Title, Copyright, Dedication

     

 

 

 

 

 

Turning Thirty

© 2023 Nat Cuddington

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form—electronic,mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

 

You can visit Nat’s website at natcuddington.ca

     Find Laura Kulson, the cover artist at etsy.com/shop/SirenBayStudio

 

 

 Also by Nat Cuddington:

 Neighbourly

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For anyone who feels like they need to pretend sometimes
(or all the time) to get through the day.

It’s okay, I’ll pretend with you.

 

Part 1

I

 

 

 I

 

 

 

I know my friends are throwing me a surprise party. They’ve actually been doing a pretty good job at making me think nothing is happening, and I have to commend their acting and improv skills surrounding the whole thing, but it’s all just a little convenient. My birthday’s on Tuesday and it’s the Saturday night before, and no one can come to the get-together I tried to plan. As if everyone has plans on my birthday weekend, except for my best friend, who feels bad that no one else can come. She invited me to her place so that she can at least do all the work for a quiet hang out, you know, rent the movie on Prime, order the food, and do the cleanup herself after I go home. She even said that she wanted to do a fun birthday photoshoot, so I should wear something cute. That’s her way around me not showing up to my surprise birthday party in sweats, because everyone knows I would if I thought it was just the two of us hanging out. 

So I put on the new dress that I bought for the occasion - when I thought it would be a non-surprise party planned by me.

Thirty. I can do this. I can turn thirty and not freak out. Absolutely I can. Plus look at me in my sexy dress. It’s dark purple and has thick straps that just run over the edges of my shoulders, threatening to fall off. It’s got a cute, sweetheart neckline, and my rose gold necklace holding a little round pearl sits just below my throat. Also I just got new glasses and the frames are so cute! They’re big and sort of a rounded square shape with a dark tortoiseshell design, and they make me feel really cute.

The hemline of my dress sits a few inches above my knees, and some of the watercolour splashes around my childhood dog’s paw print tattoo are visible. I do a French twist with my bangs, watching in the mirror as I grab and twist my dark brown hair along my forehead, and down to my ear. I tie it in place and let the rest mix in with my shoulder-length waves.

Thirty. 

  My best friend, Angela, texts me and tells me that I can’t come over yet. Her friend from high school has had an emergency and needs to Skype. In other words, they’re not ready for me yet. I smile and take a deep breath. I wonder how many people will be there. I don’t have that many close friends, but I had invited a bunch of people from work, so I wonder if they’ll be at the party. I wonder where everyone’s going to park. If I show up at Angela’s house and see ten cars lining the curb, I’m going to laugh. 

  I stick some facial tissue under my armpits while I wait; the spring air is nice, and it’s a comfortable temperature in my apartment, but I’m still getting all clammy. I don’t want to show up to my own surprise party with sweaty armpits. 

After about twenty minutes, Angela texts me again and says I can come over any time, and that the door is unlocked, so to just let myself in. I grab my purse and slide my phone into it, and almost grab my keys without taking the tissues out from under my armpits. I decide to throw on some more antiperspirant and then head over to my surprise party. 

  Oh I hope they’re actually throwing me a surprise party. I’ll feel like an idiot showing up in a dress with no change of clothes if we’re actually just watching movies and eating Thai takeout.

 

  Everyone jumps up and yells surprise before I’m even fully through the door, but the front door opens right into the living room, so it’s not like they needed to wait for me to turn a corner or something. I thought I was going to have to pretend to be surprised, but my reaction is genuine. I throw my hands to my mouth and immediately start crying because I was not expecting this many people to be here. There are at least fifteen people in the living room and a few more in the kitchen, and there’s streamers across the ceiling, a table of snacks, a birthday cake, a collection of booze, even! 

        “Oh my god,” I finally say. “I wasn’t expecting all of this.”

  “Were you… expecting some of it?” Angela asks. She’s let her hair out of her usual braids and has her now big, curly hair pulled onto the top of her head.

  “Yes, you guys were so obvious,” I laugh. “But I must say, playing along was the most fun I’ve had in a while.” I make my way to Angela in the middle of the room and give her a hug. “I love your hair, by the way.”

  She smiles and tilts her head to the side a little. “Why thank you.”

  “This is amazing,” I say to everyone. “Thank you guys all so much.”

  I’m definitely the most fancy dressed here, but Angela probably figured her “wear something cute” comment might make me go all out, so she’s got on a flowy knee-length dress with thin straps, showing off her dark brown shoulders.

  Everyone says happy birthday and I hug most people, and most people tell me that I look amazing in my dress, and then Angela turns on some music and we immediately start doing shots. 

  “Happy birthday, Reese,” someone I’ve never met says to me. He’s paler than I am, if that’s possible, and his black hair is short, but still long enough to be a bit messy. It’s sticking up in some spots, and poking out around his ears. 

