“This place is going off,” I say, choosing a bench for us. “Is it always like this?”
He nods, divvying up our food. “Worth it though. Best slice between here and the city.”
I make a face likewe’ll see about that,but as soon as I bite into mine, my eyes close and anmmmmescapes from someplace deep.
Ro pumps the air, victorious. “What’d I say?”
I elbow him. “Or maybe I’m just drunk and hungry.” It’s not easy to play coy about a meal you’re actively inhaling, but I manage.
Ro shakes his head. “I’m still mad you went to an Italian joint and got salad. Would’ve had you pegged for the chicken parm.”
“My salad was delicious, thank you very much,” I say, yanking the cheese from my teeth to cut it. “But I do get down with some chicken parm. I just ordered whatever sounded quick.”
“Damn,” he says, “you knew the night was over before you even ordered?”
“Well, I’m pretty surehisnight kept going,” I admit. “Just not with me.”
Ro chokes on a mushroom. And I am vindicated.
“No fucking way,” he says, in equal parts shock, horror, and excitement. An entirely appropriate response from start to finish.
I nod, sipping my water through a satisfied smile. “I can now officially checkwatching my date set up another dateoff my bingo card. I shouldn’t even be surprised. Guys are always finding new and inventive ways to fail.”
“That’s what you think?”
“It’s what Iknow.A fact, proven time after time, by every guy in the history of the world.”
“Noteveryguy?”
“Every single one.”
Ro leans back on the bench before abandoning his slice in the empty space beside him. He crosses his arms in front of his chest but continues speaking before I can ask about his plans for that half-eaten slice. “There had to be one who didn’t fuck up like that. Somebody who at least made it through dinner.”
My eyebrow raises suggestively. “I mean, I did my thing a little at school.”
Ro untucks his hand from his bicep, holding it up to stop me. “Nah, nah, nah, nah. I don’t need to hear about all that.”
“Well, if none of those guys count…” I’m not dying to confess my more casual exploits to Ro, but I don’t hate making him squirm. And squirm he does.
When I’ve had my fun, I start again. “There was one guy. I thought I was gonna marry him.” Ro looks intrigued, until I continue. “But I don’t know if that counts since half the student section thought Asher Hall was their boyfriend.”
“Asher,” Ro repeats. “Well, if that’s not a white guy…”
My barking laugh comes out in a rush. “Actually, he was mixed. And fine as hell. He was the captain of our high school football team, so my friend Liv and I used to go watch him play every Friday night. Never missed a game.” I smile at the memory. It feels, somehow, like a lifetime ago and just yesterday, all at once. “We were down so bad. Thought he was scoring touchdowns just for us. Out there every week, waiting for him to scale the bleachers to profess his love. In hindsight I realize I probably should’ve started our great love affair by introducing myself.”
Ro cringes and I close my eyes, nodding at the ancient missed connection. But my smile fades in anticipation of the part that comes next.
“I never worked up the nerve. And this was all right around the time my dad left—on a Thursday. Which I only know because I remember I’d been crying for a full twenty-four hours by the time Liv came over. I think she figured going to the game would help. That had always been the highlight of our weeks. But have you ever tried to paint a#28over teenage girl tears?”
At some point during my story, Ro righted his body. He’s leaning forward now, elbows digging into each parted thigh, at full attention. Like he doesn’t want to miss a word.
“She managed to get me to the game though. And she was right—everything was exactly the same as always. Asher was still playing his ass off and the girls in the stands were still losing theirminds. It should’ve been comforting. Seeing that not everything had changed. But it felt like another betrayal.”
The familiar hollowing of my stomach transports me back to that night in the bleachers. Emptiness returning with the memory, even after all this time.
“I was pissed nobody else’s world had been destroyed. So even though itlookedthe same, itfeltcompletely different. Standing there, like I was in a performance of a moment instead of actually living it. Everything was in 2D: the set, the characters. There was the hometown hero, who was always gonna go home with whichever cheerleader forgot her bloomers that week. The girls in the stands, playing their supporting role of the adoring fans. And I knew that was supposed to be my role too. It always had been, but I didn’t want to play it anymore. I didn’t want to be a part of this thing that suddenly felt like a lie, like everything else in my life—my dad, my family, my whole world. It had all been a lie. I couldn’t be part of another one. So I walked home alone and that was that. The fairy tale was over.”
Ro’s face reflects the weight of all the words I hadn’t meant to say, and I’m desperate to unsay them. To move past them, at least.
