Her sigh clouds in the air between us. “Apparently, all I need is a fake boyfriend for Marisol Bay. It’s a weeklong vacation at the beach house my mom inherited in Florida. But really, Brandon. You don’t have to do this.”
I draw closer, her timid expression the flame and I the moth. “Do you want me to do this? Are youaskingme to do this?”
Her eyes search mine, almost black in the darkness. After what feels like years, she gives a tiny nod.
“I guess I kind of am.”
My heart and mind have taken up war. The warmth racing through my chest tells me that I’ve won. Kate will be mine again.
Mine.
But…it would be fake. What happens after? Does she discard me like she did last time? I know I’m pathetic and desperate to even entertain this idea, but I can’t bring myself to turn her down. But I can’t say yes yet, either.
I sigh. “Give me a bit to think about this.”
“Sounds good, Brandon. You have my number.” Another long strand of hair falls across her face as she looks down at her pointy boots. “But thank you all the same. For tonight.”
I shove my hands into my pockets to keep from holding her again.
“What exactly happened with Tanner, anyway?” I ask.
“I…” She bites her lip. “I wanted things to be different with him.Iwanted to be different, but I couldn’t make it work.”
I nod, although I’m not quite sure of the context of it all. Does it matter? She’s available, seeming more like the old Kate than ever, and wants a relationship withme.
A fake one.
Kate toes the concrete with her boot. “Would you mind walking me to the subway?”
“Of course not, Kate.”
We begin to walk. The parade music grows fainter, red lanterns grow smaller, and everything I’ve wanted for the past six years occasionally brushes my arm.
So why can’t I say yes?
thirty-one
PRESENT DAY
BRANDON
Ipush through the screen door on Mom’s one-story rambler holding two six-packs of soda. I toe off my leather boots, happy it’s Friday. Working beside Kate today after the parade last night was awkward, to say the least. Even though I’d give anything to show up for Kate, something inside of me is stonewalling me from saying yes. And if I’m reading her right, she regrets all of it.
Did she realize it’s a bad idea and would rather go alone?
Or is it because she still doesn’t wantme?
I take a deep breath. The scent of oregano and pizza dough fills the entire home. I like this house. It’s a bit bigger than the townhome I grew up in, but it’s still in the same neighborhood. As if Mom could ever move too far away from the Sandersons. And Julia’s parents live nearby too.
“Mom?” I call.
“We’re in here, hon.” Mom’s voice floats down the narrow hallway from the kitchen.
I turn the corner and find Julia perched on the countertop, flinging pepperoni at Tuck’s open mouth. He dives for a particularly left-field toss, catching it and throwing his arms up.
Mom’s petite frame leans against the counter beside Julia and two uncooked pizzas full of pepperoni. She straightens, green eyes shiningas they land on me. Mom’s wearing a baggy mauve hoodie with her realty logo stamped across it, and her wavy black hair is pulled back into a ponytail. If it weren’t for her deeply-creased laugh lines and scattered gray hairs, she could easily pass as someone our age.
“Honey! Glad you made it.” She throws her arms around my waist, and I sag with relief. Doesn’t matter how old I get, Mom’s hugs are better than medicine.
