"You stayed and ate toast with him."
"He offered. I was being nice."
Mia put down the basil. She turned and leaned back against the counter with her arms folded, which was a posture Elizabeth recognised because Charlotte had used it in exactly the same way when she was about to say something she had already decided on.
"You said you were not his biggest fan," Mia said. "But you two were up at two in the morning eating toast and talking and —"
"We were not talking," Elizabeth said. "We stood at the counter and ate toast and then you came downstairs and then we all went back to bed. That is the full extent of what happened and I would strongly encourage you not to read anything into it."
"I am not reading anything into it."
"Good."
"I am just noting what I saw."
"Mia."
"Fine." She picked up a basil leaf. Put it down again. "Do you not like him? Like, genuinely?"
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. She turned down the heat on the sauce.
"I do not hate him. But then, I do not like him in that way," she said. "Not anymore."
The kitchen held the words for a second. Elizabeth heard them arrive back to her and felt, with a clarity that was not entirely welcome, that she had said the last part out loud without deciding to.
Mia heard it too. She did not say so immediately, which was worse.
"Not anymore," she said eventually. Carefully. "So, there was a time when —"
"That is not what I meant."
“It is what you said.” Mia’s eyes stayed on her. “I know you told me a few weeks back that you dated him for about a month… but you didn’t make it sound like you were in love with him.”
Elizabeth moved the sauce off the heat. She picked up the wooden spoon and put it down again. Across the kitchen, Mia waited.
"We were close," Elizabeth said finally. "A long time ago. For a short time. And then we were not." She looked at the stove. "He is stubborn. He walks around presenting this very composed, very controlled version of himself and you are supposed to just accept that as the whole picture. He never explains himself. He never —" She stopped. "He is not who I thought he was. Or maybe he is exactly who I thought he was and that is the problem. I have not decided."
Mia was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "funny you should call him stubborn."
Elizabeth turned. "I beg your pardon?"
"He picked me up from school today." Mia returned to tearing the basil again, not quite looking at her. "We were in the car and I asked him about you. Just general stuff. He said something similar, actually."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "He called me stubborn."
"Before you go for his head —"
"Who is the stubborn one here? Seriously, who —"
"He also said you were the boldest person he knows." Mia looked up. "Those were his exact words. The boldest person heknows. And that you were smart. He said —" She paused, as if deciding how much to give. "When I told him I liked reading novels, he said he hoped I could end up writing like you one day. That if I worked at it, I could be as good."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue, but closed it when no words came. None made sense.
She turned back to the stove and picked up the wooden spoon and stirred something that did not need stirring.
"He said that," she said. Flatly.
"Word for word."
