Not Without You

twenty-one

Leo

"Are you sure you want to come to the party tomorrow?" Aria asks me at work the next day. "I feel like my dad was pressuring you a little."

I begin to gnaw on my lip. As much as I want to, there's still that introverted piece of me that is screaming at me to not go to this party, to not waste my time with some party and instead focus my attention on finishing this bucket list. It's all I've been thinking about since Aria was over at my place. I hate having this subtle form of anxiety that causes me to bounce back and forth between my decisions. That being said, I don't want to disappoint Aria and her family. They invited me. The least I can do is go to the party. But what really drives me to nod my head is the fact that Aria is going to be there, along with her uncle and her dad, two people I've come to know fairly well within the past couple of weeks. There's the concept of familiarity on my side in this situation, which helps immensely.

"Are you sure?" Aria presses as she rings up a customer, typing in the information needed for the rentals. "That'll be two-hundred-and-fifty-five dollars with tax, please." The customer holds up his credit card and Aria passes him the terminal.

I don't know how I feel about Aria being so vocal about a party in front of everyone, in front of all the people who know who she is, but I tell myself to calm down. She's said nothing about us being a couple. She's said nothing about where she lives. I take a deep breath. "Yeah," I reply, getting the equipment ready for our customers. It's a dad, taking his twin daughters for a weekend-long trip up to the cabins. "It'll be fun, right? You said you guys play a lot of bocce ball and stuff?"

Before Aria can respond, an argument breaks out between the two little girls. "I want the green helmet!"

"No! I get it because I saw it first."

"Girls," the dad says. "Please. Not right now."

I smile. This situation reminds me of when Clara and I were younger, maybe about five or six. It was one of those times Kit and Aunty Tenille had travelled to New Brunswick for my birthday in April. Only, rather than our fight being over the colour of a helmet, it was about who got the corner piece of my birthday cake. Both of us prefer the icing over the cake, and the corner piece always has more icing. The fight ended up with the piece of cake landing on the floor.

Quickly, I glance down to see if we have another kid's helmet in that colour. We don't. But I do see two red ones, which works in my favour because up until this point, the two girls have been admiring Aria from afar, whispering about their favourite hockey player. Grabbing both bike helmets, I step around the counter. "Hey," I say, walking over to them.

Both girls immediately go quiet, nervous in my presence. I have to suppress a laugh. I find it ironic that they're nervous around me when I'm feeling the exact same way around them. It's ridiculous, but that's what happens when you're as antisocial as I am.

Kneeling down, I hold out the two red helmets and lower my voice. "You know who's standing behind the counter, right?" I ask. I can feel Aria's gaze drilling into the back of my skull, but I'm, surprisingly, okay with that.