Summary: Anon and Naomi reach a critical point, confessing to one another whether or not they have feelings for one another, or if they are simply using each other. The rest of the day was a blur, before I knew it, I was making the same walk back to my domicile. Wait a second, I haven’t felt my phone buzz to warn me about any spam emails or scammers… I slide it out of my pocket, clicking the home button. I clicked the home button. Nothing. Just to top off this great day, my phone died. I could, and couldn’t care less, I simply wanted to be home. Embarrassing myself in front of the principal, in front of Naomi. How wrong I was to think we wanted the same thing. A fool. Am I interjecting my fantasies of Fang with Naomi, or did I really feel that way? It felt like pins stuck through my heart, each of them memories, fantasies and dreams. Finally, I reached Skin Row, my apartment. This shit was almost making me wish I was back home, I would gladly return to my tribulations and mockery if it meant these feelings would go away. My keys jingled as I shoved them into the lock, twisting the doorknob open. That cold stagnant air that I’ve grown to be familiar with flooded my nostrils, seeped into my clothes. I plugged my phone into the charger, and dropped it onto the bed. The chair popped and creaked as I sat, sighing, groaning. Swiveling around, I hit the Alt key to wake the computer. No matter how hard I shitposted, how meticulously I picked dino-soyjaks for Bulgarian Coffee-grinding forums, they clawed forward from the back of my mind. I would blink, and see her. Fang, Naomi, whenever I paid any mind to the thoughts, it would change between the two. Smacking myself, I forced my attention back to the off-white monitor. Yousnoot break-up songs playing in the background, scrolling mindlessly. Maybe I could call my dad, ask for advice, but I wasn’t sure how he would react if I told him that Not Only had I been with, and broken up with a pterodactyl, but I was falling for yet another fucking dinosaur. Maybe by now, my phone would have enough charge to turn on, being 45 minutes after I had gotten home. I held the power button, and the brand logo seared into my eyes, until it finally loaded the lockscreen. Before I could finish swiping the lock, it buzzed. I canceled the swipe to pull down the notifications bar, two missed phone calls. Naomi. My heart dropped. They were within minutes of each other, half an hour ago. Maybe she was confessing to me, maybe she was calling to say she didn’t want me to talk to her anymore. Fuck. I unlocked my phone, my throat closed, looking at the name in my notifications. I grabbed my chest, forcing myself to breathe, until I bit my knuckles, tapping on the voicemail. “...n’t know wh… Anon… and i-” The message ended. A massive sigh released from my lungs, catching my breath. Again, I didn’t realize I was holding it in. Wait. She said my name. I tapped the messenger app, then tapped on Naomis’ default contact picture. What do I say? Why didn’t she text me? Maybe Naomi didn’t know she had called, and simply butt-dialed me. Single letters filled the message bar, before erasing them one by one. I- Did y- Hey- I stared at the screen. Her phone number. DEFCON 1 Naomi is typing. This was the eleventh hour. Countdown to doomsday. Why couldn’t she have just called me on purpose when my phone was dead, and said she hated me? I watched fervently as the animated dots danced where her next message would appear. Naomi: r u busy?? Me: no Me: did you mean to call earlier? phone was dead Naomi: o ya :laughing: sry! butt-dialed haha Me: … … … Do I ask why she mentioned me, by name? Who would she be talking to about me? Naomi: can we talk? It felt like I was a child again, the “we need to talk”-talk. Everything I could possibly feel, I felt. Anxious, scared, sick, infuriated, my stomach was tied in a variety of knots. Why did she have to do this? Okay, on the other hand. If she somehow felt the same way I did for her, emphasis on Somehow, and these were the steps I needed to take to achieve it, I would do it. I bit the side of my lip, groaning silently. Me: yeah. we can talk. call? Naomi: can we meet somewhere? A date? No- Shut up. This isn’t a date. Two friends are meeting someplace to talk. To discuss recent events. To talk about our friendship. But I couldn’t help but entertain the thought. Maybe this could be our first date. Maybe we could find somewhere romantic. Naomi: Dino-Moes? Nevermind. I slipped my shoes back on, checked my bank account. Fuuuck. No way I can afford a cab, I might be able to ask my parents for some allowance money, but I haven’t actually talked to them much the entire time I’ve been here. Me: how soon? might be late. walking. Naomi: i can pick u up, dw Wait, Naomi has a car? Naomi has Had a car this entire time? Naomi: ill be there in about 15 Me: :thumbsup: As I stood on the sidewalk