summer romance (e.d.)

thirteen

anna

tuesday morning, i roll out of bed with the sun.

the golden light flooding through my room makes me forget about ethan and the seashell for a moment.

last night, i politely declined lisa's invitation to dinner because i knew i wouldn't be able to bear looking at ethan after i made him so upset.

i try to rack my brain and remember if lisa ever mentioned anything about the fact that if you try to hand ethan a seashell, he might start crying. (he didn't, but i thought he was going to for a solid second).

the shower feels nice as soon as it hits my skin, and i sigh contently. maybe he's over it, or maybe he's still mad at me. what do i even care? he'll be a jerk to me no matter what mood he's in.

but i do care. because i actually have a heart.

by the time i've finished getting ready in some sweatpants and a messy bun, the sun has risen completely and i walk to the kitchen to prepare my coffee.

as i'm pouring it into a mason jar, a light knock at my door almost makes me drop the glass.

getting myself together, i open the door and narrowly stop myself from mouth-dropping at the face that stares back at me.

"ethan? what're you doing here this early?" i whisper as he lets himself in.

he keeps his head lowered for a second, but then meets my eyes. his look dark and slightly red. it's like he hasn't slept in four days.

i close the door as i wait expectantly for his answer.

"i just..." he struggles getting the words out. "wanted to... apologize?"

i cross my arms, furrowing my eyebrows. "for what?"

he scratches the back of his neck. "i don't really know. about the whole thing yesterday, i guess."

"yeah, what the hell was that?" i ask, ruder than intended.

for the first time since i arrived, ethan's face softens.

"i can't tell you, but just know that i appreciate the thought of the shell. i'm sorry i got mad."

"i'm still so confused."

he sighs, glancing at my coffee maker. "i cannot believe i'm asking you this, but can i stay for coffee?"

"of course," i respond. "if you tell me why you got upset."

"no," he says. "i just... will it sound weird if i say that i just need your sarcastic, horrible, company right now?"

i crack a smile. "have a seat."

he sighs in relief and takes a seat at the bar stool across the island counter.

"hot or iced?" i ask, holding up a keurig cup.

"hot, straight black. no creamer."

i wrinkle my nose as i place a mug under the dispenser. "that's no fun."

"yeah, well i didn't sleep much last night," he yawns, rubbing his eyes.

"why's that?" i ask, sipping from my coffee glass.

"i don't want to talk about it," he says quickly. "do something that you would normally do. insult me! tell me i'm a horrible, stuck-up prick—"

"no," i cut him off with a laugh. "i'm not going to do that. it's too nice of a day to waste it on useless insults slung at my boss."