Brody pulls his gaze away, grins at the crowd, and gives a quick shrug. “You should give it a try.”
Maya cuts in, waving a hand, and the audience dies down for the next question.
“Fourth question!” Maya says, and there’s something mischievous in her smile now. “Gentlemen, what was your girlfriend wearing the first time you met?”
My stomach drops.
Barcelona was six-ish months ago. There’s no way he?—
I can barely remember what I wore yesterday, let alone six months ago.
I’m frantically trying to recall. It was hot. Summer. I was wearing…a dress? Shorts? Did I have a sundress?
I write:Sundress (yellow?)
The question mark is doing a lot of work there.
Brody’s already done. Not even a pause.
“Reveal!”
Mine: Sundress (yellow?)
His: Blue sundress with white polka dots. Brown sandals.
The room absolutelyerupts.
I’m staring at his board. My heart is racing. I think I can hear those little sirens again.
He remembered the polka dots.
“Oh my word,” Maya squeals. “That’s SO romantic!”
Meanwhile, this might be the only question Lauren and Brad got right, having both writtenwhite puffer jacket.
Brody smiles at the crowd, hamming it up, but there’s something in his face—soft, maybe a little embarrassed that he revealed just how much attention he was paying that day.
Oh, Brody.
“Final question,” Maya announces. “This one’s worth double points. And it’s forbothof you—you each write your answer. Where did you two have your first kiss?”
My stomach drops.
Straight to the floor.
Through the floor.
All the way to the earth’s core.
Because I know the answer. Therealanswer.
In Barcelona.
Beneath the orange trees off Plaça Reial. After we danced under twinkling lights. After he looked at me like I was the only person in the entire world. After everything felt real and honest and like maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t a mistake.
But that kiss isn’t part of our official story.
I glance at Brody.
