We walk to the back of my car. I unlatch the trunk door, push up the top window, revealing a palette of pillows and blankets already stacked in the back.
I vacuumed earlier. Made sure any hints of my gear were removed, which is a feat in itself. Found every spare blanket in the house—and Jordan’s dorm room—washed them, and lined my car for us to lie on.
The side of our house has a large white sheet stuck to it. A small projector is set up at the perfect distance, plugged into my laptop with an HDMI cable. Two movies are queued up for the evening.
Sutton climbs in first. I climb in after her.
She sits cross-legged, leaning back.
“How did you know that I wanted to go to the drive-in?” she asks me. I hand her a sparkling water.
“Or do you want wine?”
“No, this works.” The can cracks open, but Sutton’s attention doesn’t leave me. “Are you ignoring my question?”
I shake my head no, putting the pizza between us and scooting back next to her. I lean back on my elbow to face Sutton. My legs are straight out in front of me, and I toe off my shoes, kicking them to the yard below.
I hang on to every word you say. There’s a special place in my brain that records it, and I can hit play whenever I need to.That’s what I could say, but I don’t.
“You’ve mentioned it a couple times, and?—”
“And you remember.”
“There’s not much about you that I don’t.”
“Hmmm.” She scrunches her mouth to one side. “What was the name of the stuffed animal that I lost in Disney World?”
“Mr. Bunny, but he wasn’t a bunny. He was a white unicorn with purple hair and a pink metallic horn that fell out in theWinnie-the-Pooh ride. We rode it five more times trying to find it.”
“Where’s the scar I got when Meave pushed me off my bike?”
“Under your chin.” I tap the small scar. “The buckle of your helmet clipped your skin.”
“Favorite color…”
“Give me an age, because you change it every year, because you never want one color to feel left out. Seven, sky blue. Twelve, lemon-lime green. Fourteen, that disastrous shade of orange.”
“It clashed so badly with my hair.”
I laugh with her, but continue getting into the years she probably thought I didn’t pay attention. “Eighteen, that was your black clothing era. Last year, yellow. Right now, purple.”
“And your favorite color has always been red.”
“Red,” I say at the same time.
We scoot closer together, careful of the pizza going cold at our feet.
She runs a hand along my jawline demurely, almost as if she’s studying me. “I never forgot or stopped caring about you. Not that you exactly let me.” Sutton levels me with a look. “What are we watching?”
I wiggle my way out of the back of the car. Extremely uncoordinated, and I hear her laughing at me. I tap the space bar on my computer, the intro toHow To Lose A Guy in 1o Daysstarts.
When I climb back into the trunk, Sutton’s pulling the pizza into her lap.
We each take a slice and tap it together in a cheers motion. Sutton brings the point of her slice to her lips and slowly parts them to take a bite.
Three-quarters of the movie later, Sutton turns to face me.
“Cooper.”
