“Come on, just tug it!” A giant wave of shuffling, booming noises erupted throughout the area, followed by a throaty grunt. “You’re not doing it right. Harder!”
Four slender arms were outstretched with palms pressed against the door to my house. Next to me, my girlfriend exerted herself with the task of knocking the door open alongside of me. Behind the door was my twit brother, probably barricading himself within my uncle’s home. I said through the wood, “Look, you have thirty seconds before I blow this door in.”
Laughing fell through the surface between us. “As if. Unc would be pissed.”
“I hardly care. He’d understand because he knows how big of a douche you are.”
“Just because I get more action than you…”
“Eric! I’m serious. Open the door.”
“No. Why not settle yourself outside, enjoy the weather.”
It was pouring. My simple cotton shirt wore damp and attached to my skin, but it was nothing like the sight of the girl next to me, a white tank top spoiled with salty water, the fabric gripping at her skin in a very revealing way. She looked nearly as pissed as I felt.
It all started with a simple disagreement. After yesterday’s rendezvous at the park, I invited her over to see where I lived, to get to know me a little better, as she had requested. When I left to retrieve her at college, everything was fine and dandy. But then by some means, my psychotic little brother decided that it meant that he should go through my belongings for some reason and he found an empty carton of Oreo cookies underneath my bed. Yes, they belonged to him and I had spent the previous night ravaging the chocolate creamy delights while viewing a Friends marathon, but he acted as though the unfathomable devastation was treachery—and had decided to lock us out.
Unfortunately, my uncle had taken the car to the shop and was upgrading the engine or some unnecessary nonsense so we really were stuck in the pouring rain until my brother came to his senses. “Come on, I’ll buy you another package.”
“They were my box! Double stuff Oreos. That’s twice the yum and you ate them all. You’re a monster!”
“A monster with cash. I’ll drop a ten on you, that’s more than enough for that damned package.”
Silence. Clicking. The door opened, revealing my boxers and tee clad brother, simply beaming. Taking my girl’s hand, I plowed through the door, tossed a bill at my brother and led the way into my room, bypassing any sensible sort of tour.
Once inside the room, I turned to her. “So that didn’t go as planned.”
“Well, I sure hope you didn't plan that or else I would be suspicious that you just wanted to get me soaked so you could see through my shirt,” she spoke, laughing as she awkwardly wrapped her arms around herself.
“Well...Can't say I mind it. But if you wanna change out of…” I trailed off, entranced, before motioning to her clothing “...that and wear something of mine, I guess I could oblige.”
She looked to me in an unfamiliar way before responding, “I wouldn't want to be bothersome but wet clothes are kind of uncomfortable.”
Smiling, I gathered some of my clothes and directed her to where she could change and soon she was stepping through my bedroom door once more. Her dainty frame was submerged in a large band tee of mine and a pair of jeans that hung too large for her, reminding me of those Chibi characters from my favorite anime shows.
“They're kind of big but they work.” She stepped forward, closing the door behind her.
“I suppose you could say that I'm bigger than most.”
“Actually, you're quite…petite… I guess I'm surprised your clothes even fit, let alone are big.”
I crossed my arms, defensively. “I’m not petite.” I shot her a mock-wounded look, walking towards my bed and away from her.
She approached me and placed a delicate hand upon my shoulder and said, “That’s not what I meant, Gene.” She shook her head, a wicked grin on her face, before she tugged at my arm, directing me to face her. “Don’t be so sensitive.”
“Stop being so mean. I'm a gentle soul! Gentle, I say!”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, before closing the distance between us. “Is there any way I can make up for it?”
I thought I might die at that moment. You know, that surreal “fuck yeah!” kind of death. She was so close, my eyes would wander and see blotches of blue that were so hidden in the browns of her eyes at a distance and the soft hairs that caressed her small features. As I went to reply something so certainly witty and confident, there was a loud crash followed my door being malevolently slammed open. We broke apart. I stared at my brother, with his stupid face and his stupid words falling out his stupid lips. “What the hell do you want?”
“Unc’s on his way home. Thought you might want to jet before he left. Unless you want her to meet him already,” he retorted, looking pointed at my company.
“Okay. Appreciated. Now go.” I said, slamming the door behind his meddling ass. I turned and said, “Do you wanna get out of here with me?”
She shrugged and poked me in my side. “What you don't want me to meet your uncle?”
“It's more that I don't want him to meet you. He's...eccentric.”
“I like eccentric people, I want to meet him.”
“Okay, perhaps eccentric wasn't the word I was looking for... But as you wish.”
“Yay, should I change into...my clothes then? Wouldn't want him to think...I was a floozy or anything.”
“Well, I doubt that they're dry by now. Don't worry about it. He won't say anything.” I blurted, “You're not the first girl to wear my clothing.”
She cocked her eyebrow and inquired, “Oh really? Who else?”
“No, that's not what I mean,” I said, slamming my face into my palm.
“Then tell me what you meant then.”
“Well, you know, I have girl friends too...” I fumbled.
From outside my door, a voice shouted, “Don't listen to him, Aldo, you're the first chick he's had home in at least a year.”
Deadpanned, I spoke, “And that would be my uncle.”
“Make haste, Gene! Introduce us.” She said, running to the door and I hustled to follow.
In the living room, I directed my attention to my balding straight-out-of-the-Seventies uncle, and said, “Unc, this is that girl I was telling you about.”