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Um, I just started working with your friend Claire, and she invited me so I could meet some people.”

  “Yeah of course. Did you just move to town?” I ask.

“Yeah. I actually lived here a few years ago, well, more than a few years ago now. But everything’s so different now, it feels like a new town.”

“Well, welcome back,” I say with a smile. 

  He smiles and nods a little, looks away as if he’s nervous. 

  “You have to do a shot with me,” I say, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. “Have you ever had a Snappy Jack?”

  “You mean an Apple Jack?”

  “No, I mean a Snappy Jack.”

  He shakes his head. “What’s in it?”

  “I can’t remember!” I laugh. “Obviously Jack Daniel’s, but I don’t remember what it’s mixed with.”

  “Apple liqueur? I think you’re thinking of an Apple Jack.”

  “No, it’s not apple,” I say. “Let’s just do a shot of Jack on its own. I can’t remember what it’s mixed with.” 

  “Or we could do a shot of something that burns a little less going down.” He raises an eyebrow at me, but before I can answer, Claire comes over and puts her arm around me.

  “Heeeey girlie!” she yells happily. “Are you drunk yet?”

  “I’m getting there!”

  “I think she’s there,” Black-haired-paler-than-me guy says.

  “Excuse me, you haven’t met me before. You don’t know what I’m like when I’m drunk.”

  “Whatever you say,” he chuckles.

  “Okay, Jack Daniel’s-shot-know-it-all, you just…” I point my finger at him and wiggle it a little, as if I’m going to say something, but really I have nothing. Also I’m totally drunk. “You just…”

  “Yes?” He seems incredibly amused by this entire interaction, but I’m just annoyed that I can’t remember what’s in a Snappy Jack. 

    “You stay there. I have to go have a conversation with my good friend Claire.”

  “No shots then?” he asks.

“You decide on a less burny shot, and we’ll do it together when I come back.”

  “Okay,” he says with a laugh and a tilt of his head. 

  “I saw that,” I say. “You’re very condescending, you know, with that head tilting.”

  He looks at me with one of those flat smile things and raised eyebrows, you know, when someone thinks you’re being ridiculous and so they give you this look that tells you they think you’re being ridiculous.

  Claire grabs my arm and pulls me away and we make our way around the kitchen counter and towards the fridge. 

  “I think Emily’s going to ask me to marry her,” she blurts out.

I gasp. “Oh my god, no way! Why, what’s she been doing? Do you want to marry her?”

  “Yes, of course I want to marry her. I just… I sort of wanted to ask her.”

  “You’re cute,” I say. “You still could. You could do your own proposal later. I bet she’d think it’s sweet.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes! Hey, do you know what’s in a Snappy Jack?”

  “Do you mean an Apple Jack?”

  “Not you too.”

  “Anyway, Emily’s off talking to Isla on the phone, which is totally weird, right? She’s gotta be asking her for advice or something.”

  “Yes, that’s definitely what’s happening,” I say with a smile. Isla is Claire's best friend who moved to LA a little while ago to live with her celebrity boyfriend. Sometimes I'm sad that I wasn't friends with her earlier, so I could have gotten a chance to meet him.

  “So you think I should do my own proposal later?” Claire asks.

“Yes, it would be the cutest thing, and also she would never suspect it!”

  “Oh yes, that’s true! You’re smart.”

  “Only the smartest.”

  Angela comes over and puts her arms around both of us. “Hey there’s some cute guy over at the booze table asking about you, Reese.”

“The guy who looks like he’s never seen the sun?”

  Angela hits me in the arm. “Reese! That’s rude.”

  I shrug. “It’s just an observation.”

  “Well anyway, I think he’s cute, and I think he thinks you’re cute.”

  “What if I don’t think he’s cute?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.

  “Well it doesn’t matter, it’s not like you have to date him. But he’s waiting for you.”

  “Okay, I will go.”

  I make my way through the kitchen and back to the booze table where Whitey is waiting for me. Maybe I should come up with better nicknames for him. Maybe he’s sensitive about how pale he is.

  “Hello new friend,” I say.

  “I’ve decided that we are going to have Polar Bears.”

  “Delightful.”

  I watch him pour the two liquors into a mixing cup with ice and he shakes it like he’s a professional. He smiles before pouring it into two shot glasses, and then he hands one to me. I clink my glass against his and we both knock them back.

  “That was fun,” I say. “Let’s do another.”

  There’s still some in the cup so he pours us each another one, and we cheers again before drinking them in one go. 

 “So how’s your birthday going so far?” he asks after we do our shots.

 “Well technically it’s not my birthday yet. It’s my birthday on Tuesday.”

  “Ah. And how old are you going to be?”

  “Thirty.”

  “I remember turning thirty. It’ll be fun.”

