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I take it from her and rub it between my fingers for a moment. It’s definitely softer than the green one, and the color isn’t bad. She takes her pink yarn and the chunky knitting needles over to my couch. I sit down beside her as she turns on the TV and starts pulling up knitting tutorials on YouTube. I notice her camera recording us from the corner of the room and mentally give myself a pep talk.Just act natural. No one is actually watching you right now.I ignore the fact that there will potentially be thousands upon thousands of people watching it in the future, though. If I think about that, I might run out of this apartment.
“Okay, Macho Man, let’s get started,” Ellis says. She settles her back against the couch and picks up her needles. She holds them clumsily in her hands, but she’s new. That’s to be expected. I copy her because I assume she’s watched some of these videos before tonight and knows a little of what she’s doing.
The video starts with the woman telling us how to knot the yarn onto one of the needles. You’d think that wouldn’t be too hard, but you would be thinking wrong. We have to rewind it four times to rewatch. I squint as I watch the video, trying to make sure I see every tiny movement the woman’s needles make. Ellis fumbles with her knot several times before getting it onto the needle. After watching her do hers, I do my knot. Iget it on the first try, and Ellis gives me a dirty look that I’m assuming is meant to be playful.
The woman goes on to explain how to “cast on.” I have no idea what that means, and it’s really hard to follow what her hands are doing. She shows us slowly once, but then she starts moving faster than the speed of light. Doesn’t she know that we’re clueless? I continue to squint at the TV. I’m completely lost. Ellis tries to copy her movements, but she ends up making a big jumble of her yarn and having to undo everything.
We rewind the video again and again and again, and finally, Ellis manages to get her stitches onto the needle perfectly. She holds the needle up for my inspection with a proud look on her face. Her nose is scrunched up in the cutest way. I force myself to look away from it, or I won’t be able to concentrate for the rest of the night. I never had a desire to learn how to knit, but now this is starting to feel personal.
I get to work and eventually have a row cast onto the needle. My stitches look okay, but she insists I try again. She wants mine to look perfect too. I won’t bother telling her that it doesn’t matter what this scarf looks like because it’s unlikely that I’ll ever wear it. It’ll probably sit in my closet, only ever pulled out for me to look at and reminisce.
We undo my previous work and start redoing it. Ellis ends up taking the yarn and needles from my hands and doing it herself in the name of giving me a slower, easier-to-see demonstration. I lean in close to her hands, watching them move. She has nice hands. Long, slender fingers with nicely manicured nails. And they look so soft.
Focus, Josiah!
After I get the hang of it and get my first row cast on, we continue on with the next section of the video that teaches us how to do the rows upon rows upon rows that will eventuallymake our scarves. It looks monotonous…and boring. We do about three rows each, and Ellis gives me a little serotonin boost when she gives me a huge smile and praises my work.
Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad.
I do three more rows and then show her my work. She holds up her work too, looking baffled by the odd curve that’s forming on the side of her scarf. Somehow her scarf is gradually getting wider, and she has no idea how she’s done it. I try to hold in my laughter, but she sees it on my face. She immediately starts undoing all her rows, grumbling and cursing my perfectly straight rows.
“I want it to be pretty. I wouldn’t be able to wear it like that,” she complains. She immediately starts redoing her work, counting the stitches every time she finishes a new row. She’s doing much better this time. The rows look neat and tidy.
After we get the hang of it well enough, we turn on a movie. I hardly pay attention to it because I’m so focused on getting these rows just right. I’m almost embarrassed to say it, but this is actually really fun and relaxing now that I know what I’m doing. So, I guess I will accept that old-lady card after all.
Ellis ends up abandoning her knitting on the coffee table after a while and snuggling up next to me to watch the movie with a bowl of buttery popcorn while I continue working on my scarf. “Why are you so good at everything?” she asks in a sleepy voice.
“Uh, I’m not. You saw me trying to rock climb last week,” I say, laughing at the absurdity of her statement. I was probably the worst rock climber that gym had ever seen. I can never show my face there again.
