“I know for sure that was never the case,” I finished.
Rose glanced over her shoulder for a second, turning back to me with a smile. “I never in a million years thought you’d like David. Let alone go out with him. That’s why I couldn’t believe it when you said you two were dating. But now…”
“Now?”
“He looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever dreamed of.” Rose poked out her bottom lip. “It’s so sweet.”
“Very sweet.” I nodded and swallowed a sigh. David and I were so entangled that I didn’t know where to start. We didn’t have a proper beginning to our friendship. How would that translate into a relationship? More importantly, would that translate? He said it wasn’t hard being with me, but that didn’t exactly mean he wanted to date me for real.
“You should tell him,” Rose said in a lower voice as if our rowdy family could hear us over their buzzing conversations and the music blaring from someone’s portable speaker.
“What?” My gaze snapped back to Rose, suspicious of potential mind-reading abilities.
She gave me a knowing smile. “You should tell him you think he’s sweet. I know you. You can be so hard and standoffish when it comes to romance.”
“I’m not.” My defenses went up even though she wasn’t exactly wrong. I’d never been a heart-eyed, hand-holding girlfriend… maybe because I’d never been with the right person? Because nowadays, I want to hold David’s hand all the time.
“Tell him, Yara,” Rose said firmly. “He seems like a good guy. And if he’s the right guy, let him know. It’ll do you both some good.”
I swallowed a retort about not needing her relationship advice. This was a nice day. A good dinner with the family and a hurdle I cleared with David's help. Everyone believed he was my boyfriend. He’d played the role so well that he convinced us both, too. I would not ruin the vibe with my stubbornness. So, I smiled, nodded, and told Rose, “I will. I’ll tell him.”
22
We flew tooclose to the fake-relationship sun, earning ourselves an invitation to a double date with my parents.
“We’ll have a car pick you up next Friday,” Mom said, half distracted by typing out an email. Flooding at the high school auditorium led to the cancellation of the last town hall meeting. Dozens of people used her inbox to express their grievances.
“At Yara’s apartment. 8 p.m. sounds good?” Mom asked, walking away before either of us could answer.
“Sorry,” I said as soon as she was out of earshot. “We’ve done so well today that I could come up with an excuse to get us out of that later.”
“It’s fine,” David said simply. He sat down on the bench in the gazebo my enthused mother had trapped us in. The sun had long since set, solar yard lights lining the walkway. Sixties jazz music played from one of my cousins’ portable speakers. They were waiting for the older folks to clear out before switching it to something obnoxiously contemporary.
“Fine, as in, you’re not overwhelmed?” I joined him on thebench, keeping my distance because our audience wasn’t hungry for an encore. “Or fine as in, you don’t mind going.”
“Both.”
I studied the dark brown of his eyes, looking for any sarcasm underneath. David further raised suspicion when he added, “Your family’s not terrible to be around. I like them.”
“You’re joking?” I smiled, folding my legs to the side with my knees pointed toward him. The air smelled of fire from the pit Aimee insisted on lighting. Burnt marshmallows and melted chocolate weaved into the smoke, making it feel like a proper welcome to fall, even though we were halfway through it.
“It’s not a joke,” he promised. David picked at his nails as he watched my family argue over who would get their turn in horseshoes next and who would help clean everything before the night was over.
“Can I ask what happened earlier?” I whispered, an attempt to remain gentle and avoid triggering his guard. “When you knocked over your glass at the table?”
David’s jaw clenched. He remained quiet as he watched my brother urge my mom to dance with him. She was still on the phone, trying not to laugh at his attempts at distraction.
Instead of answering my question, David said, “Despite all of this–” He gestured to the house and my family. “—I think we’re more alike than we are different.”
He met my gaze, eyes holding a kind of seriousness that did away with my need to force gentleness. I should know by now that David didn’t need me to be lighthearted. Smoothed edges didn’t impress him.
“And that’s why I couldn’t stand you all those years,” he said.
I snorted, only a bit offended, mostly amused.
“And probably why you couldn’t stand me,” Davidcontinued.
“So how did we get here?” I was anxious about this side of us. It was so new and impossible. It was like a weird dream of your childhood celebrity being so madly in love with you that you weren’t sure you could actually handle that reality.
