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By the last week of November, Annie Edison has gone on a total of eleven dates since the start of school, with six different men ranging in ages from twenty to thirty-two.
In the process, she has learned all sorts of important things:
First, one unbuttoned blouse button is harmless. Two unbuttoned buttons is a little sexy but still safe, depending on the date. If you accidentally leave your house with three unbuttoned buttons and no camisole underneath, conversation will probably never progresses past your boobs. Also, food will end up in there. As will the waiter’s eyes.
Second, don’t order anything with spinach.
Finally, it's a terrible thing to give someone a fake telephone number. It can be worse to give out a real telephone number. Brent from Dildopolis turns out to be a surprisingly good bodyguard but even he can't save her from Bruno Mars being sung into her voicemail at all hours of the day. Yes, she IS amazing just the way she is, thank you very much, but she's better when her phone isn't ringing at 2am.
She learns that her interest in Rich doesn’t last past finding out that he’s only thirty-two, still two years younger than Jeff. She pretends it’s entirely coincidental but she’s fully aware that she was hoping he was thirty-six.
She goes out with him one more time, but it's during his third “you're as smart as a button!” that has her wondering whether his eyes are naturally twinkly or just a little unhinged.
When she mentions this to Jeff the following Tuesday, he slips into prologued and obnoxious fist pumping and she then has to spend five minutes listening while he launches into his standard rant on what is so offensive about Rich's Richness.
She’s only slightly sure that he later spends a full minute looking at her while she highlights her notes.
It could have just been the glare of the glossy textbook though, because when she looks up, he's disinterestedly playing with his phone.
He's recently started playing the Sims on his phone, having animated the study group an hour after downloading the game. The first time that Britta went on a tirade about how it was gross and creepy that Jeff was playing with cartoon versions of their lives, Sims Britta burned her house down. The second time, she failed to go to work three days in a row and got fired. Most recently, Sims Britta has started to pee herself.
When Annie taps him on the arm, he angles the phone so she can get a quick update. Apparently, Sims Annie is rapidly advancing in her career of crime.
Annie wrinkles her nose. "Still?"
Jeff shrugs, "Just capitalizing on your natural talents. You know when to guilt people, when to manipulate them and when to just be nice. No one would actually be able to lock you up. You'd probably use little woodland creatures to help you get away with everything," He coughs and looks back down at his phone and starts flicking at the screen. "It's unfair, you know. I really really hate that."
She laughs again, "You could have just been describing yourself, Jeff. Well, partly."
Annie looks back at her books with a smile and this time, she can feel his gaze on her while she finishes her index cards.
***
“Caring is exhausting,” Jeff says that afternoon in the cafeteria, inelegantly collapsing at the table across from her after his shift helping Pierce, who is still stuck in his wheelchair.
With a grin, Annie slowly pushes the remainder of her fries to the center of the table. “Sharing is caring, too.”
He smiles back lazily and sits upright, grabbing a fry and looking pensively at her. “Well, that’s right off the wall of a high school gymnasium. Let’s see, what else. Hugs, not drugs.”
“Be kind, rewind!”
“Please Edison, like you’ve ever used a VCR.”
“I have!”
He raises an eyebrow at her.
“I like the sound they make, when you rewind the tapes and then fast forward them. You know, that whiny squeaking? I don’t know, I guess that’s weird but yes, Jeff, I have used a VCR before. I’m not that young,” she says defiantly.
He stares at her softly for a second, a half smile the only indication that he has heard her, before he looks down at the table and grabs another French fry.
When he looks back up his face is again full of relaxed lines and hard angles. “Um, crack is wack?”
“Why are all of yours drug related? Did someone else spend some time in Narcotics Anonymous?”
He laughs and then bites down on his fry with a thoughtful look, “You never really talk about it.”
Annie glances up from where she is building a French fry fort.
“What?”
“Rehab. You rarely talk about it or joke about it. You guys talk about my giant fuck up of a lawyer life all the time, daily even.”
She squirms a little under the intensity of his gaze. “What happened to ‘Caring is exhausting! Caring is creepy!’”
He shrugs while he picks up another fry. “Don't mistake this for caring. I was just observing. Knowledge is Power!" He smirks while he waves a finger in the air. "Right? Or something like that.”
“To be honest, it doesn’t bother me that much anymore, the whole rehab thing.” She carefully tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’m not that person now. At least I'm trying not to be. You can understand that, right? I think joking sometimes might make it all easier. But I’m not sure most people would understand me joking about Crazy Annie, or pill popping Annie. I don’t want to make light of it, but it feels like such a long time ago.”
Jeff rubs his chin lightly. “Yeah, I can understand all that.”
“Sorry, that got serious. Although, you did ask.”
“Whatever, fine. Sharing is caring, okay Annie?”
“A-ha! You know that entire conversation was just a ploy to get you to repeat that sentence. I have my tape recorder on in my bag right now and I can forever play that when you are being a jerk. It will save the group those three steps to get you from ‘Jeff pretends not to care’ to ‘Jeff realizes the error of his ways and delivers a heartfelt speech’.”
“You are becoming entirely too much like me.”
“Why, thank you.”
“No, seriously. You know that time I called you a precocious bitch?”
Annie nods, a hint of a smirk crossing her lips.
“I never apologized for it because I’m pretty sure it’s the best compliment I’ve ever given anyone.”
Her mouth drops open. “Excuse me?”