“Okay, but that was just one thing. And they said it was probably because you’re so tall and bulky.” She nuzzles further into me, making it difficult to move my right arm and continueknitting. I finish the row I’m working on and place the needles in my lap.
“You didn’t like the knitting?” I ask, feeling disappointed for her. She seemed so excited when she got here with all her supplies. I don’t even want to think about how much money she must have spent on all of it.
“Eh, it was okay. I’m just glad I get to hang out with you like this,” she says. “I’ve missed this.”
I look down at her face pressed against my shoulder. The scent of her shampoo lingers in the air. I don’t know what it is—something fruity that reminds me of summer. It’s pure heaven having her near me like this, but at the same time, it’s agony. This is so close to being everything I’ve dreamed we could be but yet so far. I want to pull her into my lap, run my fingers through the soft waves of her hair, and just once, I’d like to kiss her lips. I just know kissing her would ruin me for good.
No. No, I can’t think like this. I push the thoughts away and refocus on what we were talking about. Were we saying something about the movie? No, it was the knitting. She wasn’t having fun with it.
“Well, I guess it’s on to the next activity, then?” I ask, curious about what she’ll choose to try next. I fully plan to finish my scarf, though. Maybe I’ll figure out how to make a matching hat too. She sits up a little and looks at her pile of yarn and knitting needles on the coffee table. She looks like a kid who didn’t get her one and only birthday wish. She needs her pink-and-purple homemade scarf. It would be a travesty for her to not get it.
“I suppose so,” she sighs. She snuggles back down in my side, and I wrap my arm around her. I give the top of her head a quick kiss because I can’t resist. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest as I wonder what she thinks about it. I’vealways wanted to do that, but this is the first time I’ve ever dared. Did I overstep? Is it going to freak her out? Oh God, what if she feels violated!
“Mmm, I love forehead kisses,” she says with a dreamy smile on her face. Every ounce of blood in my veins turns to molten lava. The words I’ve repressed for so long are on the tip of my tongue. Caleb said I should just tell her. Maybe he is right. If there was ever a perfect moment to say the words, this would be it. But forehead kisses could be platonic. What if that’s how she viewed that kiss? I push the words back down like I always do and lean my head back against the couch, internally warring with myself.
10
Ellis
Last night with Josiah was not what I expected. I had wanted it to feel like our hangouts from high school or college…the way they felt before I had a long-term boyfriend. We’d watch a movie while working on a project. When we were in school, he always had some kind of artsy-fartsy assignment he had to work on. Usually drawing or painting or some form of digital art. I’d come over and talk his ear off the whole time he worked, and he’d pretend that I drove him crazy. He also pretended to hate it when I called him—the physical embodiment of a jock—artsy-fartsy. But I always knew he secretly loved it.
While we did do exactly as I set out to do, the feel of the room was completely different. Fundamentally, Josiah and I are different people than we were when in college. We’ve grown and matured. Our worldviews have changed by life experience, and we’ve been stretched and pulled by life. We’ve morphed into these adult versions of ourselves, and we haveto figure out where we fit into each other’s lives now that things have changed.
But the difference last night goes beyond that. There was a tension in the room that has never been there before. I could practically feel it vibrating between us. It was like something was just on the verge of happening, but I don’t know what. And I desperately want to know what!
When Josiah put his arm around me and kissed my head, I swear every nerve ending in my body began to hum. I couldn’t wait to see what he would do next. I suddenly wanted more. More of what, though? I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I don’t think I ever will again.
I pull up the video from last night and begin watching it for what must be the millionth time in the last hour. Josiah looks adorable holding those clunky knitting needles in his massive hands. He’s so focused and holding it so close to his face so he can see every tiny stitch he makes. I watch the video as past me shows him my sloppy work, and he stops what he’s doing to look. He gives it a quick glance but doesn’t linger on it for long. He’s mostly looking at me, and the look on his face is something I’ve never noticed before. Has he always looked at me like that? With those burning eyes and that soft smile that makes me feel all woozy in the head. Is this what our moms were talking about in the kitchen that day when we were eavesdropping? Why and how have I never seen it before?
