She lets out a small laugh. "Oh, god. That's such a breakup cliche."
My lips twitch. "It's true though. Maybe… we should have just been friends from the beginning."
"Yeah," Kennedy says, then gives me a look. "I thought you were cute, though."
"Me too."
"You thought you were cute?"
I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean." I sigh. "Maybe we should have been friends with benefits," I joke.
"What's the difference between friends with benefits and boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asks.
"That sounds like a bad joke," I say.
"It's a genuine question." Kennedy's eyes pierce mine.
I take a moment to respond. "Feelings?"
Kennedy stares at me, and I wince. "Did that hurt your feelings?"
She shakes her head. "No. You're right. Maybe we should have just been friends."
We begin walking again, dodging pieces of seaweed on the sand. I keep glancing at Kennedy's face to make sure she's not upset, but she looks normal.
Sensing me watching her, she waves a hand at me. "Now, flatter me please, Curtis. This hurts my ego."
"What does?"
"The fact that everyone isn't in love with me," Kennedy says, casting me a look to know her tone might be serious, but she's joking.
I laugh. I'm glad she's taking this lightly. It makes me feel less guilty. It makes me feel okay for not feeling sad. Because I'm not sad. I'm feeling a little tense, and awkward, and numb… but I'm also feeling the lightness of relief.
"You're going to get the coolest boyfriend. Someone much cooler than me," I say. "Someone who understands the difference between social democrats and democratic socialists."
"Is that your definition of cool?" she asks.
"I know that's your definition of cool."
She lets out a soft laugh. "You're going to find someone who understands why we can't just print more money," she says.
I smile. Although, the thing is, my ideal person wouldn't have to understand inflation. They'd just have to let me talk about it. Or rather, I'd feel comfortable talking about it to them without worrying I was boring them, without worrying I wasn't doing the right thing. And I don't know why I felt so worried about failing Kennedy. I know she never would want me to feel that way. It was just something in my head. Something that stopped me from relaxing when I was dating her.
The beach starts to curve around, and Kennedy and I slow down to a stop. Above us, the town has been replaced with the highway.
"We should head back," I say.
Kennedy agrees and we turn around, this time the wind biting us right in the face.
"I feel like we're supposed to cry," Kennedy says, after five minutes of silence. I've been using the time to keep my head down to avoid the burn of the wind. "People cry when they break up."
"Maybe we're not crying because it was a very civil mutual breakup. Unless… are you going to cry?"
Kennedy gives me an incredulous look. "I'm not going to cry over you, Curtis."
"Good," I say.
"This whole thing still feels kind of weird, though. Like it's not real."
