“I, ah. I’m sorry. That was really embarrassing,” I said.What was I thinking? I need to get out of here before I expose myself even more.
“No. It wasn’t,” he replied.
12
WHO’S P. ANTOINE?
Taking Riley and the boys to Grandma’s for dinner. Where are you? Wanna come?my mom texted as Thad and I were changing in the locker room.
Went swimming. Go ahead, I’ll find something at home, I wrote.
I stood in front of my locker as Thad tied his shoes after I pulled out all of my belongings to take home. I didn’t want to chance the school doing a summer sweep and throwing my stuff away. He sat on the bench for a moment as I folded my suits and towels, then I tucked my goggles and ear plugs into one of the towels since my swim bag was sitting at home, under my bed. I threw everything together under my arm, then noticed that he was looking at me. He was still seated with his elbows resting on his knees.
“It’s okay you know. You don’t have to worry about it,” he said, noticing that I had been eerily mute since leaving the pool.
“I, uhm. I didn’t expect that to happen. I’m sorry for putting you in that position,” I stuttered.
I really was sorry. How awkward must it have been for him to see me lose my shit, then have to console me. In the cold pool. Skin to skin.
“So, uh. Do you still want to hang out? If that’s not too embarrassing.” He raised an eyebrow, a grin appearing on his mouth.
I don’t think I’ll ever meet a guy quite like this one.
“No one’s going to be home for a while. We can head to my place. I’ve got food.” I wasn’t sure how he’d take an invitation to my house, especially after what had happened in the pool only moments before.
“Will the famous Frankie be there?” he asked.
I nodded.
Thad parked two houses down from mine, which confused me since the street was mostly empty.Maybe he’s being cautious. I’d do the same.We entered through the side door and into the family room where my mom kept Frankie gated. We almost always put a gate up in the entrance to the rear living room before leaving so Frankie couldn’t get into things. We once thought he was dying because he had jumped on a kitchen chair, then onto the counter and ate an entire chocolate cake. I’ll never understand how his little body pulled through that.
I opened the gate to let Frankie out but was ambushed by Thad trying to get into the room. He threw himself onto the floor as he saw Frankie step out of his bed to stretch, his tail wagging profusely. My dog wiggled his long body toward Thad’s face.
“Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are,” Thad repeated after finding the squeaker he bought in Frankie’s bed.
Dogs will always bring out the kid in you.
“My parents won’t let us have a dog,” he said, pulling my dachshund onto his chest.
“I’ll go get us something to eat.”
He decided to remain on the floor with Frankie, so I went to the kitchen to find anything in the fridge to eat. My mom was one of those kinds of mothers who’d cringe at the thought of an empty fridge. She reminded me of my dad’s mom, who’d offer to make us sandwiches with every breath she took. I missed her. It had been a few years since we’d traveled abroad to visit my dad’s side. Sadly, only his eldest sister could fly over for the funeral.
Despite the fridge being full, there wasn’t anything prepared. I pulled out a serving plate, on which I placed rows of sliced tomatoes, sliced cucumber, some olives, sliced Arabic cheese, and a dollop of hummus my mom and I made. Then I pulled out pita so we could make sandwiches with what we wanted from the plate.
“I’m sorry there isn’t any meat. I’m vegetarian and my mom hides the meat. Her way of being considerate.” I laughed.
“It doesn’t matter to me. Vegetarian, eh?”
“Yeah. I watched this documentary and… Well, I’m not going to get into it.” I waved my hand after realizing that the details of the documentary might scare him as it did me. I still don’t eat meat even now as an adult.
“You didn’t need to go through the trouble.”
“It’s nothing.” I waved him off.
If there was one thing my father’s sisters taught me during my time spent abroad as a child, it’s that it was morally irresponsible to not try your hardest at being a perfect host while people were over. They even had immaculate sitting rooms in their houses, which you were forbidden from entering unless entertaining guests. I couldn’t count how many times I was yelled at for wandering around in the dark, trying to admire the impeccable handmade furniture in theirsalons, as they called them.
“This hummus is delicious. Where’s it from?” he asked.