  “How old are you?” I ask.

  “274.”

  I laugh and hit him in the chest. Yes, I am very drunk. I never touch men’s chests unless I have a major crush on them or am in love with them. 

  “Okay but really,” I say.

  “Thirty-two,” he says with a grin.

  “You made it sound like you turned thirty so long ago.”

  “Sometimes it feels that way.”

  We stare at each other for a few seconds and I sort of get lost in his eyes. They’re such a light blue that they’re almost grey, and blend in with his pale skin in this weirdly attractive way. Plus his dark hair just pops and is like, ‘Wow! That’s some nice hair!’. Don’t judge me, I’m drunk. 

  “Anyway, I’m Felix,” he finally says, breaking our staring contest with a blink and a glance down at his hand. Ah yes, he wants me to shake it.

  I grab onto his hand which is a very unusual temperature in that it doesn’t have one. It’s not cold but it’s also not warm, and I don’t know how to explain it except that it definitely makes me think that’s a little weird. Like, it’s like I’m shaking hands with a couch. Except it’s his hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Felix. Thanks for coming to my birthday.”

II

II

 

 

Felix is the first person to text me on my birthday. I wake up on Tuesday morning to see that he has sent me a string of birthday related emojis and then an animated emoji of a unicorn with his voice singing Happy Birthday. He actually has a really nice voice. I smile and text him back.

  Thanks, Snappy Jack. Also you should be a singer when you grow up.

  He replies with a voice clip. “That’s the dream.”

  Are you working today? I text.

  He finally replies via text this time. Yeah. You should come get pizza. 

  Maybe I will.

 

Angela meets me at my work fifteen minutes before five, and my boss lets me duck out a little early. She drives me to my apartment so I can get changed out of my stiff office clothes, and she waits in the living room as I put on a pair of skinny jeans and a flowy, striped t-shirt.

  “So this Felix guy,” she says with a grin as I emerge from my room.

  “Is very nice,” I give her. “But I’m not necessarily looking to date anyone right now, so we’re currently nothing more than friends.”

  “Currently,” she emphasizes. 

  “He hasn’t said anything about wanting to date me anyway. We texted a little bit over the weekend and he sent me a happy birthday message this morning. That’s it.”

  “And invited you for pizza.”

  “Where he works, Angela. He’s going to be working.”

  “Well I think this is very promising.”

   I sigh and open my rats’ pen door. “I’m not really looking for a boyfriend. You know I don’t like the idea of dating.”

  “Ah,” she says, holding her index finger up. “You don’t have to date per se, to get a boyfriend. This is one man, Reese. Who you don’t even have to date-”

  “Per se,” I finish for her as I lift Hazel Grace out. “Yeah. I get it. But I still don’t like the idea of hanging out with someone just because they could potentially become something more than that, you know? He could potentially become more than that, but he also couldn’t, and I’m not using either of those possibilities as a factor in my reasons for hanging out with him.”

  “Fine,” she huffs. She walks over to me and pets Hazel Grace with her index finger and then scoops out April May. “You win this time,” she adds. “But you know I just want you to have someone.”

  “But I have you, Angela. You and your wonderful husband. And my rats. I don’t need someone.”

  “But it would be nice.”

  “Yeah. But so would going to Cuba.”

 

  Carter’s is busy when we arrive, but Felix reserved us a table and he shows us to it right away. We obviously don’t get to talk much while we’re there because he’s working, but he smiles at me every time he passes by, and lingers a little when he takes our order and brings our drink refills.  I watch him as he brings other tables their food and it looks like he’s moving in fast forward. Like, he’s not jogging, he’s definitely just walking, but he’s going too fast for a regular walk. Even when he puts people’s plates down, his movements are really quick but very precise, and I’m in awe at how he does it. He must have been a server before moving here.

  We stay until the restaurant dies down and Felix gets a chance to sit with us for a bit.

  “Good birthday?” he asks.

  “Yes, except I didn’t get any cake.”

  “Oh shit, I totally forgot!” He immediately gets up and leaves.

  “Oh,” I say to Angela, slightly confused. “He didn’t have to leave…”

  But then he comes back with a slice of Reese’s Cup cheesecake with a sparkler in it. I clap my hands softly in front of me as I watch him place it on the table, and then I look up at him and smile. Back to the sparkler in my cake. Back to Felix.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know it would take this long to go out,” he says.

  “That’s okay,” I reply. “But you have to stay here and awkwardly watch it with me.”

  He huffs and sits down again, and Angela smiles, raising her eyebrows at me.

  “So, it’s still going, eh?” he says.

  “Yeah, sparklers will do that,” I say.

  “At least it’s pretty.”

  “Yes, it does have that going for it.”

  “You should take it out and wave it around,” Angela suggests.

