And me.
Damn, he cared a lot about me.
I will never forget our first date. We were nearly fifteen years old, and he took me out for ice cream. It was all he could afford. He bought us a caramel sundae to share, and we sat opposite each other in a booth. I was so nervous I wasn’t sure I could eat a bite, but Atlas started asking me questions. He got me talking, and before I knew it, we were discovering our shared love of music, denim jackets, and fried chicken. I told him all about my family and he opened up about his dad leaving and how horrible it was. His mom wouldn’t stop crying, and I couldn’t believe how deep and heavy we’d gotten on our first date.
I held his hand, and he rubbed his thumb over my knuckle. Then he looked at me across the table with his glassy eyes… and I knew I was going to love him for the rest of my life.
I’m not feeling that way about Sutton, and it’s stealing my appetite.
The chicken enchiladas I ordered arrive and smell delicious, but I’m suddenly not hungry.
All I can think about is ice cream melting down the side of the bowl, a betrayed boy who’d just lost his father, and the home he was quickly erecting in my heart.
We were pretty much inseparable after that.
He spent hours at my house—he fell in love with my family. He’d come over all the time, Tyrell often trailing after him, if he wasn’t at football practice.
We’d sit on my bed, Atlas playing his guitar and me singing along. We’d find harmonies, he’d write lyrics, and I’d imagine a future together. I wanted to see him succeed and had grand plans of becoming his agent or manager or whatever they called it. I’d find him gigs and make sure the world knew just how talented he was.
My heart starts pulsing a dull, aching beat, and I snatch up my cutlery, forcing myself to focus on my food… and whatever Sutton is saying about the stock market.
“People are idiots.” He laughs. “They have no idea how to manage money, which is why it’s so important that jobs like the one I’m going to secure exist. I’m helping humanity by looking after the funds they have. I’m going to make people rich and myself even richer.” He laughs again, and the sound is grating.
I nod and force myself to say, “Sounds like a good plan.”
“It is, right? I’ve got it all mapped out.”
I raise my eyebrows, spearing a mouthful of enchilada and adding a dollop of sour cream. “That can be dangerous.”
“What?” He looks confused as he scoops rice and beans onto his fork.
“Mapping out your life like that.” I shrug. “You never know what’s going to happen.”
“Yes, I do. I have a plan. I’m sticking to it. I’m in charge of my own destiny.”
“Yeah, but… life can sometimes throw you curveballs. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have a plan, but you seriously never know what’s gonna get you out of the blue. Sometimes you can dream and imagine your future, and the universe will have other ideas.”
He chews his Mexican chicken and rice, studying me while he finishes his mouthful. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, wondering why I wanted his number in the first place. This date does not feel right. He’s about to say something I’m not going to like.
“I think that’s bullshit. Life can try to throw me off course, but I’ll just find another way back onto it. I hate it when people use ‘the universe’ as an excuse for everything, you know? We’re our own bosses, and we have to take responsibility for our own actions. I’m not gonna just sit back and let life happen to me. I’m gonna happen to life.” He grins, and I don’t know what to say.
Part of me wants to spit out the raw, ugly truth.
Oh yeah, just you wait, buddy. One day, you think you’ve got it all figured out, and the next thing you know, you’re holding your dying boyfriend in your arms.
But this date is taking a shitty turn, and I don’t want to make it worse.
So I just nod and fill my mouth with food so I don’t have to say anything.
And Sutton just goes ahead and keeps on talking.
By the time the waiter clears our plates, I know all about his five-year plan and how brilliant his life is going to be.
“Would you like to see the dessert menu?” the waiter asks.
“No thank you,” I quickly reply before Sutton can.
He gives me a bemused look, then skims his eyes down my body. “You one of those girls who doesn’t eat sugar? My mom’s like that. Counts every calorie. It’s painful.”
