“Here, let me help you,” Theo says, placing his hand over top of mine. He makes eye contact with me before continuing, a silent question about whether this is okay. I respond with a small nod of my head. I could use all the help I can get right about now.
Breaking eye contact, we focus on the shirt in front of us. Well, he focuses on the shirt. I’m focused on how small my hands look in his. His palms cover the backs of my hands as he helps me work the shirt into a proper spiral, asking me to hold it in place here and there so he can secure it with rubber bands.
Theo places his hands on mine again to help me secure the rubber band. Our fingers move together, interlocking to secure the knot. When his fingers linger on mine, I can’t help but look over at him, having to squint given his height and the position of the sun. When our eyes meet, the world around us begins to blur as I lose my way in Theo’s irises.
My phone dings from my pocket, breaking whatever trance Theo just put me under. His hands pull away, and I shiver from the cold chill that runs up my arm in the absence of his hand on mine.
“There we go. Now all you have to do is apply color where you want it. Easy, right?” he says, smiling down at me.
“Right,” I say, avoiding eye contact, pulling out my phone to see who’s texted me.
Dad
Hey, Pumpkin. Just found out that one of my clients at JR Construction is looking for a receptionist. Here’s the application link. He said he can guarantee an interview if you submit an application.
But think about my offer before applying. You could stay with us through the holidays while you take some time off.
I stare at my phone, wide-eyed, unable to move. My dad has been sending me a few applications here and there over the past few months. This is the first time, though, that he’s presented me with something decent.
Having already downloaded my résumé to my phone, I click the link my dad sent. Taking a few moments to fill out the application, I let out a sigh of relief when I hit submit.
Fresh air is snuffed from my lungs when I look up from my phone to see Theo staring at the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched together, and his mouth forms a flat line. Noticing he’s been caught, he focuses back on his shirt, striking up a conversation with Leo.
I send a quick reply to my dad, letting him know I’ve applied, but my stomach twists as I set my phone down. I don’t like the thought that Theo could be mad at me, but this is an opportunity I can’t pass up. An opportunity that sets me on track for completing my plan.
Besides, I’ve only sent the application. An interview doesn’t guarantee a job offer.
After a day lounging by the lake, we’re back by the tables to vote on the best shirt. The sun sets behind the lake, disappearing behind the expanse of trees and hills that surround it.
Halfway through the day, I received an interview offer from JR Construction. Although when I accepted the interview, my excitement was bogged down by Theo’s determination to avoid me all day. I’m not sure if it was our moment of sexually-charged eye contact or the fact that he clearly saw me submit a job application, but things between us have been tense since this morning.
Standing next to Theo now, I push past the suffocating silence between us as I focus on the shirt in front of me. The soft mix of pink, red, and orange in the sky is the color scheme I was aiming for on the fabric. Looking down at the shirt I hold in my hands, more brown covers the shirt than the original colors I used. At one point, I tried to add blue, inspired by the environment around me. I see now that was a mistake.
“It's nice.” Theo hesitates at his compliment, his tone contrasting with his words. His bicep flexes as he rubs the back of his neck, seemingly unsure of the words he just used to describe my unsightly shirt. It’s clear he’s not impressed, but at least he’s talking to me again.
I throw a glare his way, daring him to give my shirt another compliment when I say, “Don’t patronize me, Theo. It’s awful.”
“Here, take mine.” He takes my shirt out of my hands, swapping it with his that he’s yet to unravel.
He holds the shirt up to his chest, the smaller size looking cropped on his frame. “I’ve always thoughtbrown was a good color for me.” He throws a playful smoldering look in my direction that makes me break into a fit of laughter at the sight. He follows suit, and I appreciate the distraction from my failures.
Unraveling his shirt, I hold it up, revealing the perfect blend of blue, purple, and yellow, intricately molded into a heart that spreads from the center of the shirt.
Smiling, I say, “Wow, you’re clearly better at this than I am.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice. Give it time, and you’ll get better at it.” He says it so nonchalantly that I don’t have time to mull over the implications of his comment before Alex stands in front of us, instructing everyone to show off their shirts.
Beth’s swirl design is a vibrant combination of pinks, blues, and purples. Roman also did a swirl design, which I’ve learned from the others is what he does every year. He just picks new colors each time. Except this year, he went with one color—black.
Alex holds his shirt up, showing off a zig-zag design made from a mixture of reds, oranges, and yellows. The combination is reminiscent of fire, the shirt fitting for both him and his Mustang. Last, when Leo holds his shirt up, my jaw hits the floor. My shirt may be in last place, but his definitely takes first, no question. Who knew you could make a plaid design out of tie-dye? No wonder he had so many rubber bands on his shirt.
A vote isn’t necessary for us to come to the unanimous decision that Leo wins by a landslide. Last place, however, causes a bit more of a debate.
“Is that actually your design, Theo? The shirt looks alittle small, doesn't it?” Alex questions Theo. Not wanting Theo to come in last place because I don’t know the first thing about color theory, I open my mouth to speak up, but Theo beats me to it.
“Yeah, it’s mine. The dye must have shrunk the shirt,” He shrugs at Alex, taking full responsibility for a shirt that clearly is about to come in last place.
“Alright, well, you know what last place means.” Alex drops his shirt in front of Theo on the table, the others following suit.