in front of my apartment, I was trying to preoccupy myself. Bad news, good news, whatever happens will happen. It might have already happened. Naomi probably knew where I lived due to her abuse of power as ‘class president’, just like my Japanese Animes. Finally, the older Prius rounded the corner. I chuckled, of course it would be a Prius. I can already almost smell the excessive perfume, the plush, pink interior and maybe a TRIKE LIVES MATTER bumper sticker. The silver car slowed to a stop in front of me, and with a click of the door lock, she beckoned me in quickly. The interior was just as dull as the exterior, almost mint condition besides the crease-lines in the gray-leather seats. New Car scent freshener hung from the mirror. “I didn’t realize how bad this part of town was, Anon…” Naomi winced, locking the doors as soon as I shut mine, Safely racing off as we went on our way. “What did you ah… want to talk about, Naomi?” “Can we wait until we get there?” “Yeah, I just- Mm, anticipation is killing me, I guess.” It felt like minutes had passed, the quiet drive, the Overly quiet hybrid car. Naomi wasn’t even playing her almost trademarked lovey-dovey pop music. Just the two of us- Fuck, I mean, we were both sitting here. I needed to fill the dead air, but trying to think of anything to say with this … scenario, it was hard. Repeatedly adjusting myself in the seat, trying not to fall into the tail-wide hole in the seat of the car. Damn meteor-dodgers and their specist functional design… “Didn’t know you had a car, I’ve only ever seen you get around with-” I choked, stopping myself from speaking. “It’s my mom’s car.” Naomi was quick to interject. Huh, I guess I never considered that Naomi actually had parents, I assumed she spawned in with the rest of the school’s population. “Oh, what are your parents like?” The car slowed to obey the red light, until coming to a stop. Both of her hands rested on the wheel as she glanced around the street in front of us, thinking. “Mom is a real estate agent, Dad- I’m not sure what he does. Something about money… Accountant?” The mental image of their home began to form. Their clean, perhaps posh abode of minimalist and modern architecture, or the odd “Live Laugh Love” sign, with one hung in the bathroom for some reason. “Anon-” “Huhwha” “I asked about your parents.” The car silently hummed as it accelerated. “My… parents? Uh, well. Nothing out of the ordinary. My dad is old fashioned, and my mom worries too much. Or did. They haven’t really talked to me much since I moved here.” Of course I was being vague on purpose, truth is, there just wasn’t much to say about them. But somehow, it was enough for Naomi to chew on as she considered what to say next. “You don’t talk to your parents?” “Why?” “Family is important- I mean, my mom texts me some mornings. She’s usually gone when I wake up.” “Does your dad?” Naomi’s face shifted subtly, as if trying to recall a forgotten memory. “He’s usually pretty busy with work.” We came to a stop, as Naomi tried to reach for my seat as she twisted her body around, looking through the rear-windshield as the car perfectly performed a parallel park. Dino-Moe’s. Wait. Moe. Holy shit. God damn it. I don’t want therapy from that T.Rex, wannabe mobster, short armed, pizza cooking-... I don’t need to hear about how “I” fucked up. Or maybe he’ll bite my hand off for potentially “hurtin’ his Luce!”. “Why here, Naomi? Of all places-” “Naser said he would come here when he needed … input. Did you know that Moe is his uncle? I don’t see the resemblance-” Naomi you ignorant slut. “Moe, the artery-clogged fossil that might think WE broke up with Fang and Naser. Not only that, but will see us together here, not even a full two weeks after. In his restaurant. On a da- Not-Date.” The car honked as it locked, but Naomi had frozen. “This- It’s not- This isn’t a date. I-” Naomi squeaked a word at a time, her pale cheeks glowing a light red. Fuck. That was not my intention. I just made her blush. Fuck. …How do I keep doing that? “I misspoke- I just… Fang’s venue- we- I accidentally kept calling it a-” Naomi gave me a smug side-eye as she walked towards the entrance. I could already smell the thick, warm smell of dough and various meat. The amber glow of the lanterns and candles beckoned the two of us through the stained glass doors. It looked like a religious mural of Raptor Jesus, but he had a pizza spatula. The bored hostess parted her lips with a feigned, forced smile. “Welcome to Dino-Moes. How many?” “Just the two of us.” Fuck you, Bill Withers. “Table or booth?” “Booth is good. Booth, please.” Naomi whimpered. The hostess grabbed two menus, walking away from the small podium as she led us to the open booth which still had drying rag marks from the overworked busboy. The two of us took our seats opposite of one another. “I hope you don’t mind me uh, the- the