Read To Feel the Stars :: Fifteen: A Bad Idea

Fifteen: A Bad Idea

“A date?” Rocket stumbles over the simple question, his grip tightening on Philo’s hand without meaning to.

“Yeah. Like dinner?” Philo’s eyes widen, holding onto the hope of Rocket’s answer.

“I thought I was imagining things, between us. All this time.” Rocket starts, voice wavering and soft. “And then you ask me to go on a date, just like that. No warning.”

Philo lets out an awkward laugh, and he can feel the nervous sweat accumulating in the palms of his and Rocket’s hands. He wants to pull his hand away, but he stays put.

“You weren’t imagining anything.” Philo clears his throat, and the affectionate look that melts over Rocket’s face sends shivers down his spine. “I’ve wanted to ask you on one for a while, now. Ever since we were in college together.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” Rocket’s leaning forward now, on his elbows. He props himself up on the console, leaning his chin into his palm. Rocket lets go of his hand, then, wiping away at the clammy sweat. He was thankful that Rocket did not seem to mind.

Philo cannot come up with an answer in the moment, not sure himself, but it proves to be fine. Right at that second, Eero comes strolling out of the apartment doors, a water bottle clutched in his fingers so tight that the bottle has crumbled in on itself. He opens it, takes a gulp, and stands right behind Philo, his looming shadow forcing them to conclude their private conversation.

“Hey, guys! What’s taking so long? You pulled up like, ten minutes ago.”

“I’ll text you, ‘kay?” Philo nods to Rocket, who bites on a grin. Philo slaps the hood of his car with elation and closes the door. To which Rocket drives the car out of the parking lot. Philo watches his car disappear down the road, and then he slowly turns to face Eero, a scowl sharp on his face.

“Did I interrupt something?” Eero teases, mouth open wide in a box shape that resembled a smile.

“None of your business.” Philo snaps, shoving past Eero and to the apartment complex. Sure, he was mad that his and Rocket’s conversation got cut short, but he was not truly mad. How could he be and after that? Rocket had agreed, against all odds, to go on a date with him.

Philo was fairly certain he had never been on a proper date, so there was a lot of thinking to do in regards to planning it. He would get on that soon, scribble out some ideas, but for now, he was focused on getting his stuff into Eero’s place.

They took the elevator up to the second floor, a thing Philo found unnecessary but still nice, and Eero swung open his door for him. It was at the very end of a long, decorated hallway.

“I don’t want to intrude too long.” Philo tells him, getting a sense of nostalgia the second he steps into the apartment. He had spent many long nights here, crying over his mom, screaming about Sara, missing his dad, all of it. “I want to find a place by the end of the month.”

Eero’s apartment was full of character, and every décor piece screamed his name. His couch was a nice leathery green, straight from an exotic forest. To match it, he had a worn zebra-print rug that swirled in odd shapes, covered by a small wooden coffee table. There were a few accent walls of brick, all adorned with shelves filled to the brim with unnameable antiques.

Philo adored this apartment, and he knew it by heart. He knew it so well that he had noticed the changes Rachel had made. Some bad, some good, and some unnecessary; like the modern-looking, white lamps on the end tables by the couch. Not only did they not fit in, but they looked atrocious, too.

Eero’s voice, that had previously faded into the background, had caught Philo’s attention again.

“… need to stay here longer, that’s fine. I won’t kick you out again. Won’t make that mistake twice.”

Philo sighs, remembering it like yesterday; the day that Eero had had enough of him. Philo never blamed him for it. It must have been exhausting having to deal with his constant uncertainty, constant trouble.

He says nothing to Eero, just dips his head and makes way to the spare. This spare was familiar to him, too, but it had a lot less character. It was surrounded by plain beige walls and a twin with brown covers. When Philo cracks open the door this time, he notices something different.

There was, in the corner, a white crib tucked neatly against the corner.

“Eero… what?” Philo turns around, eyes wide.

Eero seems like he knows what Philo has discovered, and he nods his head once.

“Is Rachel pregnant?”

Logically, Philo knew that people wanted children. He knew that once they thought they had found “the one,” the urge to have a child with them would be strong. It was the natural progression for a lot of people. But, Philo thought it was fast, even for Eero, who he knew to think every woman was “the one.”

Philo lets out a sigh of relief when Eero answers him.

“No. She’s not.” He tells him, then adds a moment later, hands moving with excitement. “Not yet! We only started trying two weeks ago.”

Bearing his teeth in disgust, Philo groans. “Gross. I don’t want to think about that.” Then, quieter, just in case Rachel was somewhere that Philo couldn’t see, “Eero, do you really think this is a good idea? I mean, you just met Rachel this year. Isn’t that a bit too fast, even for you? And not to mention, you’re still so young.”

This line of conversation changes Eero’s mood completely. He crosses his arms, brows furrowing and mouth pushing down into a frown.

“Philo, I really don’t need to hear it from you right now. You have no right telling me what to do with my life.” And then, angrier, “Believe me, I’ve heard it all, but this is what I want.”

Philo can’t do anything but nod, and Eero ends the conversation then. He walks to his room, closing the door behind him. Philo takes it as a sign to start unpacking, to leave it alone for now, so he locks himself in the spare. He tries his best to keep his eyes off the crib, but he has little luck.

At least, until his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Rocket (5:32pm):

Tell Eero I am mad at him and his terrible timing.

To Rocket (5:33pm):

You can tell him for me. He won’t want to talk to me for a bit, I think.

Rocket (5:34pm):

What do you mean?

Something happen already?

To Rocket (5:34pm):

Yup.

Him and his girlfriend want to have a baby. I told him it was a bit too soon for that, but he won’t listen.

Rocket (5:35pm):