Cherry - part 17

Percival

Front porch

“Dad, this is for you. I am leaving now, I have a dinner thing with Cherry.” His father looks at him from his desk.

“Percival, I just came from a meeting. We are not done yet.” His papers are spread on the table. That man needs to get his shit in order, Perry thinks.

“Dad, this is important. It's Cherry! Cherry Waltz! Please dad. I beg you! I've worked four hours overtime already. There must be limits somewhere.”

Then something amazing happens. His dad looks at him with a hint of proud on the corner of his eyes.

“Okay son, you can go. And give my best to Miss Waltz.”

And then Perry is gone with an 'I will'. He was so tired before, but the thought of spending an evening with Cherry was more than enough to cheer him up.

She still sits in the reception, looking like a sweet, innocent flower. Beautiful and untouched by dirty human hands.

He feels guilty about his thoughts. Luckily, she'll never know, and his thoughts continue.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks her. I am looking at the beautiful, untouched flower.

“That sure was quick.” She smiles, and her amazing smile makes him smile even wider.

I am standing next to the beautiful, untouched flower.

They walk on the sidewalk, side by side, as you do on a sidewalk. They don't touch, but they are close to each other. As close as they can be, without touching.

“So how is it to work for your dad?” She asks. Her dress moves in the subtle wind. It's kind of red but not pink and not just light red.

“It's tiring. I have never been so exhausted in my entire life.” He says and laugh to let her know that he doesn't mind being with her.

“What do you do there all day?” She flashes a smile again, caught him off guard. His heart flutters.

“All the stuff he doesn't want to do. Take some calls once in a while, run to the archive all the time. Sometimes I even get to clean his desk and separate some papers and putting them into separate folders and then, later, putting them in the archive. Yeah, I know. Exciting shit.”

And they laugh again. She seems nervous. He is too nervous to even notice. She's just so darn beautiful. He doesn't know what to do in these kinds of situations. Should he offer her his jacket? Is she even cold? He doesn't feel any chill.

“As long as you get paid, right?” She answers, and they laugh.

He has been there a few times for a ball, but never inside her own room. It reminds him of Zia's room, classy, but a bit more pink than hers. She calls for James over the radio system. She orders chicken. He says “ditto” and they wait.

“Percival, can I ask you something?” Cherry says, and her confidence seems long gone. He smiles, tries to put her at ease.

“Of course.”

“Why did you choose Cathy? Why did you do that anyway...” Her voice trails off, and Percival hesitates. This is the question he has been dreading all along. Especially from her. He doesn't want her to know how insecure he is. She was never supposed to know about Cathy. She was never supposed to be able to ask that kind of question. He sighs and shrugs.

“I don't really know.”
James enters the room and serves the chicken. It is without a doubt the best chicken he has had in a decade.

“I don't want to talk about Cathy.” He says, out of the blue. She looks at him, concerned. Then she nod once.

“I spoke with her.” Her voice seems so small. He cannot believe what he's hearing. The whore he hired spoke with the girl he has been in love with for a year now.

“Why?” That's the only thing he could think of asking.

“I didn't understand. I didn't seem like you.”

“But it was me.”

“That's why I spoke to her.”

“What did she say?”

“Something about you being insecure. And I didn't understand that either.”

His face is suddenly a bit darker. He can feel it.

“You don't know me.” It sounds more harsh than it should.

“I don't. But I would like to.”

He doesn't really know how she turned a dark conversation to flirting, but they ease up suddenly, share a smile and the silence is quite comfortable now.

The chickens were delicious. He takes a seat on her couch and she places herself on the giant bean bag chair.

“You would like to get to know me?” He looks straight at her. She smiles. She is so horribly pretty when she smiles.

“I would like to get to know you. Where do you want to start?” She smiles again, she must be realizing that she's kind of flirting with him. He shrugs.

“Favorite color?” She says.

“Green. Yours?”

“Red. And every shade of it.” She looks around and gestures to the room. They laugh.

“Okay. What's the color of your toothbrush?”

“Also green. Yours?”

“Blue, right now.”

“Do you have any animals?”

“I wanted a dog for many years, but father is against it. I don't think Zia would want to have that kind of responsibility right now.”

“How about you and Zia? Are you two close siblings?”

“Could be better. But we love each other unconditionally, of course. Our father just has this way of... separating us...”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Every family has their troubles. I suppose your family isn’t perfect either.”

“Nope, not even a little bit.”

And they are quiet again.

“Didn't my sister use to babysit you?” He breaks the silence after several minutes.

“She did indeed. Very good, too.”

“How come we never met before high school if you knew my sister so well?” He listens to his own words, his tired voice. She must think he's bored. He is almost lying on the couch, wishing he could close his eyes, just relaxing in the presence of Cherry. She looks at him and he is instantly nervous, yet he is completely relaxed. His mood seems to change ever fifth minute.

“She actually never spoke of you.” Cherry explains, and Percival wonders why she never spoke of him. Why wouldn't she mention her little brother? Was she ashamed?

“And she never used to babysit me at your place.” She adds. Percival sighs. Why didn't Zia ever talk about him when she was babysitting Cherry? On the other hand, why didn't she ever talk about Cherry when she was at home? He cannot help but feel a great loss. They would without a doubt have a better relationship now if they had known each other when they were children. He takes a look at his watch. It's 11.30 and he needs to get home and sleep. Another day starts again tomorrow.

Just the thought made him twice as tired.

“I should go.” He mumbles. “My dad is probably going to make me pay for leaving before cleaning the office today.” He gets up and drags his tired body across the floor towards the door.

“I'll follow you out.” Cherry gets up as well. He can tell she's tired too.

They walk down and pass her father in one of the hallways. Percival greets him. Mr. Waltz nod at him with a smile.

They stand in the front porch and he is about to leave. He is very conscious about his lack of know-how in these kinds of situations. Well, what now? The night had gone well, at least he thought so. This wasn't a date, so he wasn't allowed to kiss her, even though he wanted to. He looked around and asked himself what's stopping you? The moonlight? The clear sky and the starry night? The warm summer breeze? He looks at her. She looks at him once in a while. Is she just as nervous as me? He wonders.

“Thank you, for keeping me company.” She smiles, and the next few seconds seems very long.

“It was all my pleasure.” His voice cracks, that's how nervous he is. She smiles.

He decides to hug her. Her smell is overpowering and the warmth from her body makes his seem like ice. He doesn't get a lot of hugs. He never saw hugging as a possibility, unless it was close family. He hugs Zia, but never his dad or mom. He hold her tight for a second, feeling her arms around him.

He just never wants to let go.