Jellyfish

4. Someone Like Miles

It had been a week since I even saw the slip of paper with Miles' number on it. We'd gotten home so late that all order was abandoned in favor of sleep which didn't last for most of us. Work came the next day as it always did. Even I was up in the morning because my second job functioned on normal daytime schedules. A few days every week, I worked seven to four at a craft store that was slowly making its way out of existence. There were enough workers that I was only a part timer, but also enough demand to ensure I still got paid a decent amount. The night of chaos was decidedly forgotten by the following afternoon, so of course, I had no reason to recall a mirage's contact information. Until today, that is.

Miles James. It was certainly fascinating that someone could be so forward and confident without being unlikable. He'd definitely tired me out the other night with such boundless curiosity, but I couldn't say I really minded his presence. It wasn't hard to tell that Miles wasn't fond of silence. As someone often shrouded in noise, I can't say I'm a big fan of constant chatter. I like my quiet times and so do the others. Someone like Miles- talkative and overly boisterous- was not at all the type of person I'd choose to be around, yet I sort of enjoyed it. I don't know if I enjoyed it enough to peruse further contact or not, something I was currently contemplating. He was a welcome new, but he was also a very unknown kind of new. I didn't know if I could really handle a friendship with Miles, but I supposed it couldn't hurt to find out.

"Blair?" I yelled, not caring enough to pull myself off the couch. It didn't matter if we made a fuss considering we were the only ones home today. He appeared rather quickly in the stairwell with a look of displeasure that said he was probably trying to sleep. Somewhat apologetic, I offered a smile. "Do you remember the boy from the other night? The one next to me?"

"Twenty-one questions kid?" Blair snorted. "Yeah, why?"

"Do you mind if I text him?"

If it wasn't already obvious, we were pretty poor. Only Oliver made a significant amount of income and that was what we needed to pay the bills. That said, we only owned three phones. One phone was shared between Eddy and Diego who worked together and used it for business. One phone was shared between Winter and Oliver, but really only Oliver used it. Winter was still struggling with the different country thing in all honesty, so the only person he ever bothered to message was Amaan once in a blue moon. He also said Oliver was far too social and there was no escape from the stupid thing's notifications, so with one shared phone and one Oliver centric phone, that left one to be shared betwixt myself and Blair, hence why I was asking him permission.

Blair was sort of like Winter in the sense that he had no need for the phone. The only people he talked to were the people in our house and we both worked together so it's not like he'd miss any business calls. For this reason, I expected it when he shrugged and rolled his eyes. "I don't care what you do August. Don't bother me for dumb shit."

As he retreated upstairs, I mumbled to myself, "alright Oscar the grouch."

Settling back into the couch, I started by adding Miles as a contact. I knew next to nothing about the boy yet so there was no friendly contact name to give him, just a plain Miles stared back at me. Next, I opened up a blank message and typed out a very bland 'hello'. Not sending it yet, I sighed trying to recall the last time I texted anyone that didn't live with me. I used to have normal conversations with my friends, but that felt like eons ago. I didn't remember how to talk about stupid, trivial matters nor did I remember how to make friends. How was I meant to talk to Miles, a seemingly super extrovert? Suddenly, I realized that this was a dumb idea. We were such different people; I doubt we'd even get along. I sighed and deleted the greeting blinking up at me.

Then again, I started thinking, why would he give me his number if he wasn't already interested in me? Sure, he was a very friendly person, but certainly he had criteria for who he would befriend. When you were rich and happy, you were allowed to have standards so perhaps I had met his. If that was the case, then maybe he already wanted to befriend me, and I didn't have to worry about it so much. I retyped the 'hello', hovering anxiously over the send button. Logically, he wouldn't have slipped me his number had he not wanted me to text him right? It wasn't like I planned to get particularly invested in the rich boy, I just found myself a bit curious about him. Finally fed up with myself, I added an 'Is this Miles?' to the end and hit send.