“Ah, right-o. You must be Aldo, I presume. This kid here is pretty nuts about you.” He leaned in, and jokingly whispered to her, “I only know this ‘cause I’m his friend on Xbox Live. You can hardly tear him away from that thing.”
“Well, if that’s what you want to call me. Maybe now he'll spend a little less time on it.” She turned to me, smiling.
“Hey now, let's not get ahead of ourselves.” Chuckling, I said, “I can multitask.”
“Oh I guess so.” She faced my uncle, “So Mr. uhm…I'm sorry what was your name? I didn't catch it.”
“Phillips. Bobby Phillips. But you can call me Bobby. I'm Earl's mother's brother.”
She smirked, a quirk in her eyebrow, before asking me, “Earl?”
“Not my name. Christ, Unc, I told you not to call me that.”
He sparred, “Oh hush. It’s your birth name, son. Better get used to it.” He turned to my girl and said, “He’s just ashamed. His real name’s Earl Eugene Whitmore. Isn’t that just somethin’ else?”
“I couldn't imagine why, it fits him well.” She laughed, turning to me. “It could be worse, you could have my name.”
“Aldo?”
Confused, she responded, “Huh…Aldo?”
“Your name: Aldo. What’s wrong with that? It’s cute.”
“Wait, what? Aldo is not my name. You mean to tell me you don't know my name?” She replied, taken aback.
I timidly spoke, “That…isn’t your name?”
She snarled, “I can't believe this I'm leaving. Nice meeting you Mr. Phillips, though I'm not sure if you'll see me around again.” She stomped to the door.
“Wait, c'mon. Give me a break! We were fine. You didn't know my name was Earl, so how is this any different?”
From the background, my uncle chirped in, “And so he finally admits he’s Earl…”
“Shut up!” I shot back at him, while chasing after her.
“You never TOLD me your name was Earl. I TOLD you my name the first day we met,” she sneered, her voice rising. “That’s how.”
“Come on, you were just some lost kid that day. How was I supposed to know I'd have to remember your name?”
“Oh so I'm just some kid to you? Why didn't you just ask for my name at the pizza place that day or the beach, god, Gene.” She opened the door, but stood to face me momentarily. “My names Ardor, douche bag, but don't worry about remembering it.” She slammed the door.
“I think I’ll remember it, actually.” My voice was meek against the sound of the television playing in the background and my uncle humming to no one in particular.
It wasn’t until an hour later that I gathered my thoughts and went after her. Once outside, I was glad that the rain had subsided. In its place, a thick fog licked the surfaces of the outside world. I felt like I was on a wicked mission to save the princess or some shit that only amounted to me walking my way to the college dorms and not finding her there.
On my way home, I found her, still dressed in my clothing, kicking at her reflection in a particularly large puddle in the park. “Ardor, I’m sorry,” I softly said.
Avoiding eye contact, she snarled, “Oh, yea you're sorry, I'm sorry I let you have a second chance, when I asked if there was anything else you could have very well said ‘well yea, thing is I DON'T KNOW YOUR NAME.’ or something I would have understood.”
“I thought your name was Aldo...Okay, that was pretty dumb of me, but still how am I supposed remember a name like Ardor?”
“Aldo... it fucking sounds like a guy’s name for one, two sounds way to much like Waldo. I could imagine you all ‘HEY, WHERES ALDO?’ I had no problem remembering Gene, though it wasn't even your real name.”
I winced. “Well Gene is common. Ardor sounds like a flower fairy trip. I mean, give me a break. Am I honestly the first person to have forgotten your name?”
“First, you forget my name. Then you insult it I see and for your information, Ardor means love it also used to be my mother’s name. So bite me Gene you could have just told me the truth in the beginning.”
“Are you trying to be this difficult? I said I'm sorry and I mean it! But honestly, we've only known each other for a few weeks.”
Scoffing, “Goodbye, Earl.”
“My name's not Earl, woman. Damn. You know, I came here to make up with you, but whatever. I did my part. I'm out.” It was my turn to change to leave.
“Obviously you don't really give a shit whether I walk away or not Gene so why should I care if you do?”
I paused. “Obviously I care because I'm here, aren't I?”
“You gave up pretty quick, and if you REALLY cared you would have been here an hour ago, I waited to see if you would show up. I would have forgiven you right away an HOUR ago.”
“So timing and endurance is all you care about, I see. Well, I'm not prince charming, so get over it. I'm here now. Why does anything else matter?”
“Ha, if that’s all I cared about I would have left in the first ten minutes. I was willing to wait ALL NIGHT to see if you showed up.”
I turned again, facing her this time. “Then why are you busy arguing instead of noting that I'm here.”
Looking at me, she said, “I note that you're here but I also note that it took you an hour to decide whether you cared enough to come after me.”
“Traffic was bad,” I solemnly joked.
There was a flash of lightheartedness before it vanished. “Always joking, Gene. Can't you be serious?”
Smugly, “Nope.” I approached her, unsure. “Hug?”
She playfully shoved me, knocking me into the puddle. “Oh no you're not getting off that easily.” She smiled. Progress.
“Oh yeah? Well, I guess I'll have to just get you wet again!” I said, sticking out my tongue as I bent over to splash her with the water.
Squealing from the rush of the cool water, she regained her steadiness and tackled me, sending the two of us into the muddy puddle. Atop of me she batted her catlike lashes and leaned into me, placing a slow kiss on my lips.
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