It Ain't Everyday

“The lab gets cold at night,” I said, wrapping the girl with a quilted blanket. She had fallen asleep at the lab bench, again, and her brown hair was splayed out around her like sun-beams. Checking the wall clock, I sighed heavily. “Tess. It’s three in the morning! Why are you still here?”

“Mmm?” She moaned, smacking her lips and lifting her head slowly. “Who?” She sounded half-panicked, confused until she saw me, her big blue eyes meeting my soft green ones. “Oh. It’s just you.”

I took a spot at the bench next to her, crossing my arms and play-pouting, “Of course it's me, dumbass. Who else would it be? You didn't text me back, so I figured I’d stop by on my way home from work. It’d be a shame if you keeled over.” 

She stretched her arms upwards. I tore my eyes from her, trying to be polite but wishing I didn’t have to be. Tess and I had been friends for an awfully long time–an awfully long time–but I loved her. It’s that flat. Nothing over dramatic or enough to kill our friendship, but I couldn’t help but like her. She had become such a prominent member in the scientific community since she had earned her doctorate in some weird, obscure field of biology that I barely understood, and I had never been so proud of someone. Smart, charming, and straight-forward . . . the whole package–at least to me. When she started her doctorate, I moved to California at her request, trying to bring a little part of home with her. There had been times we could’ve dated before, sure, but the time was never right and her love was never mine to receive. I was simply happy enough to be a part of her life. 

A total simp. I thought, hating myself while sifting through memories of her and my many failed relationships. It’d become a running joke between us, dating folks, us both growing pessimistic through experience.  

“I’m sorry, Floyd, I couldn’t help myself! I’m getting close . . . I can feel it!” Her eyes lit up with little stars. 

I melted a little. “You know, scientific discovery can wait a few hours. Yeah?”

“But–”

“Nope.”

“Don’t interrupt me!”

I sighed. She was grumpy, I figured, but who wouldn’t be? Waking up in the wee hours of the morning after a stiff sleep on a countertop. I couldn’t imagine the soreness in her neck right now. I fought a giggle as I watched her massage it. 

“If I can just . . .” She began a long rant about something I couldn’t possibly understand, let alone relay to an audience. I listened intently, asking questions and loving every second of her childish excitement. Clearly, she believed in her project and was ecstatic about a potential breakthrough. Whatever it was, it was important to her and now to me, even though it was incomprehensible. 

Tess brought her speech to a close, letting her dreamy eyes fall into mine. “You know, Floyd, you don’t have to sit and listen. I know this stuff is boring to you.”

“Hmm? Oh, shush. I love listening to you talk.” I couldn’t help but feel a little red creep into my cheeks. Flirting was easy with most folks, but not her. 

She seemed unfazed, checking the clock. “Woah! It is late!”

I followed her eyes. It was now closer to four than to three. I fought a yawn. “Yeah, Tess. It’s late and cold as hell . . . Let’s get out of here. I’ll drive you home.”

“Are you sure you’re good to drive?”

I shrugged, “Probably.”

“Don’t ‘probably’ me, dummy. Are you or are you not?”

“I’ll be fine. I think my body is getting used to late hours at the office.”

“Do you like your new job?” She asked as we collected her things and began the long trek to the parking garage outside. 

“Eh . . . It’s not bad. The pay is good, the hours suck, but I don’t dislike it,” we threw her bag into the trunk of my car, I opened the door and gestured for her to take a seat, “Don’t fall asleep on me while I’m driving. I need conversation to keep me up and running.”

She started fake snoring as I started the car, I smiled as I shifted gear and hit the gas. The car flung forward and I slammed on brakes, Tess jolted forward, grabbing the dash and shouting. 

“Hey!” She slapped my arm and I laughed. 

“Oh? Sorry, Tess. I must’ve fallen asleep . . .” It was my turn to fake a snore.

She exhaled, annoyed, and I couldn’t help but laugh between snores. 

The drive was quiet at first. The thirty minutes to her apartment was a swiveling mess of city-streets and red lights, enough to keep me awake even without company, but I enjoyed the idle talk of the day. 

There was a lull in the conversation as I took a turn a little too slowly. 

“Everything okay, TeeTee?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that.”

I laughed. “Yes ma’am.”

More silence. It’d been nearly ten years since we met each other in college. I knew her well enough to worry when she acted like this. 

“What’s the matter?” I prodded. 

She sighed loudly. “You won’t let it go until I talk about it, will you?”

“You got it,” I rolled the windows down and drove right past her home, “We’ll take a little detour while you spill.”

“I hate you.”

I smiled, “Do you?”

Sighing again, she mumbled, “No.”

“Mhm. So, what’s on your mind?”

There was a long pause while I waited for her to begin. 

She finally did. 

“You-Yo- I mean, why did you come to California with me?” 

“That’s a dumb question.”

“Humor me.”

“I came because you asked me to, obviously.”

