Birthday Flowers | The Kissing Booth

10. Idyll, Spiral

(Elle)

Sunday

The sun is high in the sky by the time I wake up, and I drowsily marvel at the unexpected turn my weekend has taken. I'd had a quiet, solitary Saturday planned. I was going to visit Mom, have one of our chats, tell her all my latest stories. How things are finally close to normal again after two crazy years. How I'm living on my own again. How well Dad is doing. How hilarious Brad has become. How the tight knot of fear and dread that gripped me for two years has finally started to loosen. How I've actually let myself relax. And then I'd go wander around the Pier, sit on the beach, ride the carousel Mom loved to ride with us, maybe see if the arcade ever scrubbed off the tiny graffiti Lee and I added to the dance pad before graduation. Call my roommate and see if she wanted to get dinner.

The Saturday I'd planned would have been good, and yet I've never been so glad to have plans completely derailed. I hear the derailer of those plans walking around downstairs. I'd half awoken earlier this morning to see him dressing for a run; how Noah had the energy to get up early after all the sleep we didn't get last night is beyond me, but he's always been the early riser to my night owl. 

I go searching through Noah's dresser for a fresh shirt and shorts to steal, but all the drawers are empty. I realize anew that he doesn't live here anymore, that he must have moved all his stuff to wherever it is he lives in San Francisco. The closet is similarly picked over, just old school uniforms and sports gear. I debate whether Lee's or June's closet would be less weird to raid before remembering I still have swimsuits stashed in Lee's room.

"Interesting outfit," Noah laughs as I walk down the stairs in one of his old uniform shirts over a bikini.

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly pack for an overnight yesterday."

"Oh, no complaints here. I'm pretty sure this exact outfit featured heavily in several of my favorite high school fantasies."

Noah looks to be busy cooking, and I realize I'm starving. We never did get around to dinner last night.

"Coffee?" I ask hopefully.

"In that thermal carafe on the island." Noah replies. "I figured that would be your first demand once you dragged your lazy ass out of bed."

"You do know me."

"Know you, and fear your undercaffeinated rages."

I'd grumble at him but I'm too grateful for the coffee. "Are those... pancakes?"

"Mom and Dad didn't exactly leave the kitchen stocked for guests, so pancakes and scrambled eggs were the best I could do."

"Hmmm. I'm starting to suspect that whole thing yesterday about cooking for yourself was a little exaggerated. You really just know how to make breakfast." Let's not think about whether that's because mornings are when he most often has guests to cook for.

"Continue mocking me and those steaks I found in the freezer will not get grilled later."

"You know, we're not marooned on a desert island. We could... leave the house and find food."

"In that outfit? We're staying right here."

And I can't disagree, because I have no desire to be anywhere but here.

~~~~

The rest of Sunday into Monday passes in this kind of unhurried bliss. Just me and Noah, the house to ourselves, catching up on two years of missing each other. My roommate thinks I went home for the weekend. Dad and Brad think I stayed on campus. Other than Lee, no one knows Noah is here. No one knows the two of us are cozied up at the Flynn house.