The laugh slips out before I can stop it, too sharp to be funny. “Serious enough that I barely saw you. You disappeared.”
He stiffens.
I tap my chin, pretending to think, even though I know exactly how long. I’ve counted. “Let’s see. I haven’t seen you in…two months?” I tilt my head. “That’s the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other since we were five.” I force a smile. “I wasn’t even sure if you were going to show up tonight.”
Beck’s head snaps up. His jaw tightens, the way it always does when he’s bracing for a fight he doesn’t want to have. “I was busy.”
“With her,” I say.
The words land between us. Not loud. Not angry. Just true. And I don’t know why it bothers me so much. Beck’s had girlfriends. He’s dated, maybe not as much as me, but enough. It’s just that he’s never seemed serious about anyone before.
He exhales. “You were busy too.”
“With Brandon,” I say, defensive before he finishes.
He nods once. “With Brandon.”
I study his face, searching for something—anger, resentment, relief. He gives me nothing. Beck’s always been good at hiding his emotions. I think he learned it young, back when his dad was still around.
“You hated Brandon,” I say.
“I didn’t hate him.”
I arch a brow. “You absolutely hated him.”
He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is even. Too even. “I didn’t like watching you plan a life with a guy who doesn’t show up for you.”
Something tightens in my chest. Because he’s not wrong. And because I didn’t see it until it was over.
“Well,” I say after a long beat, forcing a smile, “joke’s on both of us.”
“Looks that way,” he says.
I tilt my head, aiming for teasing, not vulnerable. “So…do you want a one-night stand too?” I gesture vaguely toward the bar. “Plenty of options.”
Finally, Beck looks at me.Reallylooks at me.
“No, Gracie,” he says quietly. “That’s not what I want.”
Slow Motion
Gracie
Age 11
The courtyard at our school is always dirty. Candy wrappers glued to the pavement. Trash cans that overflow no matter how many times they get emptied.
For a while, we had a new science teacher. Fresh out of college. Still smiling like effort meant something. She tried organizingSchool-Wide CleanupsandWash-the-Walls Wednesdays, like she’d discovered a secret solution no one else had thought of.
Beck and I volunteered every time. We scrubbed desks. Picked up trash. Tried.
Two days later, the courtyard looked exactly thesame.
Eventually, the teacher gave up. Transferred to a different school. A better one.
Sometimes I wish she’d taken me with her. Somewhere the computers didn’t flicker when you turned them on. Somewhere the tech lab wasn’t just a sad box of grimy Legos. A place where fixing things actually stuck and where a girl like me didn’t have to bargain with her mom or do extra chores just to buy the science and math books she loved.
I’m reading one of those books now,Physics for Kids, tucked inside my binder so my friends won’t notice.