“But you had family back home! Friends! A good job, a career, and a good place to stay! You left all that stuff, Floyd! That doesn’t make sense.”  

“But you asked me, so I came.” Why is she making such a big deal out of this? I wondered. 

Tess threw her hands up in exasperation, practically yelling, “That doesn’t make sense! Why?”

I cut my eyes toward her in the passenger’s seat, watching her squirm and wiggle like a toddler in the middle of a tantrum. 

“Why do you ask all of a sudden?”

“I just don’t understand you . . . You’re so so so stupid sometimes. When I moved out here . . . even my own boyfriend wouldn’t come with me! He was too wrapped up in his own bullshit. He’d rather end the relationship than try long distance . . . but here you are! Some dude I bumped into in my freshman year of college, out here a whole world away from his own life. You had a good thing going until I moved out here.” 

I couldn’t tell if it was hatred, sadness, regret, or some crazy blend of all three, but the tone of her voice made my heart hurt. I felt the need to defend myself. The desire to encourage her. “I didn’t abandon anything worth fretting over when I left home. It was my choice, my decision. Besides, I had been looking for an adventure for quite some time. You gave me the excuse to finally do what I’d been procrastinating. You gave me something worth moving my life forward for.”

My words hung in the air like a thick, humid blanket. Silently, I wished that I had taken her home instead of on a ride. She made no sense to me, entirely unreadable. The awkward confusion of unrequited love finally settled hard in my stomach. 

She broke the foreboding silence with a nearly inaudible whisper, “Why would you do that . . .?”

It was my time. It had to be! Ten years of beating around the bush like some sort of burglar were culminating into this one moment. It’s time to take my shot! God, my heart beat so hard I felt it practically punching my ribcage as I inhaled deeply, mustering my courage, then–

“Wait. Floyd.” She cut me off. 

“Bu–”

“No.” She held up a hand to silence me. 

I pushed on, “Don’t ‘no’ me. You asked me a question, I’m going to answer it. Tess, you gave me a reason to be who I’ve always wanted to be. You’ve always given me a reason to push a little further, to be a little better. Ever since college. Ever since that first dude tore your heart out. In every little pointless fight. All of it. For every single bit of it, my feelings for you haven’t changed. I came here because I love you and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, let alone asking you to love me back.” 

The car hummed, the heat pushing against our skin, staving off the cold wind outside. She was either speechless, thoughtless, or so uncomfortable with my confession that she was left stunned. I didn't blame her, the awkwardness of my feelings overwhelming even sleep deprivation. Light had begun to creep into the clouds, coating their linings in silver, as we drove past the city limits. The California countryside was one hell of a sight to behold. A practical haven for drought-ridden plants and animals. I loved it and I loved my company, but I hated the circumstance. Ideally, we would’ve been well rested for such an emotional conversation. Maybe I’d have brought her a bouquet of roses or chased her to the airport, catching her right before she boarded the plane. 

I’m not sure what would’ve been best, but anything would’ve been better than the quiet, exhausted, awkward, heavy, uncomfortable conversation that I found myself in. I sniffed a few times like a total weirdo, quietly dying inside over how my car smelled. 

Should’ve put that air freshener in here . . . I thought. 

“So,” I decided to panic, “don’t question my motives.”

Surprisingly, she only yawned, leaning back in the passenger seat. 

Is she bored? 

The sun finally broke the horizon. Full yellow swaths reached out like fingers across the countryside, grasping at us as we pulled into her apartment complex. 

The door opened, my heart sank, but the door didn’t close. 

“I’m sorry.” I said. Feeling the need to apologize for some stupid reason. 

“Don’t apologize,” She responded, then added, “I don’t think you’re awake enough to drive.”

“I-I can. It’s no big deal.” I turned to face her. She was staring at me with those deep blue, intelligent eyes of hers. 

“Come inside.”

“Bu-!”

“Shut up.” She swiveled her body, standing outside and slamming the car door. I watched her strut to her apartment, struggle to unlock it, then turn to face me. She frowned, gesturing for me to follow. 

Was she even listening? 

The car shuddered to sleep as I parked and followed her in. She pointed silently to her couch and tossed me some linen from a nearby closet, then a blanket and pillow. 

Please say something . . . But I couldn’t muster the courage as I lay down and she retired to her bedroom. 

Thankfully, the pure exhaustion of missing an entire night’s sleep overtook any ability to think, let alone regret. I figured the next day would be difficult, impossibly so, even as I fell into a hard, heavy sleep. 

I don’t know how long I was out, but I knew by the soreness in my back and the blinding afternoon light filtering through the window that it had been quite a while. The world was dreary and warm as I struggled to shake away sleep. Something pinned me to the back fold of the couch, something warm and soft and breathing. 

Am I dreaming? She lay against me, her face nuzzled into my chest in a surprisingly tight hug. 

“You can’t drop surprises like that so late at night, Floyd. You startled me.” 

My heart nearly jumped from my chest as it filled with comfort and happy confusion. 

This isn’t a dream!