Jake stares at me for what feels like an eternity, then inclines his head the tiniest possible amount.
I watch a whole future blink out of existence. A life where Jake and I were high school sweethearts, our twenties spent partying and travelling together, me sitting in the family box at All Blacks games, him front and centre at my concerts. Laughing and exploring the world before we bought a house by the water and started a family.
Because there was a world in which Ada Renaldo went to the Pukekohe High School Ball with Jake Graves-Holland. Where the bells of first love rang out so loud, they lasted forever. But instead, there’s just the mess he made out of something that could have been so good for both of us.
But those years are gone, and they’re not coming back. I’ve spent the last decade stumbling around drunk while Jake went pro and slept with about a billion strangers, including Jenny Wallis. We had a moment in our thirties, but that’s all it’ll ever be. A cute little signpost pointing to what never was.
“Jake,” I say, in a voice that sounds like it belongs to someone else. “Who’d you end up going to the ball with?”
His face crumples, the colour fading almost as much as when Itold my milkshake story. “Stephanie Brooks.”
I laugh. I remember Stephanie Brooks. A tall, impossibly beautiful brunette. Exactly the kind of girl you imagine someone like Jake attending a ball with. I picture myself sitting alone in my parents’ kitchen, binge-eating peanut butter and writing ‘Lost Worlds’ as all my classmates danced and drank and got their photo taken.
So close and so far. The popular boy, too scared to test the limits of his power. The ugly duckling, convinced she’ll never be a pigeon, let alone a swan.
A burst of rage flicks through me and I welcome it.
“I would have askedyouto the ball, you know,” I spit. “IfI’dbeen popular and you’d been a dork with no mates, I would have askedyouto the ball.”
Jake’s eyes start to shine, tears forming in the corners. “Yeah, but you’re braver than everyone else, Ada.”
I blink, determined not to cry just because he is. “Sure.”
“You are. You put your whole heart on the line. Every time. No one else is like that. No one I know, anyway.”
I think of the imaginary conversation I had with the activewear mother playing proxy for the woman who raised me.I do care. I care about everyone.
“Thanks,” I say in a cracked voice. “I’m not being a dick. That means a lot.”
A single tear falls onto his right cheek. “I just wish…”
I wish too. But wishes aren’t real, and the waitress is hovering again, probably annoyed we’re hogging a booth that could seat six.
“I need to go,” I say. “Get back to Cece.”
“Sure.” He hesitates. “Before you go…”
“What?”
His grey eyes blaze through the tears. “I’m in love with you, Ada.”
“Fuck off.”
“I mean it. I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’ll be that way as long as I live.”
I’m crying now, too, but I’m also furious. How dare he say this to me now?
“You can’t be fucking serious?”
He laughs, wiping a scarred fist across his eyes. “Like you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t.”
“Horseshit,” he says, like he’s arguing with an assistant referee instead of declaring his eternal love for me in a stupid, too-bright cafe.
“Stop it. This is so below the belt, Jake.”
“Tough.” His grey eyes, still wet with tears, bore into mine. “I’ve been in love with you half my fuckin’ life, and now you’re here, and it’s so close, please… Can’t you just let it happen?”
