?” I asked him. I pushed my cart through so that the girl could put the groceries into it. He looked down at what he was doing.
“I didn’t like working nights,” he mumbled.
“Not even with Spanky?” I asked, giving him my most winning grin. It didn’t work, because he didn’t even look up. The girl, ‘Tiffany’, according to her name tag, giggled, and Joshua glared at her.
“Look, this isn’t really the time to talk about that,” he said, still not looking at me.
“Well, when is? I don’t have any classes today. Maybe we could get together on your lunch break or something?” I asked, hopeful.
“Sorry I can’t do that,” he said, “I’m busy. I have a paper to write or some lame excuse. Take your pick,” he said bitterly. Okay, I guess that was my fault.
“I really did have a paper to write! I’m sorry, okay. Can’t I make it up to you?” I was practically begging now, but I really did want to make it up to him.
“That will be fifty-six thirty-five,” he said, and I handed him the cash. He didn’t answer me as he punched numbers into the cash register and counted out my change.
“Just drop it, okay?” Joshua handed me my receipt and my change and refused to look at me. I guess that was that, then.
“Do you need help bringing those out to your car?” Tiffany asked, giving me a wide grin.
“I think he can do it himself,” Joshua grumbled. Tiffany came over and took the handle of the car.
“Let me help you,” she said. I rolled my eyes, but let her help me out to the car. Once we were out the doors of the store, she let me push the cart, but kept walking with me to the car.
“Joshua’s lunch break is in about fifteen minutes,” she said, “he usually eats in the food court.” She started helping me load the groceries into the trunk of my car.
“Um, thanks,” I said, confused as to why she was telling me this.
“No problem.” She patted me on the arm and then skipped – yes, you read that correctly, skipped – back into the store. Well, I guess I would be waiting for Joshua’s break then.
“Oh my god, are you KIDDING me?” Tiffany exclaimed when she came back into the store.
“What did you say to him?” I asked her, suspicious.
“You idiot!” she exclaimed, slapping me on the arm several times. See, this is why I didn’t like girls very much. What’s with the slapping thing, huh? And the squealing, what does squealing accomplish?
“Shut up Tiffany,” I said, not even looking at her. I kind of hoped a customer would come through and she’d be forced to shut up, but no such luck.
“But he’s fucking hot! He wants to go to lunch with you!” she exclaimed, like I hadn’t noticed or something. It’s kind of hard not to notice Howie, who is taller than me and totally muscular and strong and looks like he probably works out all the time or something. You couldn’t really ask for more than brown hair that was just a little long, scruffy face, like he forgot to shave that morning, and his eyes – oh, God, those eyes. I couldn’t even thing about him without thinking about smooth brown eyes, like coffee or something. Those were eyes that could inspire poetry, if I could ever do that kind of stuff.
“He just feels guilty. He doesn’t actually want to go to lunch with me,” I replied to Tiffany. She made an indignant noise that I didn’t bother to interpret.
“What’s ‘Spanky’?” she asked, “you used to work with him? Where?” Now she would never shut up. Why had he even come, anyway? Tiffany was never going to shut up about it, and it was going to take me even longer to get over him.
“Shut up Tiffany,” I repeated. She shoved my arm again.
“Come on, Josh, tell me.” She tried to use her puppy-dog look on me, but that look only works with puppy-dogs, not twenty year old girls.
“I worked with Howie at U-Fix-It and I call him Spanky because it’s the only nickname I could come up with, and he calls me Bullfrog, and I am trying to get over the gigantic crush I had on him,” I told her. There, maybe now she would shut up and leave me alone. I just wanted to go home and sleep. And not think about Howie. Because he didn’t look good in that black t-shirt he was wearing or anything.
“But Josh,” she said, whining my name, “he likes you!” she exclaimed, “he was like, staring at you. And did you see the look on his face when he left? He was like a little baby who had his binky taken away. He wants you,” she told me matter-of-factly. Yeah, right. Howie liked me. And I was going to win the lottery tomorrow.
“He doesn’t want me.” This conversation was going nowhere, and I really didn’t want to continue it. I looked at my watch. I was due for my lunch break soon. My supervisor was a young punk teenager, who was currently flirting with the girl at the service desk. He didn’t seem to get the thoughts I was sending him. Hey asshole, Greg it’s time for my break. Get your ass over here and let me leave.
“You’re so annoying,” Tiffany said, as though this were something new. I was the annoying one?
“Have you listened to yourself recently? I’m annoying?” I asked her. She shrugged and attempted an innocent look.
“I’m not annoying, I’m cute. You, on the other hand…” she said, and I wished there wasn’t that stupid “rule” about not hitting girls. I mean, she hit me, right? I glanced over at Greg, who was still flirting.
“Look, go ahead and have your lunch break. I’ll open my register,” Tiffany said, turning the light on my register off.
“Are you sure?” I asked. I really didn’t want to get in trouble for leaving my post or whatever. Tiffany nodded.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, “just go!” I rolled my eyes at her, but if she was letting me leave, I was going to do it. I punched out to lunch and went over to the food court. The food wasn’t that great, but it was better than something I would make at home. I bought a piece of pizza and sat down in an empty booth. Actually, all the booths were empty, so I guess my choices weren’t that limited.
