“Well, because you’re so jerky about it.”
“What is it with women and saying men have thick skulls? You have to be one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met. You don’t even listen to logic.”
Yeah, no apologies for him.
I refuse to keep going around in the circle the two of us have been arguing the last two days. I push past Hudson and find the same spot on the couch I left an hour earlier. I can’t afford cable. The rent is cheap for San Francisco, but still outrageous. Marissa and Ryland may be my landlords, but I refuse to let them lower the price of rent for me. It doesn’t, however, stop me from mooching off their cable account. Hey, we’re on the same floor. It’s practically the same place.
And the best part about sharing their television package is the Netflix account. All the streaming TV I need at the click of my fingertips. It’s a great time to be alive.
Without saying a word to Hudson, I turn on the television and return to the spot where we had stopped watching Futurama. He can hear the TV from his spot at the table. Unfortunately for me as soon as the intro music starts up Hudson abandons his workstation and takes up a seat in the extra living room chair.
I continue ignoring him.
The first episode of Futurama plays and I ignore him.
Who does he think he is? He shows up here out of the blue, uninvited mind you, during our Christmas Eve party and starts to boss me around like I’m supposed to listen. And even now that we’re pretty sure my life is not in danger he’s still here trying to tell me what to do. Timmy tight lips — yes, I gave Richie a nickname because it sounds much more gangster — isn’t talking, but that hasn’t stopped Hudson from trying to make himself a permanent fixture in my life. And that’s super annoying because… I want him here. Don’t tell Marissa, but I even like it when he gets firm. Sure, I don’t plan to listen much but I like he tries so hard to make me. I bet most other men would have decided we’re crazy and hightailed it out of here on the first plane back to Maine. Not Hudson, though. He finishes what he starts and for some reason I like that. And him. I’m a mess.
If only he didn’t think he was right all the time, he’d be perfect. And even if he is right, sometimes he doesn’t have to be so smug about it.
I also can’t ignore the fact he has stuck it out. I’ve been mean and abrasive. I’ve yelled at him. I put myself and him in danger. I’ve kept a ton of secrets. And he hasn’t left. Not only hasn’t he abandoned me to a rogue criminal, he’s even told me he likes me.
I have no idea why. I’m absolutely crazy. My friends are absolutely crazy. The fact he even wants to get involved with me in the first place probably makes him a little crazy. Not that I plan to tell him my suspicions. There’s only so much I can expect him to turn a blind eye to. I don’t want to press my luck. At least more than I already have. Which is probably a lot.
Ugh. Why do relationships have to be so complicated?
Here I am debating every single part of my life over the last three weeks and what has Hudson been doing this entire time? Watching Futurama. Who has time to watch Futurama when these life questions need to be answered? Didn’t anyone ever teach him the importance of internal debate? Maybe he’s not concerned with our relationship? It’s possible he’s decided I’m not worth his time. He’s moved on to the blonde chick who lives on the third floor. I swear he watched her walk away for four seconds way too long the other day.
Why are men so hard to understand? It’s like they enjoy making us question our very existence. And how is it possible that someone who is so different makes me want to try so much harder? None of it makes any sense. And it’s annoying. Especially the part where Hudson doesn’t appear annoyed. He’s not happy or sad or angry or contemplative. He’s watching Futurama.
He laughs at the scene where Fry, the cartoon’s protagonist, makes a joke about gum and I lose my straws. Or is it the last straw? Whatever. Without giving it much thought, I pick the pillow up from the side of the couch and toss it as hard as I can in his direction. The pillow hits him in the side of the face and Hudson jumps up in surprise, looking in each direction like the San Francisco mob has started pelting people with pillows rather than bullets.
“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, staring at me completely bewildered.
How can he not know? “Because you laughed.”
He blinks slowly. “Because I laughed. So you threw a pillow at me?”
“It’s annoying.”
“My laugh is annoying now?”
I stand up from the chair because I’m much too annoyed to keep sitting. “No, you’re annoying because I’m over here trying to fix our relationship and you’re laughing at Futurama.”
“Excuse me? How are you trying to save our relationship?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“About our relationship?” For the first time in the last day and a half a small smile tugs at one corner of his lips. “You’re crazy.”
“Of course I am!” I say throwing my hands up in the air. Finally, he starts to get it. “You make me this way.”
“I make you crazy?”
Again, why are we discussing this? “Yes!”
This time he outright laughs, which isn’t helping his case. “So, the fact I’m trying to keep you and your friends safe while risking my own life is making you crazy?”
“Absolutely. You don’t have to be so… so… you.”
