With a Little Bit of Luck | Alkim
Alan crossed his arms over his chest, leaping out of the way as Kim jumped out of bed. He found a safe spot against the wall and leaned there, his laughter threatening to spill as Kim blindly prepared for the beach trip he’d mentioned.
When she realized his charade, his laughter spilled over. He doubled over, his hands resting on his thighs as he howled before, finally, containing himself enough to stand upright. “You should have seen your face, Kiki. Who knew the beach had such an affect on you.”
With a smug smile he leaned against the wall once more, watching as Kim struggled to orient herself. When she grabbed her alarm clock, accusing Alan of causing the scene before them, he just strugged. “Wasn’t me. See that little red light? The alarm’s still on. Maybe someone needs a lesson in the difference between AM and PM.”
He cocked his head to the side, suddenly remembering something. “You got in late last night,” he said casually. As usual, he’d still been up. Though, this time, he’d been preparing for tonight’s party. He tucked away his unfinished paintings, preparing to make his one final piece the main attraction. He’d also cleaned his studio for what was probably the first time since he’d moved in. Alan never cleaned his studio. It always resembled the aftermath of a hurricane and while others would carefully step over bits of canvas and discarded brushes who were far too splayed to be of any use, Alan always knew right where to find exactly what he needed.
But because Kim had decided to host the party at their home, that meant Alan’s studio would be on display as well as his painting. There was something about the space where an artist created that almost seemed to be of more interest than the piece itself. Knowing this, Alan had cleaned his studio, hoping his guests (and possible buyers) would believe his brain a little less cluttered than was accurate. Or, at least, that he actually owned a broom and bottle of Clorox.
Pulling himself from these thoughts, Alan smiled as Kim finally questioned his motives in waking her. In truth, if he hadn’t had a good reason, he probably would’ve left her sleep for the entire day. After all, she’d been working so hard lately, she needed the rest. But he wanted to show her his painting.
A private showing. Before it had an audience.
She’d said she wanted to wait and see it at the party but Alan figured the day of the party was almost the same thing. Besides, he wanted her unguarded opinion while they were alone and she wasn’t faced with other distractions. Or maybe he wanted to see if she’d see herself.
Pushing himself off the wall, Alan reached for Kim’s hand and began to lead her to the door. “Ah, this is true. You need your rest. But I do, indeed, having exciting news. If you will come with me….” He trailed off as he pulled her out of her room and down the stairs to his studio.
Honestly, she should have known better, and Kim recognized this. Alan knew how much she loved her beach days. They’d gone so often as kids--sometimes even skipping school on the best days to go out and play along the shoreline. He’d been a terror of course, always splashing around her or tossing her into an upcoming wave-- but she’d always give as well as she got, burying him in sand as he napped or weaving him a crown of seaweed and naming him “Seaweed King.” There were some days in her office that Kim still could barely resist the siren call of the crashing waves. For hours upon hours she’d be plagued with daydreams of packing her stuff and grabbing Alan from his little artist’s dungeon to run out in the sun.
So of course it’d be the first thing Alan’d use against her in order to rouse Kim from her slumber.
“Hah hah, Alan. I’m sure my face was priceless. Using my precious beach time against me, how dare you!” She teased back, sticking her tongue out at the boy as she pulled out a pair of shorts and a blouse to toss onto her bed for later. “Beach days are sacred for how little I get them now. Need I remind you--we’re not kids anymore. I can’t just play hooky whenever I want and drag you out to the shoreline.” Kim paused for a second in searching for shoes as if thinking to herself before continuing: “No, I do. I do need to remind you that we’re not kids anymore. Or at least I’m not supposed to be, I think you somehow managed to side-step that. Tell me, what IS your secret?” The girl laughed gently, obviously just teasing as she pulled out a pair of sandals and tossed them onto her bed as well.
When he mentioned that the alarm was still set, Kim cursed under her breath once more, going over and turning the alarm off pre-emptively. Certainly would be a mood killer if she decided to bring Chase up here later tonight during the party and it started blaring at them in the middle of… well… whatever they were doing.
You got in late last night…
Kim felt a bright red flush creep over her face, subconsciously tugging at the hem of Chase’s shirt once more and brushing a hand over her hair. “Oh, uh… yeah… Um, I was… I was out with someone—some people and I must have forgotten what time it was.” She grinned sheepishly at Alan and cleared her throat before going back to her vanity and shifting through her jewelry, looking for something to go with her dress for tonight. Not that she really needed to do as much right at that moment, but there was something in the way Alan had phrased that statement—how he’d looked at her with some weird mix of anger and sadness and judgment and trying a bit too hard to be casual that made Kim feel like perhaps she shouldn’t mention that she had been out with Chase.
All night.
Only part of which was at his gig.
Most of which had been in the back of her car.
Or sneaking into the house he shared with Colin and Bobby…
But that was all totally irrelevant to the current conversation, right? Absolutely totally not something that Alan, her best friend in the entire world and housemate and pretty much right-hand-man really needed to know about… At least at that second.
She didn’t quite know why she was hesitant to tell Alan about her getting back together with Chase. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her parade of boyfriends and flings and one-night stands over the years. He knew she wasn’t one to keep a boyfriend for long. And yeah, maybe he’d voiced concerns once or twice kind of quietly about it, framing it in terms of wanting to make sure Kim was happy and that she wasn’t doing this to cover up some kind of hurt that she didn’t want to talk about with anyone. But he’d always backed off and let her be once she assured him that she was fine—that she was happy where she was now and that if anything changed she’d let him know.
But something told Kim that he wouldn’t like it at all this time. She didn’t know why or how she knew this, but… She knew this wasn’t really the right moment to drop some knowledge on Alan. Maybe she’d just never tell him. Kind of side-step the issue into eternity. That was totally healthy and the best idea ever. Totally the best idea ever.
The girl looked up, though, pulled from her racing thoughts to look at Alan with a raised eyebrow. “You actually have something to show me?” She asked, letting him take her by the hand and lead her out of her room. In fact, her hand slipped rather easily into his own, fingers wrapping around his as she held on lightly but with a firmness that spoke of familiarity. “I had kind of bene joking a little bit. Did you actually finish cleaning your entire studio? Is it spotless? I will be floored if you managed to make some semblance of order to that place. It’s great for you, but I swear to God I’m pretty sure I’ve lost five years of my life trying to make sense of the place.” Kim fell quickly into step next to Alan as another gentle grin settled upon her lips. “I can keep asking questions about you fabulous surprise, if you’d like. I’m almost tempted to ask if you’ve got some secret portrait of me squirreled away in there that you’re about to present to me with a dramatic flair as a pre-emptive thank you gift for throwing you THE most amazing art reception/Alan-Is-A-Real-Artist-Now party ever.”