  “Don’t-” Felix holds out his hand to stop me before I even move. “Don’t do that. Sparklers are for outdoors if you’re going to wave them around.”

  “Yeah, Angela,” I say. “They’re only for cakes if you want them indoors.”

  The sparks finally get to the bottom and fizzle out and the three of us clap and say yay together. 

  “That was fun,” I say with a smile. “Thanks for the magical sparkler and the cake that’s also sort of my name.”

 

  We go back to Angela’s for about an hour for Bingsu, which is a Korean version of shaved ice. It’s a dessert made of shaved frozen milk, fruit, and sweetened condensed milk. Her husband’s family is Korean and he made it for us the first time I met him, when they first started dating, probably to try and impress me. He said it was the way his grandma makes it, and I always bug him to make it again but he says he’s too lazy to make the ice for it. I guess he isn’t too lazy to do it for my birthday! Ha! We put strawberries and kiwi pieces on our desserts and drizzle the condensed milk over top, but what I can’t get over is how Josh gets the frozen milk shavings to be so fluffy. It’s so delightful.

  Angela drives me back to the office since my car is still parked there, and she waits with her lights on until I’m in my car with the doors locked. I drive home with a smile. Usually something disappointing happens on my birthdays, and I end up crying at some point, but today was good. My coworkers got me a card and a box of Reese’s Pieces (everyone thinks they’re being clever when they do this, but I don’t mind because yum), so that was fun, and nothing annoying ended up happening workwise. All the clients I dealt with were pleasant and the work day went by fast. Even the weekend leading up to it was good. The party was so much fun, and I hardly even had a hangover on Sunday. Maybe thirty will be super excellent. 

 

    Felix and I text back and forth throughout the rest of the week, but nothing big. Silly little things, like funny things people say at work, or random thoughts that pop into our heads. But on Friday night, our random little texts turn into a conversation and it’s almost two in the morning before I realize how long we’ve been texting for.

   I should go to bed I finally say. I didn’t realize how late it was.

   Or we could go for a walk.

   A walk at 2am? I ask.

   What’s wrong with walking at 2am? I much prefer the moonlight anyway.

   Alright then. Where should I meet you?

   I’ll come to you. I don’t want you out on your own this late.

  I tell him my address and he’s buzzing my apartment in less than fifteen minutes. I run to the washroom and look in the mirror to make sure my hair isn’t a mess, which it is, so I run to the intercom and tell him I’ll be down shortly. I brush through my hair quickly and grab a Qtip to fix my raccoon eyes. Should I brush my teeth? Do I have horrible breath? It’s 2am, I probably have horrible breath. I brush them really fast and then head down to the apartment lobby to meet him. He’s got jeans and a blue pullover hoodie on, and he’s standing with his hands in the kangaroo pocket. 

  “Oh shoot,” I say, “I should get a sweater.”

  “Oh sure.”

  “You can come up if you want.”

  He grins and follows me to the elevator. We’re quiet as we wait for the doors to open and we’re quiet when we step inside together. I’m not sure why I suddenly feel awkward around him, but I hope he doesn’t feel it oozing out of me. 

  “So,” I finally say.

  “So.”

  But then the lights flicker and there’s a big screeching sound, followed by the elevator coming to an abrupt halt. I almost fall over, and reach my arms beside me, grabbing for the wall, and well, Felix, I guess. I grab onto his bicep and he immediately reaches out and grabs my hand.

  “Oh my god,” I say, already feeling like I’m out of breath.

  “We’re okay,” he says calmly. 

  “What if the elevator plummets?” The panic is crawling up my throat. 

  “It’s not going to plummet.” 

  “What if we’re stuck in here and no one knows we’re here? What if we run out of air?”

  “We’re not going to run out of air.”

  “How do you know that? You don’t know that, Felix!”

  “Okay, I’ll stop breathing if you want. I’ll let you have all the air.”

  “Right, and then I’ll be in here with a dead body. Sounds fun.”

   “Oh you have no idea.” He grins, but I’m just confused. Maybe he’s confusing me on purpose to make me stop panicking. But then the idea of him trying to stop me from panicking makes me panic more and now I can’t breathe. My chest is closing up and my heart is thumping against my ribcage and I’m dizzy and I can’t -

  “Reese,” Felix says quietly. “Reese, it’s okay. Look at me.”

  I look into his grey eyes but I’m still trying to catch my breath and I can feel tears stinging my eyes. He reaches over and grabs my other hand and spins me so that we’re completely facing each other instead of standing side-by-side. 

  “Take in a deep breath,” he whispers.

  “I can’t-”

  He nods. “Yes you can. I’ll do it with you. Okay? Come on, deep breath in.” He breathes in through his nose and I watch his chin raise a little as he does it, so I try my best to match him.

