Amos rang the doorbell and stepped back over the “Llama let you in” doormat. He wrung his hands. The porch light cast his shadow over the llama’s shades. He had shades like that, looked better on the llama though. The gentle thud of socked feet approached the far side of the door. Now would be the time to run, make it all a ~totally sick prank~. Perry opened the door.

“Why’d you ring the doorbell?”

“Your parents aren’t home, so I figured… um.”

“Just knock, normal people knock, Amos.”

She was smiling, her hazel eyes glittered in the porch light. A moth bumped into her face. She flinched as though punched, sending her straightened hair into a crown around her head. It smelled nice, sweet, and floral. Kinda like a familiar shampoo—his sister’s? He immediately regretted the connection. She brushed her hair behind an ear and let him in.

They were horizontal, lips locked together, the TV off. They wormed together in silence as the blanket fell off the couch. A stained green t-shirt was lifted by one set of hands, removed by a second. A stained blue one quickly followed. Then they were still, all but their wandering eyes. She smiled at him, he smiled at the wall. A framed finger painting of a curly-haired fish named “9ery” smiled back.

He’d lost it, the raincoat he’d borrowed. Maybe borrowed wasn’t the right word. His dad had lent him a raincoat—given him a raincoat—which was now missing. He’d had it a second ago, but in a certain moment dropped it. In the couch maybe.

“What are you doing?”

A pause, a hand slid from between the cushions. “Nothing.”

She smiled and pulled him closer. He should place his hands somewhere. Her back was on the couch, so maybe her face. Or maybe her shoulder. Her shoulder blade. Scapula… area? Somewhere. Hurry.

Her head was on his shoulder. He looked at her profile in the dark. “Were you close?”

“I mean…”

“Halfway?”

“This is my favorite part, the after, where we just cuddle.”

“Huh.” If you could call it after.

“Don’t worry about it.” She wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s just cuddle.”

Because that’s why he was there. To cuddle.

They moved to her bed, but it was cold. She closed the window and grabbed a blanket.

“I’m a cover hog.” She offered it with an indifferent shrug and got under her sheets.

He climbed in next to her and put his arm under her head. She accepted it but lay on her back, her arms crossed tight against her chest. He felt the urge to stroke her hair.

“Do you like me?”

“You wanna be offi—what?” He stared at her, waiting for the laugh.

“Well, I know you don’t love me.”

“I mean, I never said—”

“It’s okay, I don’t love you.”

“Should I go?”

“No, it’s just, well, I can’t read you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re hard to read. I can’t tell what you want, like, under it all.” She turned her head slightly, looked out the corner of her eye.           

“I like you. I don’t know, I mean you’re great. You’re smart and pretty.”

“I knew it.” She turned over, away from him.

“What?”

“You’re imagining me.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Those aren’t real reasons to like someone.”

“What? Yes, they are.”

“Not really. You’re only here—”

“No! I like you! I mean it’s not like part of the reason isn’t… um, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“Also I was just nervous, really. Like, I want to try again. I think it’ll work if I relax.” His stomach tightened.

“Right, of course.” She turned onto her side, away from him.

He retracted his arm and looked down at her. She met his gaze, held it until he looked away. He sat there a moment, focusing hard on a tear in the sheet. He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“You going?”

“Home, yeah.”

“Okay.”

He pulled his jeans on. “You don’t care about me either.” She turned and faced him. He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair, looked at her motionless lips. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

When Amos left, Perry sighed. He didn’t slam the door and she didn’t tell her friends. He didn’t text her, but she wasn’t surprised. When she didn’t text him, he figured he was right.

– Eli D’Albora