booth. The tail-holes for the chairs are a bit too small for comfort.” Naomi chuckled nervously. “Nope. I was about to say booth. I prefer them.” I deflated, sitting back as I slouched. “that guy that… wanted to see-” The kitchen doors burst open, Moe appeared, carrying a platter with burning candles and breadsticks. “‘NONNY!” He shouted, causing a majority of the guests to snap their focus to him. He didn’t even notice as he continued his march. “Ahhh, ‘Nonny-boy! I’m so sorry ta hear about you and-” Moe’s toothy grin slowly died away as he scanned us both. “Ah, you’re rolling with … Her now? That’s… Quick, ‘innit? …For botha ya?” His cheery voice, which was by default gravely, was even more hoarse now. He’s going to murder me. He slowly places the platter on the wooden table, pulling a rag from the pocket of his apron, gripping it with both. “No- Moe, we’re not-” I looked at Naomi, my hands shaking as I tried to explain. “We need your help, Moe.” Moe slapped the rag on the table as he pulled a chair up the table, spinning it around to sit on it backwards. “What’s gots you twos in the dumps?” His demeanor changed again, like he was excited to be able to practice his profession of under-the-table counseling. Naomi sank into the red leather seat, but I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. “Naomi and me-” Now it really was ‘now or never’. If she brought us here to talk to Moe, about our feelings- If she had feelings for me, if I had feelings for her. What if I was misreading the situation? Shit, think. Do I want this with her? I think so. Do I want to take the risks necessary to achieve it? God damn it. “I know that we… Fang and me, Naser and Naomi- The wound is still fresh.” “Yeah, I gets dat. Young love. It doesn’t always last.” Moe nodded, scratching the bottom of his jaw. Risking it all now. Putting it all on red. “I don’t uh… I don’t know if Naomi feels the same way- I uh…” Naomi was staring blankly at the ground, clasping her hands on the table. “Ohhhh… I get it now.” Moe smiled mischievously. “You two… How do I put this?” Shit, he wasn’t supposed to piece this together, I was supposed to be brave, God damn it. “You’s got feelings for one another, and you don’kno if it’s too soon? If it’s real?” VERY LOUD CORRECT BUZZER. Naomi said nothing, but her fiddling-fingers had stopped. Holy shit, Moe. Were you right? Was I? Holy shit? “Listen… Kids. You’s’re youngins. Your emotions and whatnot are in overdrive, yeah? ‘Specially at this age. Sometimes, they’re right. Sometimes, they’re wrong. If you two’s both think you gots that spark, just take it slow. Meet each other-ones for the first time. Do you get what I’m sayin’?” Sometimes, I guess. It didn’t help that he butchered the English language in new ways every sentence. “I think so.” Naomi whispered. “Yeah.” Moe stood with a pained grumble, shoving the chair back into place with his body. Before he stomped off, he leaned closer to me, his massive fucking face inches away from mine. His eye honed in on mine. “I know’s you’re strapped for cash, Anon. And it ain’t gentleman-ly to make your ‘date’ pay. I’ll set’cha up right.” Moe swiftly returned upright, walking back to the kitchen as muffled shouting echoed out of the swinging door. Now it was just me, Naomi, and these cheap scentless candles that flicked dimly through the red glass candle-holders. And of course, the free breadsticks. I would have shoved some into my pockets but it was a bit too slow to do it… I had to keep myself from staring at her, conspicuously bounding my gaze over her as I scanned our surroundings. The silence became awkward, then uncomfortable. Stereotypical Italian music silently poured from the old, dusty speakers. “So… you-” The music stopped, and the soft chatter of fellow restaurant goers grew quiet as well. Something caught my eye, it was Moe. Poking his head through the kitchen doors, he gave a small ‘OK’ hand signal, winking with his devilish grin. Belle Notte. ‘This is the night, it’s a beautiful night~’ FUCK YOU, MOE. Shit. God damn it, ignore it. Ignore the butterflies that began to dance in my gut. Ignore the fact that Naomi didn’t correct Moe’s assumptions about us. “So?” Naomi caught a glance at the now swinging kitchen doors, before her gaze returned to mine. “You didn’t say anything to him… About us.” “Neither did you.” “True…” I needed more confirmation, maybe she was too shy to speak up. My hands were shaking, my thumbs wrestled one-another for dominance underneath the table. “Naomi- Is… Are you, we- Damn it. I don’t want to make this awkward- I just can’t wrap my head around this.” Naomi seemed like she knew what I was going to ask, what I was going to say. She sat there, watching me squirm in my skin. “Naomi. I have feelings for you. I just didn’t know if you did too. I need to say it, and I need to know if you feel the same.” Her eyes widened slowly. The