  “Good,” he says. “Hold it for a few seconds.”

  I hold my breath and keep looking into his eyes. They’re so calm and soft, and I don’t want to look away.

  “Okay, out through your mouth,” he says.

  I let my breath out and am glad that I decided to brush my teeth. He lets his out too, and he smiles.

  “Again,” he says gently, taking another deep breath in.

  We stand in the elevator breathing together, and I don’t even feel weird about it. I feel safe. We take about five more deep breaths together, and each time we exhale, I feel a little better.

  “Good,” Felix says. “Your heart isn’t racing so much anymore.”

  “How do you know?” I ask.

   “Uh- Because you’re calmer.” He quickly lets go of my hands and leans towards the door, where he pushes a red emergency button. He steps back and huffs a little, then presses the button again. “Is something supposed to happen?” he asks.

  “I don’t know, I’ve never been stuck in an elevator before.”

  “I feel like there should be an alarm, or a beep or something so that we know it worked.”

  I shrug at him, trying to stay calm, but my nerves are just coming back at full force. A whine comes from above us, and I swear the elevator drops us a bit. It moves and then shakes and I almost fall over again.

  “Oh my god we’re going to die!” 

  Felix pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my back. “We’re not going to die. Here.” 

  He lets go of me and turns back towards the doors, puts his fingers in between them, and starts prying them open! With his fingers! He hardly even grunts as he does it, it’s like he’s opening a sliding door into someone’s backyard! We’re just under a floor, so there’s concrete in front of us, and the floor above our heads.

  “Great, we can just climb out,” he says.

  “Excuse me? No way. With my luck, I’ll be pulling myself up and the elevator will plummet and cut me in half.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “How do you just know things?” I ask. “Huh? You know that Snappy Jacks aren’t a real shot, and that my heart rate slowed down, and that the elevator just isn’t going to plummet? How?”

“Okay, I guess I don’t know that the elevator won’t plummet, but it probably won’t. And in the time we’ve spent discussing it, we could have climbed out. We’d be out by now.” He reaches his hands up to the floor above us, and pulls himself up and out of the elevator like he’s climbing out of a pool. He lies down on his stomach and comes close to the opening, putting his hand in for me to grab onto.

“Um, no,” I say. “I’ll just stay in here until it’s working again.”

  Felix sighs and looks down one end of the hallway, down the other, and then gets up. But then he puts his hands under the frame of the elevator, between the doors, and starts lifting the elevator. He just lifts it like he’s lifting a box of pillows over his head, and I stare at him in wonder, horror, I don’t even know, until the floor of the elevator is close enough to the actual floor for me to get out really easily. He wipes his palms together a few times to get the dust off and then grabs my hand, helping me step up and out.

  I stare at him.

  He stares at me.

  We’re still holding hands.

  The elevator dings behind me and I hear the doors finish opening and then shut. The elevator dings again and I turn a little to see the doors opening again, to reveal the now normal, working elevator.

  I turn back to Felix, my hand still in his.  “What the fuck was that?”

 

III

III

 

 

   Felix drops my hand and runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up. He looks at the ground and then back at me, and then he just. Shrugs. He just shrugs! He pulled an elevator up with his hands and he just shrugs? 

  “That wasn’t nothing that just happened,” I say. “You can’t just shrug. What the fuck? What the actual fuck, Felix?”

  “Shh.” He grabs both my hands and pulls me a little closer to him. “It’s late; people are sleeping.”

  “Then you have to tell me what the hell that was,” I whisper.

  “It was me lifting the elevator so you could get out. I don’t know. It wasn’t as heavy as I thought it would be.”

  “Excuse me? It wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be?” I pull my hands from his grasp and start making my way to the stairwell. 

  “Where are you going?” he asks, following me.

  “To my apartment.” I slam the stairwell door open and let it shut behind me, but Felix grabs it before it’s completely closed.

  “Oh we’re taking the stairs, are we?”

  “Well I’m not getting back in that death trap!”

  “Fair enough. What floor do you live on?”

“The eighth.”

  “Cool.”

  He stays a few stairs behind me the whole way up, and the entire time I try to think of something to say. I can’t think of anything to say. He doesn’t even look that built; there’s no way he did what he just did. He is a little taller than me, but height has nothing to do with strength!

I imagined it. That’s what happened. The elevator was working before I stepped out, but I was so delirious with nerves that I thought he was the one pulling it up, but really it just did it on its own. And he’s not making a big deal out of it because … I don’t know why. If he didn’t actually pull the elevator up, he would have said “I didn’t pull the elevator up, Reese, you’re imagining things.” Unless he’s just going along with what I saw because he doesn’t want me to feel like I’m losing my mind, or because he doesn’t want me to be embarrassed about thinking I saw him lift the elevator with his bare hands.

Oh my, this is a lot.

