11. North

eleven

North

Somehow, I make it to bed, but now I'm lying here flat on my back, hands locked behind my head, staring at the ceiling. I don't settle as I replay everything I said to Gia over and over in my head. It is so easy to converse with her. She was so attuned, and acted like she had nothing better to do than spend time with me, though she has a literal mountain of work to get back to at her dad's house.

My eyes drift to my alarm clock. 2:14, and I'm still wide awake with a cheesy grin on my face. I can't help but wonder if things would have been different for us had I not been so shy. I had fallen in love with her literally the first time I saw her, but being shy, I made friends with Rocco first. I thought he could be the bridge to bring us together, but it had turned out to be the opposite. All he ever did was warn me to stay away from her. I tried for years to forget about her, but it was useless. There's always a gigantic pull when she is near, like my soul recognizes her presence, and I don't want to deny that anymore.

Even if I wanted to, I don't think I can. It's been escalating so much. Now that I've finally had a chance to sit down with her, I feel like if I don't let her know how I feel soon, I'm going to explode.

I get up early, head over to the church, where I sit in the same pew I've sat in every week for the last decade. After the service, I stop at the Coffee Loft for my daily spiced chai and that cherry mocha Gia had mused about. While I wait for our drinks, I tap my leg and stare at the menu. I should get something for Mr. Bella, too. I have no idea how he likes his coffee. Wanting it to be a surprise, I don't text to ask. "How about an extra mocha," I add to my order after Portia made my other two drinks.

"Absolutely, chai guy." She smiles at me coyly. "Are you seeing your lady friend again today?" The mere mention of Gia makes my heart stutter like a manual car that can't find its gear. "Who said she is my lady friend?"

"She's a lady, and I assumed she's a friend. Most people don't have coffee with their enemies." She holds on to a teasing smirk as she hands over a drink carrier with three cups.

I grab the drink carrier and simply say, "Thanks for the drinks."

"See you tomorrow." She waves at me until I turn my back. As I walk out the door, I text Gia.

Me: Are you ready for backup?

Gia: Yes! I found his stored canned food collection. Some of these pickles are older than me and have horns growing out of them!

The anticipation of seeing her sets my gut in fire knots. There've been so many times I've wanted to spend time with her that I can't believe it's finally happening. Though, I chuckle that it's not the romantic picnic or walk on the beach, I would have wished for. Nope. I'm literally going over there to clean out her dad's junk.

Yet, I couldn't be more excited, and I grin all the way to her house.

After parking in my driveway, I kill the engine, grab the drinks, and cross the front yard to her dad's. I've taken this path so many times under the pretense of seeing Rocco, when I was actually doing all I could to get a glimpse of Gia. Even after all these years, the grass never regrew fully. I make it to the front step. It's barely forty degrees out, but my palms gloss with sweat.

I'm sure it's the coffees.

It couldn't be anything else.

It's definitely not my stomach flutters.

I shuffle my feet a few times before I decide on the perfect stance to take. I need one that doesn't make me look too eager, yet excited to see her. I hold the drink carrier by the handle and knock quickly before casually leaning against the house with my free hand. All the effort to look relaxed is wasted when Mr. Bella promptly swings open the door.

"North, what a neighborly thing to do." He stands back, and I pass over the threshold. "Gia was telling me you're helping today." He leans in close, dropping his voice to a whisper, "Between you and me, I don't need any help. I'm allowing her to do this because I think she's miserable and misses—" Gia rounds the corner, and Mr. Bella interrupts himself mid-sentence shouting out, "It looks like you brought refreshments. What a saint!"

Gia's gaze catches mine, and a ping blasts to my heart. "Hey," she says softly, the sweetest smile curling on her lips. "I was half-expecting you to have a late awakening about what you agreed to do, and bail."

"No." Shaking my head, I struggle for the right words. Words to tell her there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be. I'm more than willing to throw out moldy food if it means I can see her. "I'm a man of my word. I'm here as I said I would be." I retrieve her drink from the carrier and offer it to her. "And, I picked up the cherry mocha you wanted to try."

"That's very sweet of you." Her lashes lower to the cup, and she doesn't wait to sip out of it. "Thank you."

I pivot and turn back to Mr. Bella. "I couldn't remember how you take your coffee, so I grabbed you one of Gia's mochas too. I hope that's acceptable."

"It's much appreciated." He takes the cup from my hand, and with his free hand pats my back the way he's always done. "Thanks, son."

