Theo

Gift

It was after I’d climbed into bed that it really sunk in what had happened.  Or, what was happening.

    Phil curled up on the floor with the spare comforter and pillow while I lay there, staring at his covered back in the darkness.  He’s in love with me?  I gnawed on my cheek, thinking about what that would even mean.  Mom and Dad are in love.  They’re so lovey dovey it’s gag-worthy sometimes.  But they’re normal, really.  A male and female living in the suburbs, popping out kids working jobs that are mundane but provide.  Normal.

    Phil is a guy.

    How many times have I changed in front of him?

    I frowned, realizing I didn’t.  Or at least, he never looked.  I’d always thought it was weird, the way he always ducked his head, looking away when I’d pull my shirt off.  Even at school in the locker rooms, he changed in the bathroom stall.  I’d noticed but only because I needed his body spray after hitting the showers.  That actually explained why he’d struggled talking to me when I’d approached him in nothing but a towel a couple weeks ago.

    If Chelsea approached me in nothing but a towel, I’d probably be tongue tied too.

    So I’m his Chelsea?

    I tried to imagine what that would mean.  He wants to . . . do things with me?  To me?  How does that work?  Two guys.  I thought about Harrison, over top of Phil, kissing him.  Is that what Phil wanted . . . but with me?  I rolled onto my back, pressing my palms to my face.  It’s weird, right?  Him looking at me like that.  Thinking about those things.  For how long?

    He’d said since the sixth grade.  Since before we even met.

    Phil liked me the moment he saw me?

    So then why was he so evasive in the beginning if he liked me?  I mean, shouldn’t he have been chasing me around?  But he’s so shy.  He was always so shy, wasn’t he?

    My mind was reeling.  I had so many questions and Phil chose to just go to sleep.  Just like that.  I turned to glare at his back, willing him to wake up, but he didn’t budge, didn’t move.  Bastard.

    Who could sleep after dropping a bomb like that?

. . .

Phil acted like nothing happened.

    The next morning we ate pancakes with the family and I found myself watching him eat while he purposely ignored me, carefully taking the seat next to Violet who seemed happy with his presence.  A strange bond between those two.  I narrowed my eyes as I chewed, finally glaring down at my plate.  Should I treat him like a girl?  He cries so much.  So sensitive.  Glancing back up at him, I took in his soft smile as he laughed, eyes caught on Violet who was nudging him.  Phil is . . . good looking, I guess.  He’s dainty, small—that’s probably why he wasn’t super popular with the girls.  His size.  If he were taller, more confident he’d probably get a lot of female attention.  Hell, he’s probably Chelsea’s type considering she’s with that Leo guy who is studious, head always stuck in a book.  Smart guys.  Phil was that type.  When he glanced over at me, his smile slipped a little, eyes dropping to his plate.  What is that?  Shouldn’t he smile wider looking at me?  Shouldn’t he be trying to talk to me?  Keep my attention?  I mean, I’m his crush, right?

    I took another bite of my pancakes, trying not to feel annoyed with him.  Maybe he should be gay, I found myself thinking.  Slender, petite, dainty—he had that cutesy boyband kind of look now that I was really taking the time to give him a once over.  His blonde hair was longer, falling almost into his eyes, and his lashes were always long, his full lips forming a perfect pink bow.

    He was pretty, right?

    Yeah, he’d probably punch me if I called him pretty.

    Scratching at the back of my neck, I decided to stop thinking about it.  Calling him pretty.  It’s weird.  It was true, I thought as I shoveled pancakes into my mouth, but f*****g weird.

. . .

    Phil went missing while we were all in the living room so I went upstairs and found him digging around in my room.  “The f**k are you doing?”

    He looked back at me, expression one of guilt as he tucked something in his pocket.  “Nothing.”

    Right.  Nothing.  “Give it to me,” I said, holding my hand out.  What the hell was he doing?  Stealing from me?  Was he like those girls who steal clothes from their crushes?

    “No,” he said, shaking his head.

    “Phil.”  I closed the space between us easily and he tried to back away but my hand went down his pocket, finding what he’d stolen.  I realized what it was even before I pulled back to look at it.

    “They’re mine,” he muttered, glaring up at me.

    The stupid earbuds.  I frowned, glaring back down at him.  He tried to snatch them from my hand but I’m considerably taller, just holding it up above my head.  “Just . . . here.”  I turned my back to him, reaching under my bed to pull out a package.  “I’m not much for wrapping,” I said, pushing it into his hands.  His expression was one of confusion as I muttered, “Merry Christmas.”

    Phil’s eyes widened.  “For me?”

    I rolled my eyes, taking a seat on my bed, watching as he fumbled around a bit before pulling open the box.  “Oh.”  Ear buds.  They had the Naruto symbol on them.  Who knew Violet would buy the same damn thing?

    “If you prefer Violets’—“

    “No.”  He was beaming.  “I didn’t think you’d—“

    “You’re my best friend,” I muttered, frowning up at him.

    His smile slipped a little but he nodded.  “Yeah.  That’s true.”

    “So where’s my present?” I asked, frowning.

    “I spent all my money on mom’s present,” he muttered guiltily.

    I huffed.  “Some best friend you are.”

    “I’m sorr—“

    “I’ll settle for rice and beans,” I offered.  “Maybe that coconut stuff you make.”

    “Tembleque?” he wondered.

    “That,” I agreed, grinning up at him.  That stuff was awesome.

    He chuckled quietly.  “Okay.”

    “Okay.”

    He just kind of stood there awkwardly—too awkward for my taste—before scratching the back of his neck muttering, “I’m going to head home with mom.”

    “Oh.  Okay.”  I shrugged, not sure what to say.

    He smiled.  “Okay.”

    Too many okay's.  Why was this so weird?  I took in the way he wasn't looking at me anymore, smiling down at the present I gave him.  He really like it.  “So. . .”

    “I’ll see you around,” he muttered.  “Thanks for the headphones.”

    As he headed out of the room, I called, “Don’t forget my Trem-whatever-it's-called!”

    I heard him laugh.  “I won’t!”