“Is this seat taken?” I looked up to see Howie standing right there, looking awkward and cautious and definitely adorable.
“That’s so cliché,” I told him, “I mean, what is this, a movie? And why do people even say that? I mean, if no one is sitting there, it’s probably not taken.”
“Okay, well let me rephrase that,” he said, “Can I sit here?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. Howie sat.
“Why’d you even ask if you were just going to sit down anyway?” I asked him. He shrugged.
“I get that you’re mad at me,” he said, “and I can see why. I mean, I brushed you off and everything. But you have to believe me when I tell you that I didn’t think it was going to bother you that much.” Was he kidding? He didn’t think it would bother me that he had to make some stupid excuse about why we couldn’t go get coffee together? What the hell was he, stupid?
“For fuck’s sake, Howie, it was just coffee. It wasn’t like I was asking you to marry me or anything. I don’t know why you had to go all ‘my dog ate it’. You could’ve just said that you didn’t want to go,” I said.
“But I did want to go!” he exclaimed, “and I was almost going to blow off the paper to go with you. But I didn’t, and I guess I made the wrong decision. Why won’t you let me make it up to you?” he asked. I looked down at my pizza. I really was hungry, but I found I couldn’t really eat with Howie right there, practically begging for my forgiveness. It made me feel weird, that it meant that much to him.
“Well…” I began, not sure why I was even doing this, “I guess you could,” I conceded. I was afraid to look up at his face.
“You really mean it, Joshua?” he asked, and when he said my name, I felt like I was going to explode or something.
“Yes, as long as you promise not to come back here when I’m working just to bother me,” I said, finally looking up. Howie was smiling and it made me smile back.
“Okay, well can I take you out on Saturday morning?” he asked. That soon? I thought, I’m going to have to go out and get new clothes! I don’t have anything to wear!
“I guess that would be okay. Like, eight o’clock?” I asked. He nodded.
“That would work.” And so, it seemed that was that.
I bit my lip and wished that I had someone whose opinion I could ask about these things. I sighed to myself and decided on a plain pair of jeans with a blue and green tie-dyed t-shirt. Then, because the outfit looked boring by itself, I also added a hemp choker. After I was satisfied that the outfit I chose would be all right, I finally let myself climb into bed, my alarm set for six the next morning.
I don't think I actually slept very well, but when my alarm went off, I wasn't tired. In fact, I felt really energized, albeit nervous. I showered and dressed and was ready to go by seven, which left me an hour to sit around nervously and think of all the ways that this could go wrong. He might not show up. I might spill something on my shirt and make a mess. I might say something stupid and he wouldn't want to talk to me anymore.
Then a knock at my front door quelled at least one of my fears. I opened the door and looked at Howie, and felt underdressed. It wasn't that he was dressed up or anything, just a pair of green cargo pants, a black tank top, and a green army-style jacket over that, but he looked good. I just looked … sloppy.
"Maybe I should go, uh, change," I said, nervously. Howie gave me the once-over and then smiled. Oh, that smile was so destructive to me!
"Nah, you look fine," he said, "let's go." I sighed but followed him out of the house (being very careful to lock the door behind me) and into his car. It definitely felt weird for me to be getting into the passenger seat, but I tried not to think about it. My wallet was in my back pocket, because I knew that I would feel weird if he was paying for everything.
"I hope you like pancakes," Howie said, after he'd started the car and pulled out of the driveway. I shrugged, because I didn't have a very strong opinion on pancakes either way. I hadn't eaten them since I was like, twelve, which was a considerably long time ago. My breakfast was usually a Pop Tart or a piece of toast – if I even ate it.
"Is that a yes or a no?" he asked, "If you don't like pancakes we can go somewhere else." He glanced sideways at me, still keeping an eye on the road at the same time.
"No, pancakes are fine," I said, because I didn’t want him to have to change his plans or anything. Besides, I think I would probably eat something I didn't like, even if it was just because Howie was there eating it with me.
After that, it was relatively quiet, except for the hum of the engine, and the very soft sound of the radio playing – though it was so soft that I could not hear the song, only that something was playing. I fiddled with my hands in my lap, and tried to think of something interesting to say. It was definitely easier to talk to him when we were working together, and there were all those boxes around us … and when he didn't know about the enormous crush that I had on him. He apparently returned my crush, and that was the reason for this date, but I still couldn't believe him.
Luckily the ride wasn't very long, and when we parked, I recognized the restaurant. It was Pat's Pancake House, a locally owned breakfast diner. I had not been there before, so it was a new experience, along with the new experience of the date with Howie. When we got out of the car, he smiled at me and then gestured for me to go first into the building. I went, but looked around at the same time, seeing how many other cars were parked there. There was only one other car besides Howie's, which I took to be a good thing, because crowds weren't good, especially not on a date.
