The Art Of Noticing

Chapter Four: Unexpected room inspection.

The following day was a Saturday. I slept in, watched videos on my phone, and tried my best not to think about the previous night.

The night actually ended on a high note, with us playing a few more rounds of the game. Then we lit up some sparklers and ran around the park like neanderthals.

Or at least I watch everyone else run around the park.

I'm sure if I were to ask the rest of the group about what had happened, they wouldn't even remember the awkward moment I had brought to the night. But Reese. She'd remember. I don't know if she'd let herself forget.

I could still see the look she had on her face. That hurt.

She felt sorry for me, really. I didn't want her pity, though. No one really knows what it's like to lose someone you care about like that, and people pray it doesn't happen to them, or to anyone they care about. I suppose it was sort of surreal for Reese, hearing that it had happened to me.

I suppose she was embarrassed too. Embarrassed that she had even asked about Lea in the first place. She had every right to be. And what was I supposed to say? I couldn't be quiet and say nothing but I couldn't be blunt either.

It was all just a big mess.

After having watched enough videos, I trudged out of bed, put on some gray sweatpants and my Purple Rain T-shirt, and made my way up the stairs and to the kitchen. The time was 11:13. I grabbed myself a bagel, the entire container of butter, and then walked back to the stairs.

"Well, good afternoon, Seb," I heard a voice say.

I stopped in my tracks.

You have got to be kidding me.

I turned to see Reese sitting on the living room couch with my mother.

"You have a guest, dear." said mom.

"I see that." I replied.

And then there was silence.

Why was she here? Why on Earth was she here?

We all stared at each other for a good two minutes before mom said, "Alright, well, why don't you show Reese to your room. I'm sure you'll want to hang out."

I nodded and then continued walking down the stairs. Reese stood up.

"It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Gallagher."

"You too, sweetie."

Reese then followed in my direction. "How'd you find my address?" I asked in a tone I hadn't meant to.

It was a tone that would come anytime I was irritated. It was always unintentional, but it could never be stopped.

"Saw you walk home last night. You live surprisingly close to the park." She answered as we entered my room.

"This is your room?" she asked with a grin on her face, "This is so cool. You have LEDs and records and everything. Why don't you ever talk about that?"

"Well, to be fair, I've only hung out with you and your friends once."

"Our friends." she corrected.

I chuckled and put the stuff in my hand on my desk. Reese snooped through the room, picking up trinkets, admiring them, then placing them back perfectly. She made her way around the room, walking around me, to the shelf of infinite records.

"Wanna watch a movie?" I asked, "I mean, since you're here."

"Sure." she answered without taking her eyes off what she was looking at. I stood there for a moment, watching her go through my stuff.

"Got any good options?" she asked eventually, turning to face me.

I looked away immediately.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, I do."

I walked over to my TV stand and opened a case with DVD's. I pulled out a couple options I thought she would like.

"I've got The Goonies, The Princess Bride, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off."

"How about the second one." she replied, her focus now back on my records.

I nodded and then put the disc into the video player.

"I didn't know you listened to so many classics." she said as she walked over to the couch.

"Hm?"

"The vinyl's, Seb," she answered, "You've got some really good ones."

"Oh, yeah. Thanks."

"What's with the mixtapes, though? I didn't know people still had those."

"I made them. I buy the cassettes and then I record the songs on the cassette player."

"That's really cool. You know, you could totally sell them, if you wanted to. People would pay a lot of money for something vintage like that."
"Like, make money off of making mixtapes?"

"Yeah!"

"No."
"Oh, come on! Why not?"

"I. . . don't have good taste in music."
"Yes, you do, Seb!" she said, an eyebrow raised.

"I can't sell mixtapes!"
"You have no problem letting me look through them."

"Letting you look at my stuff is different than putting it all out into the world. . . And I didn't let you, I just didn't stop you."
Reese's expression softened.

"You really feel strongly about this, don't you?"

I looked down, breaking eye contact.

She sighed, "Okay, fine. . . We'll just listen to them down here, then."

I nodded, relieved she had caved.

Later that evening, after Reese and I had finished our movie and she had gone home, I went through my room, tidying anything I could in case there were any other surprise visitors.

*vvvvv vvvvv*.

A buzz came from my phone, which I rushed to look at.

9:20 P.M.

Reese: I know you like listening to music the old fashioned way,

but here's a list of songs I think you should listen to...

Don't Dream It's Over - Crowded House

Pluto Projector - Rex Orange County

Killer Queen - Queen

I hadn't heard of a single one of those songs. Still, I looked them up, starting with the first one. 30 minutes later, I texted Reese back. . .

9:50 P.M.

ME: These are not the kinds of songs I would have expected you to like.

Reese: They're good, right!

ME: Yeah, they are.

Reese: glad you liked them.

ME: glad you sent them.

Reese: Good, cuz I'm making this a regular thing.

ME: Sending songs or texting me?

Reese: Both lol

ME: lol

Reese: Well, see you on monday.

ME: Yeah, see you on monday.

Reese: Sit with us at lunch?

ME: Yeah. Sure.

Reese: Cool.

ME: Cool.

<Reese has logged out>