"Something That Produces Results" The Early November

Hi

Paul's POV

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked her.

"Sure," She said.

"We're out of beer," I said. "I was going to go get some." I opened the fridge.

She went under the sink and pulled out a box. I stopped looking at her. She took one tossing it to me. "Me and Elisa got bored sometimes," She smiled a little. She took one herself.

"Huh," I said. I opened mine. Taking a sip. She did the same.

We paused awkwardly. She climbed up so she was sitting on the counter. I swallowed. Opening my mouth. "The other night was-"

She nodded before I got the words out. "I know," She said. "A mistake."

"No," I said. "It wasn't that, it's just-"

"We're broken up." She said.

"Yeah," I said. "And I want to be friends with you again, and if we keep doing this it'll just be a bunch of one night stands."

She nodded. "We can be friends."

"I don't want either of us getting hurt." I said.

She paused lookign at me. "Why would we get hurt?" She asked.

I looked at her steadily. Not sure what to say. She swallowed. "I mean," She restarted. "We're older and everything. I mean this isn't high school anymore right?"

I nodded. "It's not." I said. I remembered feeling eighteen. That rush and that feeling. Just two nights ago.

"We can be friends." She said.

I nodded. "We can try."

She paused. Looking down. "Were you creeped out by my writing?" She asked.

"No," I said. "Why would I?"

She looked up. "Because it's fucked up." She said.

I paused. "I thoguht it was beautiful." I really didn't know what to say other than that. It was. I had been up all night reading. It was weird though. I always thought her writing was a little strange. But it's all metaphors. It was harder now because she wasn't around to explain it to me.

She smiled a little. "Thank you." She said.

* * *

We were just drinking and talking about her writing. "You see, the guy with the bloody hands represents the things he's done in the past," She said sipping her beer. "And how he's wlaking around with his regrets and his mistakes on his hands. And they are a apart of everythign he does because all of the things he touches get blood on them."

I nodded. "Oh," I said. "I get it."

"And when he meets that sick girl, she's the victim. The girl has been effected by someone bad who hides what they've done and don't have blood on their hands. And she gets smeared with blood too. When they shake hands. And she doesn't notice because you don't notice when things like that happen."

I nodded again. "And then when they say she's walking around covered in blood," I sipped my beer. "That only means that she's been effected by him."

"Yes," She said pointing at me. "Exactly."

"But she's not sick anymore." I said.

She swallowed looking at the ceiling thinking. "Because whatever happened to her was something bad and the guy with the bloody hands effected her in the way that took away all that bad and brought in good."

I nodded. "Oh," I said. I looked at her. "How did you think of that?"

She looked down blushing. She blushes more when she's drunk. I've never seen her blush like this before tonight. She shrugged. And looked at me. "You," She smiled a little. And I smiled back. She blinked tucking hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry," She said. "I keep doing that." She finished off another beer.

I smiled a little. "It's okay." I wasn't that drunk. I was a little buzzed. But not much. I just felt happy. I stepped closer to her. Leaning on the counter next to her. She looked at me and smiled a little. She was so beautiful. I looked at her. And felt myself moving. Leaning in towards her. I kissed her again.

She pressed her lips against mine. I moved so I was standing in front of her. My hands on either side of her on the counter. I kissed her. Her mouth tasting so sweet. But it tasted more like beer.

"Paul," She said in between kissing me. "We can't do this."

I nodded, moving away. We were so close. And she jsut looked at me. She kissed me soflty on the lips. Moving away biting down into hers. I kissed her again. Her legs sliding around my waist. I carried her into my room presing her agaisnt the door when it closed. Her mouth was so sweet. I was eighteen. Had been for the past few hours.

I wondered if I was smearing her with blood now.

Bennett's POV

I looked over nextdoor. "Mrs. Shingles home?" I asked Elisa.

She looked at the car. "Maybe."

Jonah looked. "Shit, she hates me." He said. "Remember when she threatened to strangle me with her hose?"

I laughed. "Who could forget?" I asked.

Elisa was still staring. I slid my hand around her waist. Kissing her temple. We went inside. It was feeling more like fall now.