“Here. You’ll eat this right?” I asked, handing him the sandwich. Flynn opened it up and peeled back the bread.
“Yes. I’ll eat this. Though I don’t know why I couldn’t have just brought a chicken salad sandwich. We could have eaten those instead of this stuff,” Flynn said, throwing the plastic wrap in the trash.
“But then you wouldn’t have all of this,” I pointed out.
Flynn grunted and took a bite of the sandwich. “This is good. I like it,” he said and I felt a silly bit of pride at being able to pick out something that he liked.
I started eating the sushi, which was borderline disgusting. But I ate it anyway.
We sat together in companionable silence, neither requiring conversation the way some people do. We weren’t the sort of people to fill silence with meaningless chitchat. Our quiet said more than any words ever could.
“I decided to pick up a few shifts at JAC’s to make some money until something else comes along,” I told Flynn, cringing slightly.
“Why did you make that face?” Flynn asked before taking another bite of his sandwich.
“Did I make a face?” I asked lightly, sometimes hating how observant he was, even if he didn’t always understand exactly what he saw.
“Yes, you made a face when you said you were going to work at JACs. Are you not happy about it?” he asked, reading me like a book.
I sighed and put the empty sushi container back in the grocery bag. “I just feel like I’m moving backwards instead of forwards.”
“How is that possible? I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Flynn said, looking confused.
“I just mean that’s where I was working when I lived here before. I had hoped that I’d be doing something else by now.”
“And it’s bad to work there again,” Flynn surmised.
“It’s not bad. Just not what I want,” I admitted, feeling like Flynn was pulling truth out of me with pliers.
“Then don’t work there. Wait until you get a better job,” he said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world.
I laughed without humor. “I need money, Flynn. I can’t live off rainbows and fairy dust,” I stated sarcastically, knowing he wouldn’t catch it.
“Fairy dust doesn’t exist. That’s a dumb thing to say, Ellie,” Flynn responded, looking irritated with my efforts at joking.
“I just mean I’m almost out of money and I need to be working. I can’t sit around your house all day.”
Flynn opened up a bag of chips and put a handful in his mouth. “Why not?” he asked around a mouthful of food.
“Because that’s not what I do, Flynn. That’s not who I am,” I argued, feeling irrationally annoyed that he didn’t get what I was trying to tell him. I knew this only demonstrated our communication barrier. I knew that I had to be patient and try to explain what I was thinking. What I was feeling.
But I wasn’t in a very patient mood.
“You’re getting angry,” Flynn said, still chewing his food.
“You should wait to speak until after you’ve swallowed,” I pointed out with more than a little anger.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. If you don’t want to work at JACs then don’t work there.” He saw things in black and white. He didn’t see things in the varying shades of grey that lay between those two extremes.
Not for the first time I wished it wasn’t so hard to tell him exactly how I felt. I wished he could hear what I was trying to tell him and I wished I were better at getting him to listen.
“I need money, Flynn! I need to feel like I’m contributing! I don’t want you to take care of me financially! I want to be able to take care of myself! That’s all!” I shouted and then realized I was taking my frustrations out on him and that wasn’t fair.
We sat silently for a while. I was embarrassed at my outburst and Flynn looked upset. I hadn’t wanted to upset him. I had come here to spend time with him. I wanted to enjoy our time together.
What was I doing?
I had thought when I left school and came here that this was our fresh start. That we could build on something wonderful we had created together.
