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Janine fell back against the couch with a sigh, a hand to her heart. "That was so sweet." Her smile still had the power to fill Gregory's stomach with butterflies. He couldn't help the tiny quirk of his own lips. "I can't believe you'd never seen it!"
"I know." Gregory let his thigh rest against hers. He still wasn't over the feeling, over the small touches, over the pleasant warmth of Janine Teagues. He savored it.
"It's been out for, like, 20 years." She clicked down the volume on the projector, tilting her head at him. "I'm glad we're doing this. You can't be a first-grade teacher and not have watched all the Pixar movies. It just doesn't make sense." She hopped up, tossing the remote in his lap. "Let me go grab the dice and wheel, we can pick the next movie!"
Disappearing into the kitchen, she left Gregory with a warm, settled feeling. He leaned forward, clicking off the projector before it overheated.
It was a finicky device, left over after the golf course replaced Abbott's outdated projectors with pristine new ones. Jacob had roped Janine into salvaging one of the two remaining, but her apartment was so small, she didn't have space to use it.
So it ended up at Gregory's and, strangely, he didn't mind. He almost liked it. Like a bright light that attracts a moth, the projector was an easy means of attracting Janine. Though they'd been dating for a while now, he could still get nervous asking her over.
Well, nervous wasn't the right word. Gregory was always nervous; he and nervous were well acquainted. He knew nervous. This was similar, but… happy. Giddy. Maybe even elated, and he didn't use that word lightly.
Janine returned from the kitchen, die and spinner in hand. "Alright!" She said, passing him the die. "You roll for a number, and I'll spin for a color."
Janine's movie-picking system, like many of her inventions, was joyously convoluted. A month ago, she learned that Gregory Eddie had never seen a single Pixar movie. To Janine, it was sacrilege. You can't be an elementary school teacher and not know your classics! So he let himself be talked into a 29-movie-long watch party extravaganza.
Now it was month two and movie 15. How he'd watched so many children's movies in one month, he wasn't entirely sure. But it had something to do with that warm, fuzzy feeling he got holding Janine in his arms, cuddled under a blanket. He was safe. He was at home.
Rolling the die across the table, Gregory leaned forward to catch the number. "Four." He turned to Janine.
"Four, alright! Okay, so let's spin," She flicked the wheel. "And… Alright, blue!" Again, she disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing a moment later with a cup labeled "four". She held the cup towards Gregory. "Pick the blue popsicle stick."
Peering, he found it and tugged it free. "Uh. Cars 2." He looked up at her. "Shouldn't we watch Cars 1 first?"
"Well, I mean," Janine sat beside him, pursing her lips. "You don't have to. It's like Star Wars, you watch the prequels later."
"But Cars 1 isn't a prequel."
"Says who?"
Gregory blinked at her. "The makers of the movie."
"Well, we watched Dune 2 first, didn't we?"
Gregory nodded slowly. "That we did. And I'd argue it enhanced the experience, too."
"Right? We really had to engage with it. Ask a lot of questions."
A smile loosened his face. "Mostly because we had no idea what was going on."
"Yeah, but," she grinned, the cup tilting dangerously in her loose grip. "We had fun."
"Yes, we did." Nodding, Gregory gently took the cup from her hands and set it on the table. "Cars 2 it is."
"Perfect! I can't wait." Standing, Janine grabbed her bag from the floor. "Same time tomorrow?"
Gregory jumped from the couch. "Tomorrow?" Janine quirked a brow, and he cleared his throat. "I mean, we have time now, why not watch it-- watch it now?"
"Yeah, but we have school tomorrow," Janine adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She paused. "Or work. School and work. School is work." Gregory blinked, and she gently shook her head. "As much as I want to, Cars 2-- it's good. I want to discuss it, you know? We'll need more time."
Gregory nodded, slowly. His fingers twitched as he searched for an excuse. What's something Janine can't resist? "Um,” he swallowed. “Let's get ice cream? Before you go home."
At that, Janine stopped. Her mouth opened, cogs whirring behind her eyes as she processed the request. Finally, she replied, "Ice cream?"
"Yes."
A pause. "You?"
Gregory raised a brow. "Now what's that supposed to mean?"
"I just didn't think you liked ice cream."
"I mean," he shrugged. "Vanilla isn't terrible."
"Wow." Janine's eyes sparkled humorously. "There are so many levels to you, Gregory Eddie. I always learn something new."
Rolling his eyes, Gregory took her bag. "C'mon, I'll drive."
+++
The ice cream place was sterile white, with fluorescent lights and a bored teenager manning the counter. Carefully, Janine walked along the selection, a finger resting on her chin. Gregory approached the server. "Just a scoop of vanilla for me, please. In a cup. No toppings, unless you have bee pollen?"
The server blinked. "Uh, no bee pollen."
"That's okay. Just vanilla, then. Thank you." He said and stepped back, watching as Janine hovered over a section of the case. Her face was serious, eyes squinted, arms crossed. She cast a glance at Gregory.
"I don't know which one to get," she said, frowning. "They all look good." She turned back, eyes darting between two seemingly radioactive ice cream flavors. After a moment, she waved over the server. "Excuse me, um. What do you recommend?"
The server blinked. "Uh. Well, for adults, our most popular flavor is Oreo." Janine pursed her lips, looking back down. The server continued, "For kids, it's bubblegum."
