D A I S Y
I woke up before noon most weekends. I didn't need an alarm. My mom and Jason's voice were always alarming enough. They could be in any room of the house, and I would still hear their morning conversations as loud as if they were in bed with me.
Jason would probably get into a fight with anyone who accused him of it, but he had always been a mommy's boy, always one to sit and listen while mom talked about her day. I had watched way too many shows about the highs and lows of hospital wards, but had somehow never seen the appeal of our mom's nursing stories. Jason was different.
Just this morning, I had heard him say, "So Jennifer didn't do it?"
To which mom had said, just as outraged, "No! She just clocked out and left."
I had no idea who Jennifer was, but I had lost the rest of the narrative, and I also didn't care enough to try and find it again. I wanted to go back to sleep, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. I was awake, and I was hungry.
I went down the stairs and surprised them both in the kitchen, hands on my waist, hair as crazy as my eyes, and the ultimate question, "Do you mind?"
Jason was putting his empty cereal bowl in the sink. Jason took breakfast very seriously, so much he wouldn't go to bed happy if he didn't know he would have his cocoa puffs waiting for him in the morning. He was weird about it too. He poured the milk first, and he filled the bowl up to the very top, and then microwaved it for almost a minute. I had known something was wrong with him the first time he had done it.
"Good morning, honey," my mom said, ignoring my question. She was nursing her cup of coffee, black, and steaming, just the way she liked it.
"Is it really a good morning if I woke up to the knowledge that Jennifer, of all people, just clocked out and left?" I asked.
Jason walked right past me, smiling to himself, in my t-shirt. He was wearing my t-shirt!
I pointed at it, "That's mine!!"
Jason just looked down at himself and shrugged, "It was in one of my drawers."
"It's not my fault you wear boys t-shirts, honey. I can never tell what's yours and what's his. I just can't." She took another sip of her coffee and shrugged.
"Maybe start doing your own laundry," Jason said, lingering by the door.
"You don't do your own laundry either!"
"But I'm not complaining, am I?"
I stretched my hand out for him, "Just give me back my t-shirt."
"What if I don't?" he said. "I'm pretty sure this is a man's size anyway."
I gasped. Mom laughed.
"It's not! Mom!"
She looked at me. I wanted an apologetic look, of course, but got a compassionate one instead, "You did put on some weight."
I rolled my eyes, "Why do I even bother?"
"I know, right?" Jason said, disappearing into the living room.
I reached for the kettle in the corner of the counter. I had just filled it up with enough water to make myself coffee when I heard the sounds coming from the living room.
"I hope that's not what I think it is!" I said, loud enough for Jason to hear me. He didn't answer, so I left the water boiling and walked over to the living room.
Jason was sprawled on the couch watching the sad horse show.
"You're gonna watch it without me?" Lazy morning light spilled all over him as he smiled, not even bothering to look away from the tv screen.
"No," he said, even though he was watching it without me. When he felt my glare on him, he shrugged, "Well, if you don't hurry up, then yes, I'm watching it without you."
"Just pause it," I said.
He rolled his eyes, "Just hurry up!"
I tried. In the kitchen, my mother was nursing her coffee, and flicking through one of her cooking magazines. She stopped when I rushed back in, sliding on the tiles, and almost falling on my face. I turned on the coffee machine.
"I can't stop thinking about that ramen from last night," mom said. I frowned, throwing two slices of bread in the toaster. Mom went on, "Wasn't it just divine?"
I finished making my coffee, "I wouldn't know, mom. I wasn't there."
She had forgotten about it, but she wouldn't let it show, of course. They had gone for dinner after Jason's football game. Apparently everyone was pretending his doctor hadn't advised against him getting back on the field so soon. Not that I cared.
Mom frowned, "And why was that?"
"You can't expect me to put myself through Jason's football games. You just can't."
"Why not?" She frowned some more. "You could learn to like it, you know?"
"I don't believe in learning how to like stuff." Mom had this philosophy for a lot of things in life. She had been trying vegan recipes for a while and kept going even after no one in the family liked them except for her. All she had to say about it was, you'll learn to like it. No one ever did.
In the living room, Jason said, "That is fucked up."
I destroyed my toast trying to spread rock hard butter on it.
"Who put the butter in the fridge again?"
"Your dad," mom said, unbothered. She liked her toasts with avocado. Of course, she was unbothered. "Anyway, we can go there again next week."
I was trying to balance my cup of coffee, my toast, and my phone all at once, so I just shrugged. Coffee spilled on the kitchen tiles when I did. Mom didn't notice.
"You can bring Luke," she said. Mom and dad both thought Luke was my gay best friend rather than my boyfriend. I didn't have it in me to correct them. It was hilarious.
I stopped by the door. In the living room, the show's opening theme song had just gotten cut short. I rolled my eyes, "Did you just skip the intro?"
Jason didn't answer, but I could hear him laugh.
I looked back at my mom, "Can Zoey go too? She loves ramen."
She was following me into the living room, one of her big smiles on her face, her coffee in her hand, none of it spilling over like mine, which was already dripping down my hand.
When we were close enough, she told Jason, "I convinced Daisy to go watch your game with us next week. We'll go to that ramen place again. I can't stop thinking about it."