  I have to stop near the top to grab onto the railing and put a hand on my knee. I suddenly can’t breathe again. Felix comes up beside me and puts a hand gently on my back.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I shake my head, but say nothing.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Reese. I don’t know what happened, either. I just thought I would try it, and I could do it.”

  I take a couple deep breaths, nod once, and continue up the stairs.

  “Why are you mad at me?”

  We make it to my floor and I exit the stairwell and start making my way down the hall.

  “Reese.”

  “It’s late, Felix, people are sleeping.”

  I want to say he jogs to catch up to me, but he just walks faster, somehow with it still looking like he’s walking at a regular pace. Like you know when someone walks faster than normal, they actually move differently. But Felix doesn’t. He just goes on fast forward, like he was doing at the restaurant. 

  “Reese,” he says. “Reese, I don’t understand what’s happening.”

  I make it to my apartment and unlock my door. I turn to him before opening it and sigh. “Neither do I. I’m not mad. I’m just. I don’t know. That was weird. Don’t you think that was weird?”

“Yeah, for sure. But I mean… Like I said, it wasn’t that heavy. Or maybe it was already working and it just looked like I lifted it.”

  “No, it would have lifted faster than that if it was working.”

  “I don’t know, but maybe the mechanisms helped me somehow.”

  “I don’t really feel like going for a walk anymore,” I say quietly. “But you can come in for a bit if you want. I have peanut butter butter tarts.”

  “That sounds amazing.”

 

  We take our shoes off once we get inside and I grab the butter tarts from the fridge. I put one on a little plate for each of us, and walk into the living room to find Felix admiring the rats.

  “These little guys are cute,” he says, turning to me and taking his butter tart.

  “They’re girls,” I correct. “Hazel Grace and April May.”

  “Why do they each have two names?”

  I put my butter tart down on the coffee table and lift both of my rats out of their little home and place them on the floor to run around.

  “Don’t you need to put them in those little ball things?”

  “One question at a time, Felix,” I say with a laugh.

  “Okay but seriously.”

  I shrug. “If I had a bigger place or other pets I might put them in those ball things, but they’re fine.”

  “Well they’re really cool.”

  “Of course they’re cool,” I say with a bit of a grin. “That’s why I named them after two cool girls written by two cool men.”

  “Um. Okay?”

   I wave him off and try to change the subject. “So, you much prefer the moonlight, eh?” I ask.

   Felix smirks. “It’s quieter.”

  “The light is quieter? Or you just think nighttime is quieter?”

 “Both. But no, I mean the light. It’s a soft glow instead of a bright light, I dunno.” He shrugs. “I like the soft glow of moonlight. It’s calming.” He sits on the couch so I do too.

 “Okay,” I say, nodding. “And do you like working as a server?”

 “I like the tips. And I like that most of my shifts start later in the day. I actually used to work at a bar so I would start much later. I wouldn’t get home until close to four in the morning. That was the best.”

  “But the night is over by the time you get home.”

  “Almost. But on my days off I have the whole night. I mean most people prefer the day, right? And they all work during it. The day’s almost over by the time they get home.”

  I smile at him. “That’s true.”

  He finally takes a bite of his butter tart and his eyes widen. “Wow, this is amazing. Did you make these?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “It’s kind of my specialty.”

 “Really. Is it like, your thing? Do you want to open a bakery or something?”

  “No, I just like doing it for fun. And for eating.” I take a bite of mine. “But butter tarts are my favourite, which is weird because there’s no chocolate in them. I mean unless I make ones with chocolate, but you know what I mean.”

  “So chocolate’s your weakness, then? Chocolate and butter tarts?”

   I smile and nod. “What’s yours?”

  “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he says with a grin.

  My eyes bulge a little but then he continues talking. “Sorry, that wasn’t funny. Maybe I’m a little nervous. The pastry is amazing, by the way. It’s probably the flakiest, most amazing pastry I’ve ever had.”

   “Like I said. My specialty.” I smile at him and take a big bite of my butter tart. “But also thanks.” I can feel myself blushing so I look away.

 

  Angela comes over on Saturday night and we put on a movie but just end up talking the whole time.

  “So what’s going on with you and that Felix guy?” she asks.

  “The same thing as the last time you asked.” I grab some popcorn out of the bowl we’re sharing.

  “But do you like him now?”

  “Angela, I’ve known him for a week.”

  “Right.”

    I feel the corner of my mouth curl up. “I know you’re worried about me.”

  “I’m not worried about you,” she says quickly. “I’m just…” she sighs. “I want you to be happy but I also don’t want you to avoid possibly having a relationship with someone who could be really good for you just because of your exes.”