"So." Gia's voice ticks up a notch, taking on an adventurous tone. "Shall I show you to the pantry and the mystery pickles? I don't have the stomach to dump them out myself. I'd love to stand back on that one."

"I got it." I step toward the kitchen, ready to banter. "My stomach's as strong as steel. If you've got petrified pickles, I can handle it."

Gia opens the large walk-in pantry and motions to the bottom shelf. There're rows of mason jars with dark murky water with barely visible shadows of items inside. "Have at it." Her shoulders bounce as if she's suppressing a dry heave. She's clearly in agony, but I find her animation quite adorable.

"I'll be across the kitchen, sorting through his shot glass collection."

"Hey!" Mr. Bella pipes up with his nose toward the cupboard. "You'd better not get rid of any of those. They're souvenirs from our travels."

"Dad, you don't even drink." She whips open the cupboard to display stacks of shot glasses, one from every state, and every sports logo ever.

"They might be worth money someday." Mr. Bella advances toward the cupboard, but Gia maintains her position, blocking him from getting nearer.

"They'll be worth money now, because I'm selling them on eBay." She's stern in her stance, revealing how feisty she is, and it makes my heart pitter even faster. I don't think there's anything about Gia I don't admire. Even though she can be a little sassy, it's not in a loose cannon kind of way. She always retains her softness. She just has that ability to make the people around her fold.

He rocks back on his heels, glaring at her. "Now I didn't say you can do that."

" Dad ," She says his name so gently, it's as if she's talking to a baby bird. "If you let me clean these out, I promise I won't touch your hat collection."

He sucks in a hard breath before quickly spitting out, "Deal."

I try not to show my immediate glee as Gia and I share a victory eye lock. It's random, but yet so normal, it throws my heart into a whirlwind spin. One side of her lips curls up. If there is ever a smile to set off sparks, it's hers.

"This needs to be the last box." Gia covers her yawn with a flattened palm as I skim another giant box off the stack of doom in the back of the garage. We've cleaned all day, and now we're burning the midnight oil under the single 60-watt bulb light fixture. It sounds like drudgery but it's not. We've been laughing like kids, talking about the lost years, and sharing stolen smiles as if we're teenagers. My heart is fluttering so hard, it feels like it's in spring training camp. "I can't believe I kept you this long," Gia speaks through another yawn, this one making her eyes water.

"I'm not a prisoner. I want to be here." Each time I smile at her, we hold our gazes a little longer. At first, I thought it may be wishful thinking. She's being nice to me because I'm helping her with this never-ending junk pile. As the looks got longer, smiles turned flirtier, and I can't deny the chemistry at this point. "But I'll agree. Last box, and then we call it a night. We both work in the morning, and you still need to drive home."

"What do you think it is?" Rubbing her hands together in front of the box, she builds anticipation before digging in. "Another bug collection?"

"Judging from how heavy this one is, I'm going with more tools." I lean over and flip open the box flaps one by one.

"I hope it's not another box of clothes. That last one had way too many clothing moths in it for my comfort."

"Nah, it's too heavy to be clothes." I peer inside until I make out stacks of flat, black, and vinyl. "Records!" I gleefully report.

"Another box of records." She scoots closer, and we both take turns pulling them out to read off the funny names, " Yummy, Yummy, Yummy ."

"That sounds yummy," I tease.

"I actually remember playing this one when I was a kid." Her smile is so big, it shows all her perfectly even teeth. "Oh, The Everly Brothers," she coos and holds up the next one. "They were my mom's favorite when she was younger."

"1963." I read the date of release on the record. "It's crazy to think that wasn't that long ago, and look how music has changed. Everything is digital now."

"Sixty years." Her eyes widen as they snag on the next record still in the box. " My Girl ! I wish we had a record player because I loooove this song."

"I'm sure if we keep digging, we'll find one or two." We both chuckle lightheartedly, but I sneak my phone out of my pocket, tap on the YouTube app, and type. "I might have something better than a record player."

Her eyes shift to me when I tap on the Temptations video, and the first few chords of the song ring through my phone. I set my phone on the box as her gaze goes to watch the video, but that's not what I have in mind. Instead, I hold out my hand, gesturing for her to stand. "I think I still owe you a dance."

"Are you for real?" Her brows raise, but she slips her hand into mine, and suddenly time slows way down.

