Unlikely Odds

Chapter Six

I don't believe I'll ever adjust to the amount of snow falling in Atlanta compared to the lack of it in my hometown of Columbus. Sergio seems to immensely enjoy it the way he's prancing in front of me on our way to his apartment. He holds his hand out to catch snowflakes within it. I stand aback to watch in enjoyment at the boy in him coming out to bask in the chilly day.

I come behind him, wrapping my arm around his waist to nuzzle him into an embrace. His perfect laugh fills my ears as I swoop him through his front door out of the snow.

"I say you put on a movie, and I start dinner. Does that sound good to you?" I ask, dropping him onto the futon. He leans to the side to grab the remote.

"That sounds wonderful thank you, love."

I pull on Sergio's apron from a hook in the apartment kitchen. Chinese food sounds good as always. I take the frozen package of General Tso's chicken out of the freezer, then a baking sheet and pot from the cabinets.

"Hey babe, what happened to your roommate?" I call. I found it peculiar that Sergio allowed me to spend the night two days ago despite the possibility of Dennis walking in.

"He moved out last week. I've got an entire apartment to myself all times of the day. Can you believe it?"

I nod my head. The water reaches its boiling point. I pour the noodles in.

"Must be nice," I respond, thinking back to this morning when Hayley woke me up irregularly for the thousandth time.

Soon, the noodles cook and I dish out the fine dinner onto two separate plates. I find Sergio sprawled across the couch completely engrossed in a new episode of Steven Universe playing on the television set. The sound of the porcelain plate clinking against the wood of the table snaps him from his concentration.

We eat together in silence watching nearly two episodes of Steven Universe before we're done. I glance at him every few minutes, struggling to hide the wicked grin threatening to spread across my lips and blow my surprise. Once I see he's done I take his plate and stand tall. Then the nervousness sets in. I rush off to the kitchen, dropping the plates into the empty silver sink, and return to Sergio's side on the couch.

I choose a less bold route to my surprise. Taking his hand in mine, I capture his full attention.

"Sergio Heron I cordially invite you to attend Christmas dinner tomorrow at my family's residence in Columbus, Georgia."

He doesn't hesitate for one moment.

"I'd love to meet your family and eat their delicious cooking. Does it compare to yours?"

He places himself into my lap. I wrap my arms around his torso. Sergio reaches a steady hand out to stroke my cheek.

"What's your family like?"

I recline back onto the couch. Sergio falls accordingly atop my chest.

"We're weird," I tell him gruffly. "I've never met a bunch of people that understand me and are as weird as I am."

Sergio nuzzles his head against the crook of my neck. Mid-morning light filters through the thin blinds placed to the front of Sergio's apartment. Most of our days, when class is cancelled and neither of our lives call for responsibility, end up this way. I rub my hand up and down his back. The fabric of his shirt moves up due to the motions of my hand. His bunches his own in my shirt.