  “I’m not doing that,” I assure her. “Yeah, I’m a little wary about starting a new relationship, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I want to get to know him before I jump into anything. Build trust. Friendship. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know. I get it. I’m sorry if it feels like I’m pushing this on you. I don’t mean to. You’ve just been very avoidant of dating for so long and I don’t want you to be alone just because someone else fucked up your relationship.”

  “Being alone doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” I say. “As long as I’m not lonely.”

  “Are you lonely?”

  I smile at her. “No.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  “I have my-”

 She cuts me off. “Your only reason for not being alone can’t be your rats named after book characters.”

  “Why not? I love them.”

  “What are you going to do when they die in a year?”

  “Cry,” I say quietly. “And then maybe get a chinchilla.”

  “Reese,” Angela whines.

  “Angie,” I whine back.

  “Fine,” she huffs. “As long as you promise you’re okay.”

  “I promise I’m okay.” I lean into the couch behind me and curl up on my side so I’m facing her completely. “Ugh, but I do miss having someone to cuddle with on the couch. Or having someone to sleep next to. Someone who isn’t a dick, I mean.”

Angela nods in a super serious way that it’s almost funny. “Right, of course.”

  “I’m totally happy just being me without a boyfriend, but I do miss having someone to be close to.”

  “You can be close to me!”

  “Okay!” I move closer to her and she puts her arm around me. “Oh wait, I didn’t tell you about the elevator!” I scooch back again to tell her the story.

  “The elevator?”

  “Yeah! So Felix and I were going to go for a walk last night, but when he got here I realized I might need a sweater, so he came with me to get one, which, like, good thing, because then it got stuck! And I almost had a panic attack, and then he opened the doors with his bare hands and got out! But then! BUT THEN! He lifted the elevator up because it wasn’t lined up with the floor!”

  “What do you mean he lifted the elevator up?”

  “Like he put his hands under the top part of the doorway and just… lifted it until it was out of his reach.”

  “I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

  “I mean he lifted the elevator, Angela!”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know! And he wasn’t even amazed at himself for it. He was all ‘no big deal’ and just shrugging and stuff!”

  “Is he ripped?”

  “I mean I haven’t seen him with a shirt off or anything, but I didn’t think so. He’s a little skinny.”

  “A little skinny means he’s probably ripped.”

  “Well he must be. Because he lifted a fucking elevator.”

 

 

IV

 IV

 

 

 

  I have done some research. Felix texts to me on Monday night.

  Have you? What kind of research?

  Hazel Grace Lancaster research.

  Felix! Did you read The Fault in Our Stars??

Read it? No. I watched a movie?

  Ah. Fair. That makes a little more sense, I guess. It takes more time to read a book than it does to watch a movie.

  For sure. He types more but then stops a few times until he finally says, I did a little crying.

  Aww. Research my other rat’s name. It’ll make you feel better.

  Will it? Are you sure about that?

  Yes. It’s very excellent.

 

  On Wednesday night, Felix texts me again. I researched your other rat’s name but there is no movie for me to watch

  What are you going to do about that? I reply

  Well I did look up a bunch of spoilery reviews and I think that you might have been lying to me when you said it would make me feel better

  What makes you say that? I ask. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing always makes me feel better. Carl makes me feel better. Maybe I’ll name my next pet Carl. Carl is good people.

  From what I’ve read, Carl is not people

  Read the book and get back to me. And then I add a winking emoji.

  I’m assuming these are favourite books of yours? he asks.

 Two of many I reply. But the characters are very human and real to me. They kind of remind me what it’s like to be human sometimes. They make me feel less alone.  

  And so you named your rats after them.

  Yeah. It’s stupid.

   It’s not stupid he replies. Not stupid at all.

 

  Felix and I keep texting throughout the rest of the week, and I sort of hope we can hang out again on the weekend but he’s probably working. I guess Carter’s isn’t open super late, and he could be working the lunch shift. I know I can just ask him, but I’m afraid. I don’t want him to think I want to date him or something. Instead I decide to play it cool and actually go to Carter’s to get a takeout pizza for myself on Friday night. 

  I see him taking two pizzas to a table when I walk in, and he sees me right away and gives me a little nod. I wait at the front, and in less than two minutes he meets me at the front podium.

  “Did you come by yourself?” he asks.

  “Yeah I just thought I’d take a pizza home.”

  “Oh nice. You got anything else planned?”

  “No. Probably just going to watch Twilight.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me. “Really?”

  “No.” I laugh and he chuckles a little. “I’ll definitely just be watching TV, though. You should come hang out when you’re done your shift. You know, if you want.” That was too forward, wasn’t it? He’s going to think I want to date him.

  “Sure, sounds fun.”

