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“Not your fault,” He says simply. He reaches over and brushes my cheek with his thumb.
“I know. But it’s hard not to feel a little guilty,” I admit. He nods in response. “Let me give you a little tour.” I stand up, and take his hand in mine, tugging him up and start showing him around. As we start up the stairs he looks at all of the pictures hanging on the wall. He pays extra attention to the ones of me as a little girl.
“Oh my God, Mads,” He whispers.
“What?” I ask nervously.
“You were the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.” He smiles wide at me and I laugh.
“I was a fat baby,” I admit.
“Look how cute you were!” He insists, pointing at the picture of me around two years old. My mother shoved my chubby limbs into overalls. My hair was up in pig-tail buns and my round chubby face was smiling so hard it hurt just looking at it. He takes his phone out and snaps a picture of the photo.
“This will be your new contact photo.”
“No!” I laugh, trying to steal his phone from him. He tries to jerk it away, but I snatch it and run up the rest of the stairs. He races after me which makes me shriek and run faster. Out of instinct, I run into my room. He follows me and grabs me before throwing us both onto the bed. I am out of breath from laughing, and he is too. I have never heard him laugh so hard.
“I’ve never laughed so hard in my life,” He admits breathlessly. I grin at him.
“I literally just thought in my head, ‘I’ve never heard you laugh this hard’.” He chuckles again before rolling off of me and the bed and walking around my childhood room.
“So, this is where you were when you would think of me in high school,” He jokes.
“Yeah, where I thought of a million ways to murder you without anyone ever finding out,” I reply and he rolls his eyes at me.
“So, you were thinking about me after all…” He grins and I laugh again.
“I used to sing Taylor Swift’s ‘Mean’ into my hairbrush, and dedicate it to you,” I admit with a sigh.
He glares at me. “I don’t know that song, but I’m sure I deserved it.”
“Remember that time you tripped me in the hallway when I walked past you at your locker?” I ask, remembering that day.
“No, no, no,” He says quickly.
“Yes you did!” I point my finger at him accusingly.
“Shit.” He scrubs his face with his hands. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say that. I mean ‘crap’.” He says quickly which makes me smile. “No, seriously…I know what you’re talking about. This…this has haunted me for years.”
I cross my arms, playfully glaring at him, waiting.
“You were walking down the hallway, looking at a book while you walked, which is dangerous…for someone who is so…clumsy. And cute. But very clumsy,” He says and I roll my eyes. “I was watching you. I dropped a pen on the ground and it rolled right in front…in front of where you were walking. I panicked and tried to…to move it with my foot and…and I ended up…tripping you.” He puts his head in his hands.
I’m stunned and I manage to sputter, “You could have told me that! I thought you did it vindictively!”
“I wanted to!” He exclaims. “You already made me nervous, but now I had made you trip and you looked up at me so angrily…so I, I just…walked away.” He looks at me apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”
I start laughing then and can’t stop. He groans and walks over to me. “It’s funny now that I know you,” I admit.
“I’m still sorry.” He put his forehead against mine.
“Forgiven,” I say and kiss his nose. He smiles and turns away from me.
He looks around at the things I kept in my room. There are tons of pictures, mostly of Ana and I, framed certificates from various accomplishments and awards, books stacked neatly on my bookshelf, and little knick knacks scattered on different surfaces.
“I think you’re a hoarder,” He says seriously. I know he is joking, but I glare at him anyway.
“If I’m a hoarder…then you’re…the opposite of a hoarder…” I start before stopping. He looks at me amused. “That sounded better in my head.” He chuckles again. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I confess, blushing a little at the way he looks at me. “It means so much to me that you came to meet my parents.”