"I hope I'm not too late." Of course I'm asking about the dance, but everything in my expression wants to make it about the possibility of us. My breath is even as soon as I wrap my other hand around her back and lead her into a twostep. Holding her is everything I dreamed it would be, and worth the wait times one thousand. The song is an interesting choice for a first dance as it's a bit of an up-tempo beat that causes us to sway together more than embrace tightly, and it's impossible not to sing the lyrics. We both drown out the singer through our off-key belting, but we are giggling nonstop by the time the song ends.

"It's been too much fun today, North." When the song is over, she sighs dreamily and slips out of my arms, heading back to the box of records, staring down at them. "Should we keep the records, or sell them?"

"Vinyl can be worth a lot of money, and you can't replace it easily. I'd say, this is one thing he can hold onto."

"Deal." She closes the box and pushes it back against the wall. "He can keep them." Standing up straight, she brushes off her jeans. "As promised, that is the last box. Thank you for helping."

"The pleasure is all mine. I really enjoyed spending time with you." Her smile lingers in what I have come to recognize as her flirting smile. "So, you are heading back home tonight. Are you going to return any time soon?"

"Oh yeah." She dramatically scans the rest of the boxes. "I haven't made a dent, and I'm not a quitter. I'll be back up next weekend."

"I look forward to it. Give me a holler, and I'll come help."

"I hate to bother you again. This is an awful lot of work, but I do look forward to seeing you again. Maybe we can do something else, too?"

"Yeah…I'd like that, too." I'm not a genius, she's fishing for me to ask her out, but something feels off. It's not for lack of flirting, but there's a knot in my gut, begging me to play it safe. "Ah, my boys actually have a game on Friday night. If you make it back early, you're more than welcome to come watch."

"A football game?" Her gaze angles away, as if floating back to her memories. "Boy, I don't think I've been to that field since you blew out my knee."

"You'll be safe." I hold both my hands up as if I'm under arrest. "I promise, I'll watch my big clown feet, and nothing bad will happen. You might have some fun."

"Maybe I'll make a point to get off work a little earlier so I can come."

"Yeah, I'd love to see you again."

"Me too." I zip my lips, vowing not to go into the longest goodbye again. This time I gaze into her eyes, enjoying how they seem to change colors as they sparkle under the faint garage light. Part of me craves to wrap my arms around her and pull her close. From the look she is giving me, I know she'd kiss me. We've known each other twenty years, it's not like it's too soon, but another part of me wants to savor the sweetness we have between us right now. I don't need to rush anything.

I pull the string on the garage light, and we walk together out of the open overhead door. We are quiet as we walk side by side to her door. I wait on the grass as she hops up the steps and I call to her, "Night, Gia."

"Night, North." She flashes a wave at me and her soft smile beams before she ducks inside.

Sighing, contentedly, I head across the yard to my house, humming the tune to My Girl, when something catches my eye. A box is sitting outside of the garage on the driveway. I don't remember putting it there. Maybe Gia dragged it out to make more room? It should be fine there until morning, but you never know…it might be something valuable. Just to be safe, I circle back, grab the box, and take it inside my house. I can run it over to Mr. Bella tomorrow when I see him outside.

Once inside, I place the box on the kitchen table. The top flaps aren't taped shut, looking as if we already went through this box. I don't remember it though. Curiosity piques, and I lift the corner of one flap. Bulldog red, blue and white meets my gaze, and a poster of our old high school football team comes into focus. Now that I know it's nothing personal, I flip open the flap and take the poster out. It's a game schedule with our old team roster.

Boy, Mr. Bella didn't get rid of anything.

Near the top of the photo, Rocco and I stand next to each other, arms around each other's shoulders, being the best friends we were back then. Shaking my head, I now know loyalty was only one way. I tried my hardest to be his best friend, even staying away from Gia after he asked me to, but that loyalty didn't get me anywhere. When news of his cheating scandal broke, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He made up lies about his teammates to frame them. I defended him publicly, which almost ruined my career as a coach.

I wish I believed he'd learned his lesson, but I've noticed a pattern where he always gets what he wants. His life has taken him on such a different path, and he's known for hanging out with some of the shadiest business owners, and even politicians. I know one thing…he's not a man you want to cross.

A spiral of shivers trickles down my spine.

Rocco doesn't even talk to Gia anymore.

She said so herself.

Rocco can't possibly still be obsessed with keeping us apart. That was high school. Kid stuff. Gia's a grown woman now

Could he still care?