Friday Romance: Tripping Over You (Parts 1 - 4)
Kevin tried opening a can of soup using a hammer, but it only resulted in a mess on the counter. He sighed, knowing he’d have to go to the store.
Kevin tried opening a can of soup using a hammer, but it only resulted in a mess on the counter. He sighed, knowing he’d have to go to the store.
When he moved into his new apartment, he thought he’d packed everything, but he’d forgotten his can-opener. It’d been a “gift” from his father when he first moved out.
“You’re on your own now,” his father had said. “It’s about time you learn how to use one of these.”
“But we have an automatic one?”
“Correction, your mother and I have an automatic one. You have this.”
Buying one that resembled his parent’s can-opener had been on the top of his list when he initially went shopping after moving into his first apartment. For the sake of counter space, however, he had to stick with the small handheld version if he wanted to fit a microwave.
His new apartment provided little in terms of extra counter space. He should’ve paid more attention during the walkthrough.
Kevin arrived at the grocery store just before noon. The sun blazed outside. The cool breeze of the air conditioning as he stepped inside was a welcomed retreat.
He had a few other items on his list, so he made his rounds from aisle to aisle. The can-openers were with the kitchen utensils in the last aisle, right next to the rubber spatulas. There was one left.
“Any chance I could have that?”
The question caught him off guard.
“What?”
Kevin turned his attention to the young woman standing next to him. She had long dark hair which traveled down past her shoulders. A thick-rimmed pair of black glasses sat on her nose.
“That can-opener,” she said. “Mine broke this morning and I’m making a casserole for dinner tonight. I’m having friends over to celebrate my new apartment.”
Kevin looked from her to the can-opener. His eyes grew wide. His heart raced. He thought about the time he tripped and fell in front of his crush when he was in the seventh grade. What was happening? Why was that suddenly on his mind?
“Here,” he said. “You can have it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I left my old one at my last apartment. I just moved, too.”
“Congratulations. How are you celebrating?”
“I was going to watch a movie,” he replied. “I’m not so sure that counts as celebrating, though.”
“That’s no good. You’re going to need to do better than that. I have an idea. You should come over.”
Seventh grade was never the same after his fall. Every time he saw Tracy Adams, he only felt shame. Her smiles were like daggers. Her warm glow like orange embers.
“Are you okay?”
“What?” Kevin shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not sure what happened.”
“You were just staring off into space.”
“My eyes are good, but not that good.”
She laughed.
“I get it. Like outer space?”
Kevin blushed and nodded.
“So, do you want to come over?”
He skinned his knee from the fall. He wasn’t sure how it had happened. Perhaps it was a rough spot on the tiled floor or a piece of crumpled paper with a million edges that could cut him.
“You’re doing it again,” she said.
“I’m Kevin, by the way.” He smoothed his shirt and stuck out his hand. “If I’m going to be attending your celebration, you should at the very least know my name.”
“We’ve already met,” she replied. “Sort of.”
By the time Kevin was in the eighth grade, Tracy had moved. He remained vigilant as he walked the halls. He remained cold, ice cold — careful to never fall in love again.
“I don’t believe we have,” he said.
“I’m Tracy. Tracy Adams. We went to school together for a couple of years. I remember you sat in front of me in science. Seventh grade. I had still had my natural hair color back then. Blonde. Ring any bells?”
The wall on the opposite side of the aisle began dancing toward him. His heart pressed the gas in the sports car that was his body.
“I tripped.”
“What?”
“In the seventh grade. I tripped right in front of you.”
“You did?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I guess not.” She shrugged. “Did you get hurt?”
“Not really.” He placed his hands in his pockets. “Your party sounds fun. I’d like to go.”
“Great.” She pulled out her phone. “What’s your number?”
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