The Love Hack

Ben

Arty had an impeccable talent for always seeming to drag himself out of bed when the smell of caffeine would waft its way towards his room. So, I'd learned that if I could put off my morning coffee, I could have an undisturbed morning to myself.

I valued the time to myself, even if it was just doing the word search in the morning paper. Between Jonah and now Arty, it was a rarity. I felt selfish even admitting that, considering my firefighting schedule meant that my time in the house was already limited as it was.

The living arrangement was meant to be a favour to Arty, who felt suffocated by the idea of moving back into his parents house after years of freedom at university, but in the end it benefitted me as well. I remembered what being a teenager was like, and I didn't have the added bonus of being a teenager with a dead Dad like Jonah did. My 24-hour long shifts gave Jonah ample time to get into trouble, but I had Arty around to keep an eye on him.

I skimmed through the paper, the puzzles an excuse to keep my mind occupied, though despite my best efforts, my thoughts kept wandering back to Arty and Leo's date. Everything Arty had told me last night seemed downright mediocre, though the look on his face as he said it was lovestruck.

I'd be lying if I didn't feel my heart clench with jealousy and bitterness. What was it about this guy, Leo, that all he had to do was simply offer Arty a smile, and Arty would spend hours thinking about what it meant. Meanwhile, I'd been there for Arty for years, and he only would ever see me as a friend.

I'd met Arty at a bar, and he'd recounted the whole date to me. I could still picture the scene. Arty leaning forward with that hopeful glint in his eye, picking over every small detail of the evening. The way Leo had laughed at his joke, the way his hand had brushed Arty's when they reached for the check.

I knew it wasn't right, I knew I should just be happy for him that he was happy, but last night I'd found myself hiding my reactions behind the glass of my beer. Listening to him talk about Leo felt like rubbing sandpaper against my own skin.

When I began to feel a slow ache forming just behind my eyes, I finally caved and threw on the drip coffee machine. I finished the word search and moved onto the sudoku puzzle. The coffee maker sputtered out just as I filled in the last number.

Predictably, and as if on cue, Arty's door creaked open from down the hall and I began to hear the familiar stomp of his feet making their way down the hall.

"Morning," he mumbled, half-asleep, parking himself in front of the coffee maker. Arty looked over to where I was sitting on the couch, taking note of my lack of coffee cup, and filling two cups up with coffee. He poured milk into both, and sprinkled cinnamon on the top of mine.

"You shouldn't have done the dishes last night, I said I was going to do them," Arty commented as he passed the full cup to me.

"The dishes? You didn't even turn off your bedroom light before you passed out," I said with a laugh, and Arty's cheeks flushed red.

Arty groaned, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it. "I was tired," he muttered, looking down at his coffee in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

"I suppose that's the Leo effect," I commented, trying to keep my tone lighthearted even though the thought of it made my fingers sweat against the newspaper. Arty rolled his eyes, but didn't deny it.

Arty settled further into the couch, his shoulder brushed mine as he blew on his coffee. "At least let me have my coffee first," he whined.

"There are pancakes keeping warm in the oven too," I added.