What was that last night?
You had asked yourself that question a hundred times. It was the first thing on your mind when you woke from perfect dreams about perfect kisses and now, an hour later as you crawled out of bed, you were still wondering.
Your daily affirmation went something like, “There’s no need to be nervous. He’s Tom. You will find out what that kiss meant to him.” Because it means the universe to you. Even the memory is enough to bring heat to your cheeks.
But when you check your phone and don’t see a text from him, you almost convince yourself it didn’t happened, that it was a manifestation of thinking about him so much and finally spending time with him. A hallucination. You had finally snapped.
Shuffling slowly to the kitchen, you think about dinner from last night and realize nothing in there could compare. Not unless you open a cabinet and Tom is in there with a nice little bow. Heck, he didn’t even need the bow.
Sadly, opening the cabinets results in no Tom. Your mom has some raisin bread and your dad some Raisin Bran and you make a mental note to encourage variety to their diets. That advice would have to come later. Your parents are out for the morning, first church and then visiting a friend in the next town over so staying in your pj's all day seems like a brilliant idea.
Your phone chimes from your pajama pocket and you fish it out, wondering what discount you now qualify for from People or some other such offer.
But it's not an email. It's a text. A text from Tom.
~Morning, darling. Sleep well?~
You freak out marginally. At least you will say marginally when he asks months later. Really, you’re jumping up and down on the spot, squeeing quite happily. You’re not a fangirl. You’re a girl in love and the boy you love has contacted you the next day. It doesn’t matter that you are friends and text regularly. This is different.
Once you calm down a bit, you take a deep breath and type a response but when it doesn't seem laid back enough you delete it. You delete the next one, too. Finally, you come up with the perfect response.
~Yep. You?~
A response doesn’t immediately come and your heart sinks. Perhaps he’s busy. Is he filming today? You can’t remember if he said last night because pretty much everything that wasn’t the kiss has been nearly forgotten.
You put your phone on the counter and stare at it, willing it to chime. You pick it up and put it back several times, checking to see if maybe you missed the alert. Your mom’s nagging voice fills your mind about watching pots and boiling water and you grouse at the wisdom, splaying your ponytail to make the hairband snugger against your head. You know your hair is sticking out every which way with tufts hanging in your face that you tuck behind your ears, but today is pj day so you don’t really care.
When another five minutes pass with no text, you set about your original goal, deciding on an orange to eat. You are being silly, ridiculous really.
Wasn’t this what happened last time? He had promised to see you the next day after the baseball game but all you got was that lame call and him explaining he had to go back to England. And a pain that had set up camp in your heart until dinner last night. You hadn’t really realized that until this moment, standing in your parents’ kitchen, eating an orange, in your pajamas. Epiphanies come at the strangest times.
Stupid, eye-opening, splash of cold water to the heart epiphanies.
The phone chimes and you nearly jump out of your skin but you tell yourself to take a deep breath and not to be silly. Picking up the phone with juice-covered fingers, you unlock the screen with a knuckle and feel your shoulders sag when you see the message is from your mom.
YOU ARE READING
The In-Betweens
Fanfiction"How did you know you loved me?" "The In-betweens," you say softly. You met Tom on the set of the Avengers and your lives have slowly woven together into a happy marriage. The road to your happily ever after may not have been the smoothest but it h...