candles, the lamps that hang from the ceiling, shining in her turquoise eyes like starlight. “...Anon…” Her lips began to tremble, slowly forming a crude smile as she slipped a finger under her glasses to wipe a teary-eye. “Please, tell me I’m wrong. Or- or…” Naomi let out an exasperated mixture of a sigh and a laugh, by her tone itself I could tell she was struggling to retain her composure. “No- You’re… You’re not wrong, Anon… You’re … not.” Naomi huffed, reaching for the wrapped silverware, tugging the paper loop off as she placed them on the table. She held her glasses with one hand, wiping her face with the white cloth napkin. “Naomi… I was terrified. I thought maybe I was just imagining things, that you didn’t… Care.” “I know, Anon.” Naomi paused to wipe her nose, “I thought the same way. Felt the same way.” Naomi had completely lit up, almost glowing compared to how she was the other day. “I knew neither of us could admit it, and Moe… That’s why I brought you Here.” “So he’d be a loudmouth and say it for us?” Naomi laughed softly, hanging her head as she stared at the table once more. “So… This is our… First-” “HOT PIE COMIN’ IN, KIDDOS!” The large round dish was slid between us, shocking us from our stupor of ‘young love’. Fucking hell, how is he so stealthy? Steam slowly wafted from the dish, a sea of cheese and herbs. Half of it was covered in mushrooms, tomatoes and various salad-leafs. While the other half was pepperoni and sausage. “Don’t worry none, I know an herbi when I sees one! You twos dig in, enjoy your ‘night out’!” Moe winked before he hobbled back for the kitchen door. “Oh my- But- calories… grease…” Naomi was somewhere in between a panic attack and astonishment. “Maybe we just shut our brains off for a while… and enjoy our first… Night out.” This was nice. For once, that frozen wasteland of my mind was warmed. I wasn’t on the verge of tears, emotionally devastated or wanting to hide away from the world. I was simply Enjoying this. Enjoying this time with Naomi. We silently enjoyed our meal, with no words to speak. Simply understanding one another on a personal level. Sweet emotional release. I finally knew that she felt the same way I did. That this was mutual. That we weren’t just using each other. The road ahead of us both seemed bumpy. After all, we had only confessed our feelings. But to continue from here, I am completely lost. Naomi was nothing like… like Fang. There were no guitar lessons, clique of friends with their own drama. It was just me and her, an independent love that no one was influencing the outcome of. This time, it was just Us. This was the awkward transition from friend to something else, where we weren’t sure we could hold hands, or hug, or do anything really. We walked through the stained-glass doors of Dino-Moe’s, our hands sheepishly maintaining contact, our pinkies locked together as we walked down the street to her car. Naomi’s typical pop music played quietly during the uneventful ride back to Skin Row. The air was different, the mood, it was much brighter. I already knew it would be hard to fall asleep, the butterflies in my stomach had increased with such an intensity that I was giddy again. The moment I could have happily lived in forever was drawing to an end as the car came to a stop in front of my apartment. The doors clicked as they unlocked. “Naomi-” “Anon-” “You-” “What-” “Naomi, thank you- “Thank you for tonight- I held my lip between my teeth while Naomi laughed, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. “Go ahead.” Naomi motioned with a hand. “Naomi. I… Just wanted to thank you, is all. For everything. I guess you really do know me well enough to know-…” That I could never really confess to someone. That I’m scared and heartbroken. That I’m not the romantic type. None of it could leave my lips, stuck in the forefront of my thoughts. “It- We both needed it. I’m… glad we’re on the same page…” We smiled at each other before the dashboard suddenly became interesting to stare at, as did the rest of the car. What do we do? What do ‘I’ Do now? Do we kiss? Fuck, what if that comes off as demanding? Or that I’m rushing this, or maybe she- “Anon…” “Yeah-” “Fang was right.” “...About?” “Your mumbling. It is cute.” How much did she hear? Suddenly, Naomi grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulling ourselves together as my lips met her snout. We embraced each other in a hug as I held her head. Passion. It was as if I found a piece to a puzzle I thought I had completed. I lied on my bed, hand holding my cheek, the other arm limp at my side. It was already nearing midnight. “Goodnight, Anon…” “Goodnight, Naomi. I’ll uh… See you tomorrow?” Naomi nodded as she sat back down, shutting the door and driving away into the night. It kept replaying behind my eyes. Everything was warm and numb, in a good way. Holy shit. I am in love with Naomi.