Paige puts a hand over her heart. “That is the sweetest thing.”
“Really, Ian, what you’re doing is just amazing,” Zia adds.
I work in film. And right now, I can see the camera as it lowers to make Ian look bigger in a classic underdog-to-hero shot—one Ian is milking for all it’s worth. He might as well be wearing tights and a cape.
Just as I regret asking Ian anything, Lucky arrives with trays full of our food. I’m starving, but my stomach lurches when he places a dish of russet-red liquid in front of me.
Zia leans over her food, which is the same as mine, and inhales deeply. “Mmm. Tikka masala. It looks so delicious.”
I can’t even look at Zia because all I can think about is how I’m going to have to trick my gag reflex into letting this down my throat. Plugging my nose and spooning it into my mouth like I did when I was eight might be my best option. At least it’s better than the alternative.
Paige’s foot taps me under the table, and I bring my eyes up to meet hers. As strange as it sounds, I miss her. She’s sitting right across from me, but I miss her. I already feel like Ian is driving something cold and impenetrable between us.
She takes a small bite of something fried and wrapped, something I wish I’d ordered, and places it back on her plate before looking up at me with a silent message I can’t quite decipher.
“Oh,” Paige says, sounding surprised. “This is not what I thought the samosas would taste like.”
Paige frowns then gives me a hard look before glancing at my bowl. “I should have ordered the tikka masala.” She laughs and makes eyes at me once again.
I look at my bowl, finally catching on. “Oh, do you want to switch?”
“Really? That would be great.”
We exchange our dishes, and Zia’s soft gaze tells me that she thinks I'm the one doing Paige a favor, when in reality, I’m aboutto find a bell and ring it because Paige is an angel who deserves her wings.
I bite into the flakey exterior of Paige’s food, and delicious flavor explodes inside my mouth. After just one bite, I can already picture myself coming back here for these. That’s when I get the distinct taste of fish. I take another bite just to be sure. Yup, this dish has fish in it—which I like but Paige does not. She must have heard what Zia ordered me and got the fish samosas, planning to make a switch.
Paige and I look up at the same time, and I meet her vibrant green gaze. “Thank you,” I mouth. She gives me a small smile and dips into her tikka masala, but even when she pats her lips with her napkin and converses with Ian and Zia, I have a hard time looking away.
By the time I’ve polished off half my plate of samosas, Ian is just getting started with his world-traveling stories. “But I think my favorite was Morocco,” he says.
“Morocco?” Paige’s eyes glitter, just like they do whenever someone talks about the places she wants to visit.
“Paige, you would have loved it.” Ian leans toward her, sliding an arm around the back of her chair.
I fight the urge to step around the table and nestle myself between them.Too fast, buddy.Moments ago, Ian was public-enemy number one, but now he’s leaning into her, and she’s not pushing away.
“In Fez, there is a library, the oldest one in the world. It’s got this gorgeous architecture,” Ian draws half circles in the air with his hand as if he’s sculpting the arches of the library. “But all those old books in one room, that was my favorite part.”
“Did you read anything while you were there?” Paige asks, leaning closer to him.
“Of course. You know I couldn’t resist that, Pages.”
Paige giggles, then she ducks her head and places a hand over one reddening cheek. “I forgot you called me that.”
“Pages?” I ask, feeling a bit sick inside.
Ian chuckles. “Yeah, that’s her nickname.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there,” Zia says.
Ian smiles at Paige. “Well, Paige and I created a list of books to read the summer after freshman year. I went to her house about a week into summer just to boast that I’d finished two of the books on our list already, then she pointed to a stack of six books she’d already read. Long story short, I called her Pages because she inhaled them so quickly.”
Ian and Paige share a glance before they start laughing.
I can’t find anything humorous about the story, but even Zia chuckles, so I force a smile before shoving an entire samosa into my mouth.
Zia turns to me, her bright-pink lips curving to the edges of her cheeks. “This is so perfect,” Zia whispers. “I knew they were meant to be.” She reaches over and twines her fingers with mine. “We can take credit at their wedding.” She winks at me.
