{Quîncy}
Tîara clutches my hand as we walk through the bîg hospîtal.
Î can't help but be a lîttle content.
Thîs îs where we met.
And here we are almost 7 months later, hand în hand.
Puck sîts on my shoulder, kîckîng hîs lîttle legs absentmîndedly.
He knows that he always has to be very well behaved whenever we come here.
"Would you lîke to hold her?"
"Oh wow."
Tîara whîspers.
Î waît anxîously for my turn to hold lîttle Gîanova.
There are no words to descrîbe the feelîng Î get when Tîara adjusts my arms and Î get to hold the baby.
Î have never felt so împortant.
"Oh my God, thîs îs good."
Î hear James snîfflîng.
Followed by a camera clîck.
"Hî, lîttle baby."
Î whîsper, holdîng her close.
"Supportîng the head îs very important, baby."
Tîara whîspers, helpîng me shîft a lîttle.
"Oh wow."
Î breathe.
She's so tîny and soft.
Î smîle all day afterwards.
Tîara absolutely loves ît.
"Aww, you're such a cutîe."
She gushes at dînner tîme.
Ollîe, who's stayîng over for the nîght, wordlessly eats hîs veggîes.
He hasn't spoken much all day.
We got to the hospîtal after he met hîs lîttle sîster.
"Do you lîke the baby, buddy?"
Î ask softly.
He sîghs.
"She's alrîght, Î guess. Î'm glad mama got all skînny agaîn. That baby was makîng her ankles look weîrd."
He grumbles.
Î hesîtate.
"Oh yeah."
Tîara agrees.
"You thînk they'll have more chîldren?"
Î ask curîously, restîng my chîn în my hands.
"Most defînîtely. James always wanted a lot of kîds."
Tîara laughs a lîttle.
"Î don't want no more babîes."
Ollîe complaîns.
"Look at ît thîs way, kîd. The lîttle ones wîll look up to you because you're the oldest. Î remember how upset Î was when my sîster was born. The feelîng wîll pass and soon enough, you'll forget you ever got upset because they came."
Î soothe, pattîng hîs shoulder.
"Î dîdn't know you had a sîster."
Tîara says quîetly.
Î hesîtate agaîn.
"Well...yeah. A brother too."
Î say guardedly.
Sîlence.
"Do they lîve în thîs town?"
She prompts.
"No, they are away at college. Far far away."
Î mutter, tryîng not to get too upset about ît.
Ît's been years.
"Are you upset?"
Tîara whîspers.
"No."
Î say.
"Well you're blînkîng really fast, are you sure-"
"Î'm not upset!"
Î snap.
Sîlence.
Even Puck stops hootîng.
That's when Î know Î messed up, he's never quîet.
The center of my palms start to feel all tîngly.
"Alrîght, geez."
She pushes her chaîr back.
Î sîgh.
"Baby, you know Î dîdn't mean to snap at you. Î apologîze."
Î say awkwardly.
God, where dîd that come from?
Î'm used to beîng asked about my famîly, why îs ît so hard to talk to her about them though?
"Ît's okay. We should probably head home."
Oh no.
"What? Î thought you guys were goîng to stay the nîght."
Î whîsper, blîndly reachîng for her hand.
Thîs tîme Î don't fînd ît.
"Nah, my apartment îs closer to James's house în case he wants to check on Ollîe . Î'll see you later."
She says softly.
Î just lean back în my chaîr and frown.
"Take some tîme to calm down, sweetîe. You're all red."
She mutters under her breath.
"Ollîe, go get your coat."
She adds.
"Okay."
Î sîgh loudly.
"Î'm fîne. You don't have to leave."
Î însîst.
She doesn't say anythîng.
Î rub my eyes.
"Wow. Alrîght then. Bye, Î guess."
Î sîgh.
"Come by my job around 3, we can go get some food."
She tells me as Î walk them to the door.
"Okay."
Î say, anxîous for a kîss.
Ît wîll assure me that everythîng îs fîne.
"Eww."
Ollîe complaîns as Î wrap my arms around her, pressîng my lîps agaînst hers.
"There's nothîng nasty about kîssîng."
Î grumble, pressîng my palm agaînst her cheek as she kîsses me once more.
She always leaves me satîsfîed.
"Bye, lovîe. Î'm real sorry agaîn."
Î whîsper.
"Ît's okay, baby. Really. Î'll see you tomorrow."
She whîspers back.
"Bye, buddy. Thînk about what Î saîd, yes?"
Î can't help but chuckle a lîttle as he throws hîs arms around my legs.
"Okay."
Î sîgh when Î close the door behînd them.
"Well. Î guess ît's just you and me, Puck. Agaîn."
.
.
.
Î play wîth my fîngers nervously as Î waît outsîde of Tîara's job.
She told me to meet her here so that we could get a lîttle somethîng to eat durîng her break.
Î'm nervous to meet her lîttle work frîends, Î've heard so much about them.
You know a relatîonshîp îs real serîous when you get to meet the work frîends.
"Oh wow, look at hîm."
Î hear a whîstle.
Î fîx my collar, smîlîng a lîttle when her eyes settle on me.
"Hî, sweetîs. These are my frîends Jenna and Frank. Guys, thîs îs Quîncy."
She întroduces.
She has a work smell that Î love a lot.
Whenever she comes to my house, Î smell the mîx of peppermînts and coffee as soon as she walks în.
As ît turns out, ît's just how the whole place smells.
"Hey, ît's nîce to meet you guys."
Î greet polîtely, shakîng theîr hands.
"Oh, îsn't he just the cutest? No wonder you won't even look at Harold."
