Pucking Fantastic

Chapter 8: In A Life Time

Look out for the <>!

I sat on a kitchen bar stool and looked at the time for the fifth time in two minutes. Callum said he would be here soon but waiting was setting me on edge for reasons I didn't understand. I looked at my reflection that my phone gave and noticed my slightly frizzy hair from skating the past two hours looked wild and unkept. I smoothed it over with my hands and smiled, convinced that I looked good enough for just a review since this wasn't a date. But then why did I feel so nervous?

I heard a knock on the door and almost instantly I was at the door, opening it to see Callum on the other side.

With a backpack in his hands, he smiled at me as he leaned into the door frame like there was nowhere else he belonged. I thought I was confident and collected, but every time I was around him, I felt like melting. "Hi," he said simply.

"Hey. You're early," I said, as I found my words falling out of my mouth like golf balls.

He shrugged with a small chuckle, finding humor in how flustered I was. I wondered if he like to fluster all of the people around him, but as I thought about it, I couldn't remember him hanging out with people at school. I had nothing to go off of except my own interactions with him, which was more interaction than I have seen him have with anyone else.

"I don't like making anyone of importance wait," he said casually as he ran his hands through his longish brown hair and pushed it back into place. For being November in a suburb of raining cold Portland, he made his black leather motor jacket look warm and cozy.

I smiled as I felt my cheeks grow slightly warm. "You think I'm important?" I quickly regretted asking that question, as it made me feel desperate.

He nodded. "Of course, I interviewed you. Thus, you're important. I don't interview just anybody now do I?" he said and walked into the house without being formally invited in. He looked around the foyer, sizing it up, judging the paneled white walls and hung paints. "Your place is nice."

"Thanks," I said, not sure what else to say to that. "Well, want to go over that article?"

He nodded as he took off his shoes and coat slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, which made me wonder how much time he booked for this. I thought it would be a quick visit; he seemed busy after all, but it looked like he wanted to stay longer and honestly, I wanted him to as well. "Where can I put these?" he asked, holding his coat and shoes in hand.

I took his coat off his hands and put it in the small coat closet by the door. "You can stick your shoes by the door," I said as I pointed to all the other shoes in the corner.

He nodded and dropped his designer Gucci boots by the door without care.

I frowned slightly at the casualness towards his belongings. If I had any pair of shoes that cost $700 I would take better care of them. Wait, actually, I did, they were my skates, but I wasn't tossing them around willy-nilly on purpose.

His boots showed extra wear and tear, more than my skates did, and that was saying a lot. There were scuffs on them, with mud smeared on the bottom and sides. It looked like he hiked in them before he came here. But who would hike in shoes like those?

"We can look it over in the family room," I said to him as I led him to our vaulted ceiling family room with floor to ceiling windows. I took a seat in my normal spot on the white suede couch and he sat down next to me as if that was where he belonged all this time.

In one fluid motion, he pulled out his laptop from his backpack and put it on his lap. "I really enjoyed writing about you. For a second, it was like I had a passion for interviewing again."