He smiles again, twirling a fry between his thumb and forefinger. “Well, we wouldn’t fit so well together if you weren’t.”
Her eyebrows jump up as she realizes what he has just said. He seems to realize it simultaneously and he drops his fry, looking down at it as if it were responsible.
“You know, as friends. We just, compliment each other, really well,” He scratches his cheek. “Anyway, I should go. All those fries and the macaroni yesterday – I’m overdue for some basketball or something. Thanks for the slogan-off.” He salutes her as he stands up and doesn’t look back once as he walks out of the cafeteria.
It has been four months since she last doodled his name anywhere but sometimes she wonders whether growing up will ever take away the impulse to think about how names sound together. In that moment, it all comes rushing back at her (Annie and Jeff, Jeff and Annie) and she suddenly remembers how much she hates the name Annie Winger. She frowns at her crumbling French fry village before toppling it completely with a well-placed flick of her finger. Jeff Edison might work.
***
Annie finally finds him just as night is falling, walking toward his car briskly with a look of sheer determination.
As he enters the abandoned parking lot she finally catches up to him. He glances down at her briefly but doesn’t break his stride.
“Annie, I’m kind of in a hurry.”
She stares up at him with an expectant look on her face until he finally stops walking with a sigh.
“What?” he throws his hands up in the air, “Fine. It was the episode of Oprah’s favorite things today and I taped it and I swear to God if you tell anyone I admitted that I will come after you with a level of vengeance I normally reserve for the glee club, animatronic pets, and polyester.”
“Fine! I just have one last saying for you: Honesty is the best policy.”
Jeff groans. “I’ve always hated that one.”
“I’m sure everyone would find that shocking.”
“Well, I hate to say it but you win then, because my brain is totally empty of additional slogans from the 1990’s DARE campaign and for some reason, that’s the only place I can go today.”
“Yesss,” Annie exclaims with a smile and an exaggerated fist pump.
Jeff grins at her. “You chased me out here just so that you could have the last word on this?”
“Hello, debate? I’ll do anything to win,” she says, suddenly standing upright. “It’s another way you and I are alike.” She stares up at him, her expression suddenly serious with only a hint of wavering bravado.
He’s staring down at her darkly with a faint frown and she isn’t sure she can move.
“Smile,” she says softly.
There is something comforting here with the pavement and the streetlamps, and the gentle murmuring of classmates as white noise in the distance.
Emboldened, she tentatively brings her fingers up to his face and rests them on the sides of his mouth, gently trying to make his frown turn upward instead. Without losing eye contact, her thumb ends up resting on the center of his bottom lip while her forefinger begins to trace the lines of his jaw, delicately scraping over his stubble and down below his chin.
Abruptly realizing he is still standing there frozen, she slowly begins to remove her hand, her face inflamed. As her fingers begin to pull away, his left hand flies up and holds it in place, tugging her toward him.
His right palm reaches out to smooth back her hair, coming to rest on her cheek, mirroring the position of her hand. He presses his thumb against the center of her bottom lip until her mouth opens slightly. He stares mesmerized at the contrast of red and pink until she experimentally kisses his thumb, his eyes darkening. She runs her free hand up into his hair and tentatively pulls his mouth down to hers. He kisses her immediately, capturing her upper lip in between his. She kisses back gently at first, and then harder, lightly biting his lower lip so that a deep noise escapes from the back of his throat.
When they finally begin to pull apart he stays only a few inches away, one hand holding hers, the other resting on her waist.
“Okay?” She asks quietly.
“Okay. Okay?
“Okay.”
They both grin.
“See, we do fit together," Jeff's voice is soft, until the reality of his words sink in. His face immediately shifts into a grimace. "Wow, fuck. Pretend I didn’t just say that. I promise to never say anything that trite again.”
“I thought it was romantic.”
“You would Edison."
“So wait, did you say again?” Annie looks up at him, trying to keep her expression neutral.
Jeff looks down at their still joint hands and then up at Annie. “Well, it seems like we don’t have a choice. I’m defenseless against the barrage of cheesy slogans and idioms and phrases you’ve thrown at me today. So, I'll just share the fact that I care about you,” He makes a disgusted face and shakes his head. “Oh Jesus, what was in those fucking french fries.”
Annie wrinkles her nose with a gentle smile, “Seriously, Jeff? That was terrible. I’m already rethinking my recent life choices.”
Jeff frowns. “Honestly, you probably will. I’m old and I spend more time getting dressed than I do on anything that will ever matter to you. But I’m awesome too. And you know what else is awesome? Oprah. So rather than us sitting here and overthinking all of this right this second, how about we go and watch people pee themselves in excitement over receiving frozen dinners and cashmere?”
Annie grins. “Eww. But awesome.”
As they began to walk the last few steps to his car, Annie tugs on his hand. “You know I was kidding, right? About rethinking life-choices?”
Jeff glances over at her quickly with a serious expression before looking straight ahead. “Yeah, but you might. And that’s fine.”
Annie doesn’t respond, just squeezes his hand twice until he looks over at her with a genuine smile.
“Ugh!” He says, stopping suddenly. “There’s no hope in dope! How could I forget that one?”
Annie laughs as she gets into the passenger side of the car. “I have no idea. That’s the first one they taught us in rehab.”
“I must have still been high that week.”
“Clearly. What a wasted youth.”
“At least there's still hope for me.”
“Eh. We’re working on it.”
***
He’s right; Oprah is awesome.
***