Pin 3: Touch

Twenty-one.

<< Free today?

>> No not really

<< Dark Day?

>> Little day!

No Days had really fallen out of my lingo; over the past few weeks, it was clear that they could be broken up into two more specific, polarizing categories.

Dark Days were the ones to worry about. Those were the days when the heavy feelings would weigh her down, when bad ideas would pop into her head and she’d exhaust herself trying to keep them under control. Sometimes it was because of something her parents had said or something she saw on TV. Sometimes it wasn’t because of anything at all. She either wouldn’t sleep or would do nothing but sleep. She took forever to answer her phone. These were the days with soft, quiet eyes, when she had nothing to say or no energy to say it. These were the days she worked so tirelessly to hide from everyone. Everyone but me.

Little Days were another thing entirely. When she had the house to herself, when she was feeling up to it, she would make believe she was a little girl. Little was her word, something she used to describe all the kid stuff. As I understood it, her Little Days made the rest of the days easier: it made things light and sunny again. But for whatever reason, I wasn’t allowed to be around on those days. I think she was embarrassed.

I locked my phone and put it down on my bed. Finally, it was warm enough that Polly had started coming over again. Of course, there was even less to do at my house.

“No Sunshine today?” Polly asked.

“Nope.”

“You don’t need to go rushing over there to take care of her like last time we hung out?”

“Is that jealousy I detect, Polly?”

She rolled her eyes.

“How are you and Tom?”

She groaned.

“That good, huh?”

She muted the television; it was distracting her. Polly never was good at multitasking.

“It’s not that I don’t like him. I do. But we don’t… click.” She pushed her fingers together, like that meant something. “It feels like a chore sometimes, spending time with him. But I want to spend time with him! I just want the time to be better.”

“Like go on dates?” I offered.

“Not even that much. Just…” And then she rolled over on my bed so she was looking me right in the eye. “I want us to be more like you and Madison.”

“…uh. Well, Madison and I aren’t dating.”

“No, but whenever you guys are around I feel like such a third wheel! Like, you stare at her and smile when she’s not looking. And you have all these inside jokes. And you guys have entire conversations without even saying anything. I swear, when we went to Andy’s Diner, you guys played with salt packets for ten minutes!”

“So you want Tom to play with salt more?”

“Jamie,” Polly said in a tone I was very familiar with. It was the “take this seriously now” tone. So I sighed and motioned for her to continue. “You two just feel so connected all the time. Even when you’re not trying to be. And with Tom, even when I try to be, it only works half the time.”

“I don’t think you can really compare us like that.” Madison and I weren’t a couple. We didn’t have couple problems. If friendship was making break-and-bake cookies, couples had to make them from scratch. Of course we had it easier. It was also much less rewarding. Didn’t she see that?

And just as Polly had been jealous of me a moment before, I was now very jealous of her.

“How do you do it?” she asked. “Sunshine was literally the most annoying thing in the world to you, and now you’re head over heels. And not just sometimes, but all the time. Like, you never even doubt it. What’s your secret?”

“There’s no secret. I just like her.”

“All the time?”

“Yeah?”

“Doesn’t she annoy you, or frustrate you, or do things you don’t like?”

“Sure. Like, every day. But just because she says and does stuff I don’t like doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

“That makes no sense,” Polly said with frustration.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to,” I admitted. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to be difficult. I just didn’t have an answer for her question, not a real answer anyway. Not one I could quantify or put into words. I only had feelings.

Polly took the TV off mute for a few minutes, and then muted it again.

“I should break up with Tom.”

“You shouldn’t chase some arbitrary fantasy,” I told her.

“I don’t think it’s a fantasy to want what you have.”

“Unrequited feelings?” I joked.

“Unconditional ones.”