I put my breakfast down on the coffee table and pushed Jason's feet off the couch so I could sit down. He threw them on my lap instead, and laughed like he didn't believe it.
"I thought we were just talking about dinner," I said. I was definitely not going to watch a bunch of alpha-male-wannabes run around a football field.
"We were," mom said, her nicest smile still on. "But first we watch Jason's game."
"No, that's not â"
She stopped me, already on her way to the kitchen, "Zoey and Luke are coming too."
Jason frowned on his end of the couch, his eyes still on the screen of the tv, "Luke Martin? I thought you were broken up."
"What? No, we're still dating."
He was looking at my breakfast, "Your coffee's gonna go cold."
I was looking at him, "Why would you think that?"
He shrugged again, "You never touch each other."
"What is wrong with you?" I was so confused. "Have you been staring at us waiting to see us touch?"
He laughed, "I would have to wait for a fucking while."
I wanted to throw steaming hot coffee at his face, "Why are you saying that?!"
He pressed pause on the show and sat up on the couch. I thought he was finally going to explain himself, but instead he leaned forward and stole a piece of my toast.
I said, "Don't you dare."
He did, a bite so big, more than half of it was suddenly gone. Then he went for my coffee, took a sip, and then another one, and another one, and finally, he put it back on the table.
"Didn't you just eat?" I asked.
"So," he started, ignoring both my question and the fact that he had just stolen half of my breakfast without asking. "The other day, right? I come home from practice. You're both watching some shit on tv, which is already fucking weird, cause, personally, I could never watch anything with any of my girlfriends â"
"You had one girlfriend â"
"I'm not finished," he stopped me. "You were sitting on both ends of the couch, like we are right now, just watching tv, not even talking."
"So what?"
"It was fucking weird."
"No, it wasn't," I said.
"Maybe." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just really horny."
"You're disgusting." I said, but I was thinking about it. He pressed play again, but I paid no attention to it. On the coffee table, my breakfast went cold, and I didn't care.
I was still thinking about it. Thinking Luke and I had watched so much tv over the past few months and every time we had each been sitting in our corner, not touching at all. Thinking how we spent hours talking, and talking, and talking, and how that was all there was. Thinking, and thinking, thinking.
Eventually, I had to ask him, "What do you think it means?"
Jason looked at me with a frown, "Are you actually stressing about this right now?"
"I am," I said.
He shrugged, "Maybe he's gay."
"I don't think he is," I said, looking at my coffee and toast going cold. I didn't care. I wasn't hungry anymore. "Do you think maybe he doesn't find me attractive?"
He pressed pause on the show again, and looked at me like he resented me for it.
He rolled his eyes, "No."
"No as in he doesn't or â"
"You're my twin. You're obviously very attractive," he said. "You don't know how to dress, but â"
"You're wearing one of my t-shirts."
"My point exactly."
I ignored him, "We almost never kiss."
Jason made a face, "I know."
"Maybe I'm a bad kisser."
"Probably," he said, but he was smiling. "I'm kidding. I'm sure you're â"
"Well, fuck, now I don't know, do I?!" I was losing my mind. I buried my face in a pillow and screamed
He laughed, and moved closer, "Right, come here, let's see."
I planted my hands on his shoulder before he could even touch me, "Jason!"
He had a shit-eating grin on his face, "Come on! It's not a big deal."
He smelled like the coffee he had just stolen from me, probably because he had managed to spill it on himself when he did, and he was pushing my hands away from him, so he could lean even closer, and laughing like an absolute idiot.
"Jason, stop it!!" I said, but I was laughing too, and pushing him off so hard, he fell off the couch, and almost hit his head on the corner of the coffee table.
"You always have to take it too far, don't you?" he asked, dragging himself back to his corner of the couch. "I could have died."
"Oh no," I said, pretending to care.
He flipped me off and pressed play again, "Just ask Zoey."
"I will!" I wouldn't.
"Report back to me though."
"Fuck you."
"Your loss." He shrugged. "I really think we could get to the bottom of this."
I leaned back on the couch and crossed my arms over my chest. Jason laughed at something on tv, and I played all the memories of Luke and I over in my head. Thought of all the touches. Did I even want them? I should want them, right? We both should. When had I stopped wanting them?
I remembered once, in the beginning. We had gone to the movies, and I had spent the whole time waiting for him to make a move, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting. We walked home that night, and I kept on waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and eventually, I forgot what I was waiting for.
That had been one of the best nights of my life. I had gone to bed feeling like I had read a really good book or watched a really good movie, even though the one we did watch that night wasn't good at all, or the one we watched after it. I went to bed with sore cheeks from all the laughing we did that night, and a sore feeling in my chest from it being over even though I wanted it to go on, and on, and on.
We had gone out together again, and I had fun again, so much fun, I never remembered what I had been waiting for during that first night out together.
Jason laughed again, the last piece of toast disappearing inside his mouth, and then my coffee, probably already cold. I kept thinking about it.
A few days later, we were kicked out of the class for laughing too much and ran into a couple making out against the school lockers in the hallway.
I thought, "That could be us."
And he said, "Ew."