  He puts my pizza order in and I wait awkwardly at the front of the little restaurant as he and the other server working tonight run around and get people their food and open new bottles of wine for them. I watch Felix as he works, and I can’t help but continue to assess the way he’s walking. He only does his weird fast forward thing when he’s dealing with the food. If it doesn’t look like he really has anything to do, he walks at a normal speed.  He brings me my pizza fifteen minutes later, at a normal pace, and I run out of the restaurant a little too quickly. Except that my body definitely moves like a person trying to move faster. Felix’s doesn’t. It’s weird.

 

  I take the stairs up to my apartment; I’ve been taking them all week, and I know my pizza won’t be quite as hot by the time I get up there, but I’m not taking any chances. Especially by myself. I stream a few Corner Gas episodes, but my mention of Twilight earlier is making me want to watch it. I feel embarrassed just thinking it, so instead I decide to make chocolate chip cookies.

  But once they’re done, I sit on the couch with a few of them and search for Twilight on Netflix. I can’t help it. I don’t care how bad it is, once someone mentions Twilight even semi-seriously, I have to watch it. I was obsessed with it in high school and it has a special place in my heart. It must be done.

  Felix buzzes my apartment less than halfway through the movie so I let him in but tell him not to use the elevator.

  “Is it broken again?” he asks.

  “No but it might break on you, you never know!”

  “I think I’ll be okay.” I can hear him laugh. 

  He knocks once and then comes in slowly. I say hi to him from the living room but don’t get up from the couch. I’m trying to play it cool.

  “So you ended up watching Twilight.” He sits next to me on the couch but keeps a bit of a distance and I wonder if he’s also trying not to make me think he wants to date me, or if he actually for sure doesn’t want to date me. Do guys think this sort of thing too?

 “I wasn’t actually going to, but then because I mentioned it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I haven’t seen it in a really long time. But we can put something else on.”

 He picks up Hazel Grace from the couch next to him and cradles her in his hands. She sniffs him and crawls up his arm, her dark grey fluff disappearing into his t-shirt sleeve. “No, it’s okay, I’m actually kind of interested,” he says with a bit of a giggle, probably because of Hazel. “I’ve never really been a fan of vampire stuff, but now I’m curious.”

  “Okay so wait, when you say you’re not a fan of vampire stuff is that because you’ve watched some of it before but didn’t like it? Or you’ve never been interested and so you’ve never seen a vampire movie?”

  “Uh, the second one. Do I smell cookies?”

  “Yes, they’re on the kitchen counter.”

“Excellent.” He gently pulls my rat out of his shirt and hands her to me, then gets up and disappears into the kitchen. I get up too, and put both Hazel and April back in their pen beside the TV.

  “So you’ve never even seen, like, Interview with the Vampire?” I ask.

  He comes back with two cookies, already taking a bite out of one, and shakes his head.

  “Dracula anything?” I ask.

  He shakes his head again.

  “This is madness! Do you at least know like, the rules of vampires?”

He laughs. “Yes, Reese, I know the rules. I haven’t really watched vampire movies, but I haven’t been living under a rock.”

  “Do you want to watch a better vampire movie?” I ask as we both sit back down.

  “No, it’s okay. Just catch me up on what’s happening in this one.”

  “No, I think I’ll start it from the beginning. Also just, please, be nice. I was a sixteen-year-old girl when I saw this for the first time, so it hit different for me than it will for you.”

 

  It takes us forever to watch Twilight because Felix keeps asking questions or making comments and we have to keep pausing it. He says he’s interested in this take on vampires and doesn’t want to miss any of it while we talk, but he can’t not ask questions. 

  “Okay but I like the idea that vampires can go out in the sun, like they’re doing, but what if they could go in the sun but just don’t like it?” Felix says. “Like they get really bad sunburns, and it’s too bright for their eyes and makes them nauseated? Are there any vampire stories like that?”

  “Hmm, I don’t think so. In Vampire Diaries, they have magic rings that make them not allergic to the sunlight.”

  “I like this sparkling business. I don’t like that vampires are supposed to just completely burn up or catch on fire in the sun. That doesn’t make any sense. What, just because you live off blood means you can die super easily if you go out at two in the afternoon?”

  “It’s so hard to kill them otherwise, they need to have a weakness.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I say slowly. “Otherwise that’s not realistic.”

  “But literally catching fire in the sun is?”

  “Oh, but sparkling in the sun is okay?” I counter.

  He tilts his head from side to side. “It’s cool. I like that it’s a new idea. Plus all the sixteen-year-old girls probably love it.”

  “Yeah, I can guarantee that.”

  “Okay, so are most vampire movies like this one, where just biting someone will turn them?”

  I shake my head. “It’s different in almost every story.”

  “Which way to turn into a vampire is your favourite?” he

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Nat Cuddington
Bildmaterialien: Laura Kulson
Cover: Laura Kulson
Satz: Laura Kulson
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 16.04.2023
ISBN: 978-3-7554-3891-5

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