“Why do you suppose it’s always spinning?”
They’re sitting together on the couch, sprawled out with popcorn and drinks precariously balanced around them. She has a cat in her lap, and he a dog in his, trying sneak a piece of popcorn without them noticing. They just finished another one of those sappy romance movies where the end dialogue is like this:
Man: “I love you,     (insert woman’s name)    .”
Woman: “And I… I think… I love you,     (insert man’s name)    .”
(Long, passionate kiss while the camera magically floats up into the air and starts spinning around in circles)
(Roll credits)
It seems a bit backwards. He always picks stupid movies like this and she always picks things like Die Hard and The Avengers. But then again, he was the one dressing up as a princess at birthday parties and she was always decked out like Darth Vader.
She grabs the bowl of popcorn before Fido, or whatever his dog’s name is, gets any. “I dunno. Maybe that’s what it’s like. Kissing someone, I mean.”
He ponders this. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”
“Nope. You?”
“Never.”
While she’s distracted, thinking about this new bit of information, he grabs the last cookie before she can get it.
“You jerk!” His reward is a fistful of popcorn in his face.
He sputters.
Fido is happy.
People think they’re “going” or “together” or whatever else they call it. But they aren’t. They’re just friends.
That’s what each of them tries to convince themselves when they’re heading out the door for school, when the other is about to come over to watch a movie, when they’re about to pick up the phone.
Just friends.
He tells it to himself as he tries to pick the perfect rom-com, one that will somehow show her that he sees her like Mr. Swoon sees the love interest in this ten millionth stupid movie he’s shown her. Even though he definitely doesn’t see her that way.
She tells it to herself as she texts him for help with the math homework, even though she doesn’t need it. She’s just texting him because she enjoys talking to him, and she found this funny picture that’s about not understanding math homework, and he’ll like it, so she has to pretend to be asking for some sort of meaningless homework help in order to share it with him.
They tell themselves that they’re just friends as the movie ends and the camera spins and Mr. and Mrs. Swoon look deeply into each other’s eyes.
He has brown eyes. She thinks they make him look happy all the time, like Fido who’ll jump for joy over some spilled popcorn. She thinks they’re warm and soft and you could just fall into them. But they’re still just friends; the fact that he has chocolate eyes doesn’t change anything.
She has green eyes. He thinks they make her look sharp and cool, like the cat curled on her lap, tail flicking suspiciously as she watches Fido slurp up the popcorn. He thinks they’re brilliant and smart and just a little intimidating. Like she is. But they’re still just friends; the fact that she has piercing eyes doesn’t change anything.
And they sit on the couch, just friends, arguing about the last cookie and they’re both laughing like just friends do. But they’re both a little bit sad at the same time, though they can’t put their finger on why.
Maybe someday they’ll figure it out.