“How old are you today, birthday boy?” The waitress had on striped suspenders covered in buttons, and her ridiculously wide smile made me second-guess every decision I’d made since the night David kissed me.
“Twenty,” I rasped.
Someone came up from behind her and set a huge bowl of ice cream on the table between Colin and me, and the waitress leaned over and made a huge show of shoving twenty candles into the scoops of ice cream. Along with half a dozen other wait staff, they counted off each candle as it went in. She then made an extravagant show of lighting them and leading the restaurant in a song.
As soon as it was over, my ears rang from the silence, and I was left at the table with Colin and that arched eyebrow of his.
“Worth it?” he asked me, pushing his sandwich to the side and picking up a spoon.
I dropped my head back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to wipe the memory of David’s mouth out of my mind.
“What’s not to love about free ice cream, Colin?” I snapped back and gave him a smile before reaching for a huge scoop of chocolate.
“You looked mortified.”
“It was embarrassing, but worth it. The moment passed.”
Colin made a thoughtful, but disagreeable sound before scraping off some strawberry ice cream for himself. I knew I was right, though. Moments weren’t anything. Nothing more than blips in time that were here and then gone, and then nothing more than a memory. My entire life was nothing but memories, and in California, I was going to make some more.
We picked at the far too large ice cream sundae in silence, but I kept my eye on him, watching the careful way he selected and scooped before bringing the spoon to his mouth. His teeth never hit the spoon, at least not in a way I could hear. The amount of attention Colin paid to detail was staggering. And for him to hold on to all of that, in spite of how lonely his life had to be? I know if I was on my own the way he was, I wouldn’t put nearly as much effort into my things as he did.
“Can I ask you something?”
Colin smirked, glancing up from the quickly melting ice cream. “You just did.”
“Something else.”
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“Is it lonely?”
He cleared his throat and shifted, setting his spoon down on the table ever so carefully.
“Is what lonely?” he asked.
“I mean…” I’d said too much. I mirrored his actions, dropping my spoon into the bowl and sliding over so my back rested against the corner of the booth. I kicked my legs straight out, crossing them at the ankles while I tried to think about how to dig myself out of the very deep hole the question had dumped me into.
“It’s…” Colin’s face contorted into the quietest whisper of a grimace.
“Never mind.” I interrupted him. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s a fair question,” he said, smile turning sad. “And yes, it’s lonely.”
“I know I’m not one to talk.” I shrugged and picked at the frayed hemline of my shirt. His eyes were on me. I could feel them working their way over my profile.
“You can if you want,” he said softly.
“It’s boring,” I muttered.
“It’s loud.” He made a soft grunt and then slid out of the booth. On his feet, Colin towered over the table, but I scooted down until I was on my feet too. He refused to let me pay for even my half of the meal, which made me annoyed, but I wasn’t going to fight about it in public with him. It was his birthday and if he wanted to buy me a meal he had no interest in even eating, then I wasn’t going to stop him.
Back in his car, he backed out of the parking spot without bothering to ask me where to go next. I unrolled the window and let my hand dance over the breeze while Colin navigated us through the city, back to streets that had already started to look familiar to me. He drove back to my condo, but instead of coming to stop in front of it, he pulled into the parking lot a couple blocks away.
“Did you want to talk?”
The sound of his voice after so much silence startled me. I slid my hands under my thighs, raising one at a time to make room for them. The mood in the car on the drive after dinner was so polarizingly different from the lighthearted vibe when he’d picked me up. It was his damn birthday and I didn’t want to ruin it with my own drama.
Staring out the windshield, I asked, “Are you going to tell my brother?”