That got Janine's attention, her head snapping up. "Does it have bubblegum pieces in it…?"
The server nodded. "Edible pieces, yeah."
She turned to Gregory, grinning brilliantly. He took out his wallet. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes, definitely." She turned back to the server. "Two scoops, please. In a waffle cone. With sprinkles." A pause. "You know what? Extra sprinkles. Why not?"
After Gregory paid, the pair took their ice cream and set out walking the block. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky a pleasant mix of blue and pink. Janine held her cone up to it.
"The colors kind of match."
Gregory bent down to see it from her angle. "They kind of do, yeah." He paused, glancing at her. "Bubblegum?"
"Yes, of course. It's delicious."
He hummed, taking a conservative spoonful of vanilla. "Your students are rubbing off on you."
"Hey!" Her words were muffled by a mouthful of ice cream. "Those kids have good taste!"
"Like the one who ate Peter Rabbit?"
"I mean," Janine shrugged, taking another pink and blue striped bite. "It's a good book."
Gregory nodded slowly. "That's true."
It was getting cold, a mid-October evening with crisp wind and fully yellow leaves. A small gust blew a strand of Janine's hair as she ate her ice cream, half with a spoon, half just going at it. Behind them lay a trail of sprinkles.
"Have you ever tried bubblegum before?" She turned to him.
"The ice cream? Or the gum?"
"Either?"
He paused, slipping his half-full cup and spoon into a trash can. "Uh. No."
A smile grew on Janine's face. "Do you want to?"
Gregory felt his brows raise. The request to just try it had plagued his life since he could first say no. He was used to the pressure, the subsequent disappointment when people realized he couldn't just "get over" his food habits. The way he'd be excluded, even subtly, because he couldn't force himself to eat like everyone else. That isolation: the pressure to push his own boundaries, the awkwardness when he couldn't.
He tilted his head at her. When she smiled back, he realized he didn't feel that pressure. Not with her. He knew he could say no, and she'd just nod. He could try it, and hate it, and she'd never bring it up again. He paused, eyeing her fluorescent ice cream.
"Uh, I can try it, yeah." Tentatively, he leaned and took a nervous bite. He chewed a moment, blinking, before spinning back to the trash can to spit it out. Janine just laughed.
"Well, now you can say you tried it."
"And hated it. Ugh," He took a long draw of water from his bottle, trying to wash out the flavor. "Now I really don't understand why you like that. It tastes like cough syrup."
Janine shrugged, popping another spoonful. "I've always kinda liked the taste of cough syrup. The cherry ones, at least." She pointed the spoon at him, mouth full. "Those are good."
"Right…" He deadpanned, but he couldn't help a smile. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her close, walking in step.
Look, Gregory wasn't a great people person. He could get along with them, but even he understood the fact that he came off as strange. He often overcompensated for it, putting so much energy into just seeming normal that he was exhausted by the end of the day.
But with Janine, he didn't feel that way. He didn't have to pretend. Sure, he still needed his time alone, everyone does, but he wasn't on edge. He was safe with Janine. Not judged, not analyzed, not overwhelmed. She brought him to Earth and taught him how to hold on.
She was comfortable, safe. With Janine, he felt at home. Even his own apartment didn't feel like home if she wasn't there. It's why he already couldn't wait to watch a movie he barely cared about, why he took her out for ice cream even though he could barely stand it. Just for her. Just to be with her. He sucked in a breath.
"Do you want to move in?" The words jumped out before he could stop them.
Janine stopped, cocking her head at him. "What?"
Stomach dropping, he backpedaled blindly. "I, uh, I-- I don't know why, I mean, I'd like to-- It was serious, but, if it's too early--"
Janine waved her spoon to cut him off, a smile tugging at her lips. He returned the expression nervously.
"Don't be sorry." She said. Thoughtfully, she stuck her spoon in the remnants of her ice cream, tapping a nail against the plastic. She took a breath. "I've actually been thinking about it myself, I just-- Having to go home and get my movies is a pain, and the whole Netflix IP address thing?" She shrugged calmly, but was betrayed by her wide smile. "I mean, we might as well move in together, right?"
Gregory knew he was grinning like a fool. "Right. It makes sense."
"Lots of sense. A pile of sense."
He leaned into it. "A truckload of sense." He said, draping an arm around her shoulder. His body felt light, airy.
“And,” she put a hand to his chest. “More than sense. I really want to.”
He looked down at her warm face. Her soft brown eyes glowed, making his stomach flutter. "Yeah,” his face was warm. “Me, too.” He paused. A light breeze tugged at their jackets. “Let's go home, then? Together?"
Janine bounced on her toes, shining at him. "Absolutely."
Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss to her lips. When they broke apart, she held up a hand, looking away a moment. "Actually," she cleared her throat. "Can you drop me off at my place? All my stuff is there. I need my lesson plan for tomorrow." A pause. "And my clothes."
"Oh. Right. Yes." Gregory blinked. " Of course."
"But after that?" Janine gestured.
"After that,” he nodded sharply. “We move in."
"Yes. We move. I move. To your apartment."
"My apartment." He paused. "Yours is too small."
"Yes. Mine is too small." She nodded, laughing, and let herself fall against him. As the pair meandered back to the car, the sun dipped below the rooftops, the last of the cotton candy sky beginning to fade.