His eyes met hers, as steady as ever but somehow different at the same time.
She couldn’t pinpoint what the difference was, however.
And before she could fully grasp it, he looked away.“That’s probably true. Though, at least this way, I can pretend it isn’t happening. That it never needs to happen. That I’m just your friend, and we’re just having some fun here. Nothing more.”
“We can be those things, too. It doesn’t have to be either/or.”
“It doesn’t?”
“I promise. Friend who I’m grateful to,” she said, but as soon as she did she knew she’d said the wrong thing. The wordfriendwas too close. It was too intimate—even though she’d only used it in lieu of the name she still didn’t know. He had never shared it, and she hadn’t ever wanted to press, and now this was where they were:
Him balking at a word she hadn’t meant to use.
More than balking, really. He stepped back, as if what she’d said had slapped him.
Then sure enough: “Okay well, I think we should probably wrap it up for today.”
“Yeah, totally. Think my arm’s about to fall off.”
“We can pick this up again, next time.”
“Absolutely. That sounds great to me,” she said.
And she meant it, too. If he needed space now, that was cool with her. She didn’t mind if he wanted that separation between them—her on one side and him on the other and nothing like friendship in between. In fact, it was probably for the best, she told herself, as she followed him outside. As she watched him walk into the darkness of the crumbling parking lot behind the place, with those hands in his pockets.
Then he turned suddenly. He called to her, across the acres of space now between them. “It’s Isaac, by the way. Isaac Morales.”
And though she didn’t mean to feel a burst of sheerest happiness to hear him say those words, she knew it happened anyway.
Chapter Five
It was strange, not telling Letty the truth. Like all the stuff she had done the night before was some kind of dirty secret. She had a lover she was ashamed of, only instead of sex it was self-defense training, and instead of shame it was the dawning realization that she’d sat down in the lecture hall without carefully choosing her seat. In fact, dawning realization wasn’t even the term for it.
She plonked herself down and was busy picking a pen to use when she noticed Letty hadn’t sat down too. That actually, Letty was just standing on the steps that split the hall, staring at her curiously. “You really want to sit here?”her friend asked, at which point, it hit Lydia full in the face.
Her back was not to the wall. Therewere three whole rows behind her.
And yet, she hadn’t paid attention to that at all.
She still wasn’t paying attention to itnow, even though that guy with the patchy moustache was back there. The one who lived in the apartment above hers. Usually, she avoided the elevator because, too often, he was in it, and he always looked at her funny.
But right now?
Nothing. Not one damned thing.
“Yeah, here is fine,” she said, and oh, the look on Letty’s face. It was better than the one she’d had after Lydia had learned the handshake lesson. It was bright and brilliant and so beautiful, all Lydia wanted to do was say what had happened. She wanted to describe his face, when she’d gotten him to his knees. To tell her about that bubbling joy.
But then Letty whispered, “Man, those meetings must beamazing.”
And all that came out was,“They really are.”
“To be honest, I kind of want to marry them right now.”
“You kind of want to marry a group therapy session?”
“Well, unless you get around to marrying them first.”
“I’m not going to marry anything. It’s not like that.”