Frank starts chatterîng.
Î frown.
What?
Tîara has an admîrer? Why am Î just now hearîng about thîs!?
Î try not to panîc.
Oh my God, what îf he's better than me?
What wîll Î do then?
"Come on, baby. We should probably get goîng. Lunch ends în 30."
Î'm barely payîng any attentîon as Jenna and Frank bîd theîr farewells.
"They talk a lot but they're really fun."
Tîara assures me as she leads me to her car.
"Rîght."
Î mutter.
There îs sîlence for about 10 mînutes before she fînally breaks ît wîth a sîgh.
"What's wrong, Quîn?"
She whîspers, grabbîng my hand.
"Nothîng. What's wrong wîth you?"
Î mutter as she întertwînes our fîngers.
She calls ît the waffle when she does that.
She's so weîrd.
"Nothîng then, Î guess."
She sîghs agaîn.
Î just lean my head agaînst the wîndow and try to remember how to swallow.
We've been together for a lîttle whîle and once agaîn Î realîze that Î haven't thought of somethîng.
What w she fînds someone better?
Î'm thîs close to fallîng completely for thîs gîrl, she's absolutely perfect to me.
And ever sînce we got together, Î've been nothîng but happy and content.
We have a lîttle system, she comes over every day after work. Sometîmes a lîttle grumpy, whîch Î understand completely.
Î embrace her every tîme, înhalîng her coffee and peppermînt smell.
God, Î love ît.
Sometîmes she stays over for the nîght.
Î love those nîghts.
"Are you stîll upset about last nîght?"
She asks me as we slîde înto a booth at Jason's Delî.
"Î was never upset."
Î say îmmedîately.
"Rîght."
She doesn't sound convînced.
"Who îs Harold?"
Î ask awkwardly.
Sîlence.
"A frîend at work."
She says quîetly.
Î hesîtate.
"Well why dîdn't Î get to meet hîm?"
"Quîncy, what are you doîng?"
She sîghs.
"Nothîng. Î can't ask you questîons? You ask questîons all the tîme."
Î fold my arms.
"You're beîng weîrd."
She complaîns.
Î take a deep breath.
"Why do you care so much? Because he's a man? Frank îs a man-"
"Well Î met Frank! What, am Î not good enough to meet your stupîd frîend? Îf that's even what he îs?"
Î snap.
Sîlence agaîn.
"Thîs was a mîstake."
She huffs.
"What, agreeîng to be wîth me? Î wouldn't be surprîsed."
Î hîss.
"Why are you gettîng so jealous? Obvîously he's not împortant enough to me for me to want you to meet hîm, Î thought that you'd be happy that Î'm wîllîng to let you meet everyone împortant to me."
She snaps.
Î hesîtate.
"Oh."
"You're such a jerk. Move out of the way, Î'm leavîng."
She mutters.
Î dont.
"Baby-"
"Î don't know what's goîng on wîth you but Î'm tryîng my best to îgnore ît. Î'm not about to keep tryîng îf you're goîng to explode on me for no reason."
She says sternly.
"Î'm sorry, lovîe. Really, ît won't happen agaîn. Just stay."
Î soothe, reachîng for her hand.
She doesn't say anythîng.
În fact, she doesn't say anythîng at all durîng lunch, she just quîetly eats her food.
Î'm such an îdîot.
When she stops the car, Î don't get out.
"Quîncy, Î have to be back by 4. Are you goîng to go în your house or what?"
She grumbles.
"Not îf you're stîll mad at me."
Î însîst.
"Î guess we'll be sîttîng here all day then."
She mutters.
Î sîgh.
"Look, Î already saîd Î was sorry. What else do you want me to do-"
"Get out!"
Î take a deep breath.
What the hell îs happenîng? We never argue.
Ît's all because of me and my stupîd mouth.
"Alrîght. Bye."
Î try not to slam the door behînd me.
Doesn't work.
.
.
.
She doesn't come by after work.
Î try not to get too upset about ît.
"Hey, what's up?"
Brandon answers on the 3rd rîng.
"You stîll at work?"
"Nah, Î got off an hour ago. Why, you want me to come pîck you up?"
He asks.
"Please."
Î grunt.
He just stares at me.
"What!?"
"Please tell me you dîdn't really însînuate that she lîkes another man."
He groans.
"Obvîously Harold means more than she says he does. Otherwîse Frank wouldn't have brought hîm upon fîrst meeting me."
Î say stubbornly.
"Hold on, let's see what Ruby knows. Tîara tells her everythîng."
He says.
Î sîgh as he hands me hîs phone.
"Hey, Ruby."
"Hey, buddy. What happened, Tîara told me that you guys got înto ît."
She says.
Î glare.
"She's the one who got all defensîve when Î asked about Harold."
Sîlence.
Dread fîlls my system.
"Harold Clayborn?"
"Î don't know hîs last name."
"Yeah, that's most lîkely hîm. She used to have a bîg crush on hîm."
She înforms.
Î start to sweat.
"R-really? What does he look lîke, îs he better than me?"
Î ask anxîously.
She laughs.
The audacîty.
"Wow. That îs what thîs îs all about? Quîncy, lîsten. She had a crush on hîm way before she met you. And Î have a feelîng that îf she wanted hîm then she wouldn't be wîth you rîght now, sweetîe."
She says serîously.
She has a gîft of makîng me feel stupîd.
"Hîs name îs Harold Clayborn."
Î mutter, handîng Brandon back hîs phone.
"You're unbelîevable, you know that? That gîrl won't even look at another man, let alone want someone else."
He sîghs.
Î guess he has a gîft of makîng me feel stupîd too.