REND

“See you tonight, Mom. Have a nice flight.” After a second of hesitation, I added, “Love you.”

“Love you too, Erind sweetie. I’m excited to see you and your friend.” The call clicked end.

“That makes one of us,” I grumbled, dragging my feet through the corridor to reach my condo as I carried a crumpled paper bag. “I’m not so excited to see my best friend.”

This was the problem with roommates—if there was a fight or if something embarrassing happened, it was going to be so fucking awkward living together after that. Kissing my friend while I had halitosis? Personally, I didn’t feel embarrassed. But I knew an average person should feel that way. I didn’t have much information or experience to approximate the appropriate reaction.

I blew air onto my hand and sniffed my palm. Nothing smelled.

Deen may have had a different issue with me. I might’ve crossed a line I wasn’t aware of. But what could it be? She was biting my ear; why couldn’t I blow air into her mouth?

Those were both equally weird.

The whole kissing drama returning to me almost pushed Imani and that phone thief out of my mind. Should I tell Deen about what happened? She might go super protective mode and wouldn’t let me leave her sight. That’d make things doubly awkward.

I’m just not going to tell Deen about it.

I stood in front of the door of my condominium unit. The scent of freshly baked bread was enticing. Half my mind was set on kicking out Deen, forgetting about our kiss, and eating in peace. Usually, ignoring things I didn’t understand was my go-to strategy.

Don’t be impulsive, I scolded myself. The face I wore should be making amends: besties and all that. Fine, let’s do this already so I can eat.

Deen was in the living room, curled up in an armchair like a baby. She tucked her legs and feet into the side of an armrest and laid her head on the opposite armrest. She hugged a bright pink throw pillow—Mom’s questionable décor choices.

A news reporter was on TV, talking about the Greaves Tech Fair. Deen started when she heard me approach. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to the TV. Was she still moping like a childish bitch?

If only she had spoken first, I could pick up the conversation.

Oh well, I should be shy after what happened, but also reconciliatory. I could try to find out what was her real issue with me. I didn’t think I had bad breath, but maybe Deen could detect a trace with her princess sensibilities.

“Um, I bought some bread at a nearby bakeshop if you’re hungry.” I stood beside her, presenting the bag of food I had brought. “I mean, even if you’re not hungry, you can eat,” I pretended to stammer shyly. “Hungry or not, I got bread for you.”

Was that a hint of a smile? Though Deen didn’t give any other response.

“Sorry I took some time to return,” I said. The TV was too loud, so I got the remote and lowered the volume. “Lots of people at the store. Even this paper bag got squished during my struggle to get out. Want some?” Coffee or tea would be perfect with this, but I left it behind when I chased the pesky thief.

“Yes, please,” she replied, still looking at the TV.

Instead of sitting on the sofa beside her or the other armchair across the low table, I sat cross-legged on the floor, right in front of Deen’s chair, and leaned against it. This showed I wanted us to be close. Also, with her behind me, she couldn’t see if I made funny faces or rolled my eyes.

“Here’s like a cream cheese bread roll thing,” I said. “Then a swirling bread with glaze, a pink something, probably a strawberry donut, and a roll with filling. I don’t really know their fancy names. I got two of each.”

Deen snickered behind me. I was starting to destroy her shell.

“The strawberry donut, please,” she said.

“Not sure if this is actually a donut.” I picked it out of the bag and offered it to her without looking behind me. I felt her shifting in the chair into a better eating position as she took it. “I just got what looked good,” I truthfully said. I pointed at everything that looked expensive to run up Imani’s bill.

An awkward silence followed as we ate. Like there was the normal silence when eating—because mouths are full, duh—and then there was everyone not knowing what to say. The second type of silence would have mandatory cricket sound effects.

I couldn’t even turn up the TV’s volume, or it’d look like I didn’t want to talk.

“I hope it’s not too sweet,” I said. “I like sweet things.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Can just brush our teeth later.”

“It’s not too sweet. Please give me another one. The swirly bread you mentioned.”

I handed it to her, noting that she didn’t respond to my comment about brushing our teeth. I slipped it in as a convenient way for her to subtly point out my bad breath if I had it. This brought me back to square one, not any closer to finding out her problem with me.

I felt a light sprinkle of something fall on me. “What was that?”

“Oh my gosh! Sorry, Erind!”

“Crumbs?” I twisted to look back at her for the first time since I sat down. Our eyes briefly met, but Deen’s gaze went to the top of my head as she dusted off the crumbs.

“Really sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to. I noticed the crumbs on the pillow and just absentmindedly brushed them off."

"Are you sure you’re not passive-aggressively getting back at me for what I did earlier?”

“What are you talking about?” Deen retreated further into the foam of the armchair as if willing it to envelope her. Too bad she didn’t give any hint about her gripe with me. “I’m not giving back at you for anything. I’m just…um, nothing.” She hugged the pillow tighter and drew her legs closer to her, forming an egg shape with her body.

“You like hugging that pillow, huh?”

“I want to hug things, and it’s either the pillow or you.” Deen blinked. Then she blushed and burrowed her head into the cushy pink. “I mean, like, there are only pillows here, and um, you. But you don’t want—”

Okay, let’s try this one. I turned around and propped my elbows on the edge of her chair, my arms brushing her legs. I looked up at her. “I’ll let you hug me if you won’t be mad at me anymore.”

She looked at the TV. “But I’m not mad at you…” she feebly said. I could barely hear her with the pillow dampening her voice and the TV reporter talking about the police raid on the base of a tech gang.

“You sounded pretty mad earlier.”

“I’m really not.”

“Really, really?” With my pinkie, I scratched her left foot.

She recoiled in surprise. I walked my fingers on her foot. She didn’t pull away.

Her nails were perfectly manicured. I couldn’t see any veins, just perfectly smooth skin. Was this the result of a foot spa or something? I hadn’t tried any foot beautification, whatever.

“Really, really, really,” she said.

“Okay then. I’ll rescind the free hug pass I offered.”

“Don’t need it,” Deen retorted. “Pass or no pass, I’ll hug you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re not the boss of me.” Deen peered over the frilly fringes of the pillow, her muffled voice growing stronger. Her grey eyes met mine. “I’ll hug you whenever I want.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll kick you out.” Don’t give me an excuse to do it.

“You can’t do that. I’m not going to let go of you.”

We both chuckled. I had fixed things without knowing what the fuck was wrong in the first place.

“I know what’ll make you let go of me,” I said, winking at her. “I’ll do that… thing… again.”

“What thing?”

“Earlier, in my room.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her face became monotone, all hints of giggling gone. “If you insert your tongue in my mouth ever again, I’ll bite it off.”

I raised both brows in surprise. So, that’s her problem! Yeah, I could see the issue with it. Maybe she found it disgusting?

“Oh… I was talking about the blowing air thing. Um, sorry about the tongue, my tongue in your—I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just wanted to do to make you look like a pufferfish. Sorry, I didn’t think much about it. I thought it was fine because it was just like CPR…”

“Okay,” was Deen’s only reply. She looked at the TV again.

My progress gone? Oh no, you don’t!

I reached for one of the photo albums under the table and crawled back in front of Deen’s chair. “Hey, Deen. What were you going to ask me about my cheerleading days?”