When I pushed the door open, the smell of freshly made pancakes and maple syrup reached my nose. I stepped all the way into the doorway and Howie came in behind me, resting a hand on my arm for just a second. I looked around. In front of us, there was a desk with a cash register, and a woman standing there. She looked like my mother, short and fat, with curly, bright red hair. She was wearing a teal waitress-style dress and a pair of black cat-eye glasses, like she came right out of a movie or something. To my left were the tables, five round ones, that probably could seat four people at most, as well as two square tables in the back corners for larger groups.
An older couple, a man and a woman, sat at one of the round tables by the window. They had plates of pancakes in front of them, but were too busy holding hands and staring romantically at each other to concentrate on eating.
"Howie, haven't seen you in a while!" the woman at the desk came over to us, holding two menus and looking at Howie. Her nametag read "Liz" (and I had half been expecting something like "Fran" or "Marge").
"I've been working," Howie said. Liz smiled and looked at me.
"Who's your friend?" she asked, giving me the once-over, though her eyes didn't give me the same shiver that Howie's did.
"This is Joshua, also known as Bullfrog," he said, grinning at me. I felt myself blushing, feeling more like "tomato" than a bullfrog. Liz just smiled.
"Well have a seat, boys, and I'll bring some coffee over," she said, passing a menu to each of us. Howie gestured and we walked over to a table on the opposite side from where the old couple was sitting. Howie even pulled my seat out for me and waited for me to sit down before he sat down himself.
I opened the menu and looked at what there was available. Pancakes, cooked several different ways, flavors, sizes. There were waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage, and all sorts of breakfast options - none of which were Pop Tarts.
"What are you going to have?" Howie asked me. I looked over the top of my menu to find him staring at me. His menu was sitting, folded, on the table.
"I don't know," I said, "probably just regular pancakes." I shrugged and looked back down at the menu.
"That's a good choice," he said, "do you want some hot chocolate? It's really good, with lots of whipped cream."
"Okay," I said, because I didn't really care what I was eating. When Liz came back over, Howie ordered for us, checking with me to make sure he got it right. Liz gave him a knowing look, and I wondered what she knew, exactly. I didn't ask, just looked down at the cup of coffee on the table, and then up at Howie when he said my name.
"Are you nervous?" he asked me, leaning on his elbows on the table. He lowered his voice a little bit, but it didn't matter anyway, because there was no one there to make noise over us.
"Should I be?" I asked. I found myself wishing that he would lean across the table the rest of the way and kiss me. Then I realized that I could do the same thing, but I didn't have the guts, as much as I wanted to.
"No," he said, "at least, I don't think there is any reason for you to be." There was a pause, when we both looked at each other, and it was like magic or something cheesy ... until the older woman laughed at something her husband had said, and I found myself blushing and staring down at the table instead of at Howie.
When the food came, we didn't talk very much while we ate, and I tried to think of things to say, but I couldn't come up with anything that didn't sound stupid. So I just ate my pancakes (which were really good) and snuck glances at Howie (who, more often than not, was sneaking glances back at me, which just made me blush and look down at the table).
And then when we were done, Liz brought over the check, which Howie took before I could even look at it. I took out my wallet anyway, because I'd seen in the menu how much my meal cost, and I started counting out money to pay.
"Don't worry about it," Howie said, "what good is a date if you pay for your own food?" he asked, smiling at me. I hesitated for a minute, and then put my money away.
"Well it doesn't seem fair," I told him as I put my wallet away.
"I guess you'll just have to take me out next time so you can pay," he said with a grin. I was trying to take you out before, and you said no, I thought, but did not voice this out loud. I smiled back, though, because I liked the idea of another date, even if nothing much had happened on this one.
We left the restaurant and Howie drove me home, with another somewhat awkwardly silent car ride. I wished that I could find something interesting to say to him, to make up for the silence, but all that I wanted to say to him was about how much I wished he would kiss me already.
When we got to my house, I didn't want to get out of the car. But I did, and Howie got out of his seat, too. Was he going to walk me in or something? It seemed that was what he was going to do, and he walked me all the way to the door of my house, and we stood there in front of the door, because if I went in, that would mean I'd have to go and face the fact that I had cleaning to do, but if I stayed out here, I could linger on the date with Howie for just a little bit longer.
"So, uh, I was wondering," Howie said, and I looked up at him, and his voice got lower, "can I kiss you?" I watched his eyes flick to my mouth, and I felt a stirring in my stomach (and maybe a little lower).
"That would be nice," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He gave me a slow grin and leaned closer. My eyes fluttered closed, and I waited in darkness. But I didn't have to wait long before his warm hands were on either side of my face, and his mouth was covering mine. And I didn't care that we were standing there on my front stoop, my back pressed against the door, kissing for all the neighbors and anyone who walked by to see.
Because kissing Howie was perfect and right and everything I had ever dreamed of. We only stopped when a car horn honked loudly. Howie pulled back and grinned at me.
"I guess I'll see you later," he said, "over and out!" he added. I couldn't help grinning at that.
"Yeah," I replied, and watched him walk back to his car before I opened my front door. I wondered if I could get my job at U-Fix-It back. It would definitely be more fun from now on.