So I ask if she wants to hang out.
It’s not out of the ordinary, we’ve always hung out either with our brothers, cousins or alone. It’s not a big deal. Yet, right now it feels different, but I’m blaming it on how she’s acting.
We go inside; I walk ahead of her to turnon the lights because I can’t tell if she’s scared of what’s going on. But I’m going to find out.
Especially since she’s still standing near the entryway of her house looking at me and twisting her hands together.
“What’s going on?” I finally ask.
“Hm? Nothing,” she lies, badly I might add.
I drop myself onto her couch and pat the cushion next to me. “Bullshit, try again.”
She sighs, walking over and sitting on the other end of the couch. “Nothing is wrong. I think your exhaustion rubbed off on me.”
“Want me to leave so you can go to sleep?”
Rae shakes her head. “No, I’m okay.”
“Okay, well then you can actually tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing,” she groans. “Why do you think something is wrong?”
“You’re being quiet and refuse to look at me.”
Her eyes shoot up to mine as if to make a point. “Am not.”
“Are you seeing someone?” I ask, needing to make sure. She’s never mentioned anyone, and I know she would.
“No, you’d know if I was.”
“Mhm,” I hum, then look down at the jersey she’s still wearing and pride blooms in my chest. “You look good in that, you know?”
Her cheeks flush, but she looks away trying to hide it again, and I want to pull her chin back to keep her looking at me, blush and all.
“Why’re you acting weird?” I ask again.
“I’m really not,” she insists. “I’m just tired. I should change and go to bed.”
Instead of doing that, she doesn’t move. “Or you could lay down here and we could watch a movie.”
Rae beams because I know a movie is one of the surefire ways to get her to relax. Movies and music always manage to calm her.
“Can we watch the new Lyvia Wolf one? I’ve wanted to see it, but never had time.”
“Anything you want.”
I grab the remote and open my arms, welcoming her to lay down like I know she wants to. And for the first time tonight things feel normal. She scoots over, laying her head in my lap, stretching her legs out on the couch while I search for the movie she wants.
Looking down to see her head resting on my lap, I smile at the sight. She sinks into me, her red hair is spread out and it seems so soft I just want to run my fingers through it.
She twists to look up at me. “Are you going to start it?”
I realize I’ve just been looking at her, and fumble with the remote to press play. I don’t miss the small smile on her lips before she turns back to watch the screen. I try to pay attention, but it’s really hard because all I can focus on is the weight of Rae’s head in my lap. My fingers itch to brush through her hair. To hold her hand. To feel more of her.
Rae’s breathing slows down as she falls asleep and I finally give into the urge to run my fingers through the red strands. I was right about how soft they are. She lets out a small, sleepy moan, shifting and I freeze. Instead of her moving away from me, she snuggles closer and I relax again.
This feels so natural. Just like most everything between us, this isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep on my lap. It wouldn’t even be the first time we’ve spent the night together. The only things we haven’t done are crossing the line into more.
