Callie wraps her hands around her mug. Waits for me to elaborate.
“I wasn’t a very good boyfriend,” I admit. “I was... pretty self-absorbed. A bit messed-up. Bad company, probably.”
“You’re very honest.” She seems impressed.
“None of that bothers you?”
She turns to look at me, face open as a leaf to rain. “You don’t have to be flawless to be lovable.”
“No,” I agree. “But ideally you should have more pros than cons.”
I don’t tell her I kept the list Vicky gave me, at the end. I can still recite it, word for word.
“Did you ever dream about Vicky?”
“You mean, did I love her?”
Callie’s features seem suddenly to contract with shyness. “Yes.”
“No. I never dreamed about her.”
“So have you ever... been in love?”
Behind us, a group of students are called to their table. They rush past, an eddy of energy and optimism that evokes a strange kind of nostalgia in me. For what, I’m not exactly sure.
“Once. A long time ago.” I glance at her, clear my throat. Offer up the briefest details of my relationship with Kate. “Feel free to flee at any time,” I say, when I’m done.
“You keep saying that.”
“Hardly selling myself here.”Not that I ever thought I’d want to.
She sneaks a palm over my hand. Though her skin is warm, it makes me shiver. “Yes, you are.”
I meet her eyes. And, somewhere inside me, an anchor lifts.
33.
Callie
I’m online, eyes wide, reading a news update on the website of Eversford’s local paper.
A burst water main is causing major delays in the town center this evening. Traffic is at a standstill on Market Street and adjoining roads, with drivers reporting delays of up to an hour...
I exhale. It’s not as if I didn’t believe Joel before, but this has made it real and indisputable. It makes me want to draw him to me, hold him tight and never let go.
•••
I’m not exactly sure why, but I wanted to see the thing for myself—it felt almost miraculous—so I knocked on Joel’s door, asked if he fancied a fast-food hit. We’ve installed ourselves in the window of a burger joint on Market Street, with front-row seats overlooking the chaos.
“Am I a bad person?”
Joel swirls a chip in ketchup. “Why? Because you wanted to run down here and rubberneck?”
I grimace. “Just to be clear, I wouldn’t have if it were an accident, or—”
“Hey, it’s fine,” he says, rocking into me gently with his elbow. “I do it myself sometimes.”
“Just to check you’re not dreaming?”
