His laughter exploded, electrified sunlight. How could one person be so bright?
His joy made my insides whir like an overheated CPU. Embarrassing, really. I sipped my tea to hide a stupid grin from forming.
He raised his chin. “Ten years of experience taught me a few things. Worked my way up the chain.”
Toy demonstrations weren’t exactly educational, but surely there was more to it. Puzzles. Stocks. Sales. “So, the store was your school and a home away from home,” I said.
“Yeah. I mean, I did go to high school. Graduated with a respectable place in my class.” He scooped his eggs onto the toast, then took a triumphant bite, his breakfast gooping and crumbling everywhere. He held his hand under his chin and swiveled to the sink. “Mm, sorry.”
“I’ll get you a napkin.” I smiled, reaching beyond him. “Apparently, they didn’t teach you how to eat.”
He wiped his mouth. “Nope, but they did feed me. A lot. You should see our family Thanksgiving. So many people, so much food, you can’t even take a seat.”
“Sounds…welcoming. Much better than the two neat turkey slices with sweet potato cubes and a dollop of peas from my family. Victor brought salad from the theater, I’d get boxed pie, and we’d all disperse by 2:30. Probably to sleep.” I sighed and prodded my breakfast with a fork. “I should book tickets if I am going back home.” I doubted it, though. They wouldn’t miss us. Their email said we were welcome to join them at a colleague’s ‘tasteful dinner party.’ I’d rather order takeout with Victor andstay in watching movies again, but that wasn’t guaranteed. “I bet Kat’s family plays board games or something,” I mumbled.
“You’re still not sure what you’re doing this year, right?” He licked his lips and juggled the crumpled napkin. “Um, why don’t you stop by mine?”
“Wh… That wouldn’t be appropriate.” I wasn’t his girlfriend.
“Everyone comes by. It’s half the neighborhood,” he said.
I scratched the sweaty tingle on the back of my neck. So many people. Strangers. Men.
He grabbed the edge of the counter and rocked himself back and forth. “Ash might be there.”
“Oh.” So, it was also for mall friends. I brushed my hair behind my ear. “Maybe. I appreciate the option.”
He nodded, subdued. “Yep. It’ll be at the cross-street by the bar, actually. Big Italian flag outside. I’ll text you the address. Just gotta find my phone.” He patted down his clothes.
“Thanks. Is it a potluck style or–”
“Don’t worry about bringing anything.” He waved me off and scanned the kitchen. “Did I…set it down…aha.” He nabbed his phone from the counter.
God, were we so obvious as to leave our things out? No wonder my brother enjoyed taunting my attempts at discretion.
Sal opened up his text messages. Janice’s face lit up the upper corner of his contacts. In the photo, she was kissing his cheek. He copied the address from their thread exchange. I scanned it quickly:
Oh, god. He invited Janice? Did he want to reconnect as more than friends? Maybe he only invited me as a distraction if she bailed on him. After all, my contact information didn’t have a photograph. Not that I’d ever let him take my picture. Or send him one.
His phone pinged. Was it her again?
He sighed and stuffed it in his pocket. “I’ve got to get going. Thanks for breakfast.” He clasped my shoulder and bobbed in my vicinity. “What do we do? Kiss? Hug? Brofist?”
“Uh…” This was too sudden. I vaguely leaned into him and tilted my head up. “Kiss?”
“Perfect.” He pecked my cheek, then ran to my room. “Oh, keys; gotta get my keys.”
