3
Andy
“It’s not exactlythat I told them you were my boyfriend,” Kit said as he passed me a bribe in the form of a cup of coffee and a donut in the middle of a crowded coffee shop.
He knew me too well. But also, I knew he’d refused to talk about it until we were here because he was scared I’d be mad at him.
“Aside from when I just heard you telling your mom that I was your boyfriend?” I asked as someone bumped into my chair.
Warm coffee shops on cold days were always crowded here.
“Yes, well,” Kit tapped nervously on the side of his own coffee cup. “She backed me into a corner.”
“What exactlydidyou tell them?” I asked.
I wasn’t actually upset. A little surprised, but not upset.
“I talk about you, obviously,” Kit said, chewing on his lip. “We spend an awful lot of time together. Eventually my father came to the conclusion that you were my boyfriend, and it seemed like a lot of work to correct the assumption, and I just... sort’ve... went with it.”
“This is the most British thing I’ve ever heard,” I said, taking a bite out of the donut and sitting back. “You’re too polite for your own good.”
“It’s not politeness so much as abject terror of being shouted at,” Kit said.
“Which is why you apologized to that lamppost you ran into the other day.”
“I wouldn’t have liked it to think I’d done it deliberately,” Kit said, the tiniest smile flitting over his lips.
Hewasfunny, whatever anyone else said. Just took a little while to get used to his sense of humor.
I paused to sip my coffee while Mariah Carey told us what she did and didn’t want for Christmas over the too-loud speakers behind the counter.
“So what’re you gonna tell them now? Your parents, I mean. About me?”
Kit sighed, sitting back in his chair. He looked up at the ceiling, noticed he was leaning back within range of the mistletoe hung over his head, and pulled the chair in to sit up straight again.
He would’ve hated a stranger kissing him.
“Perhaps that you died in some kind of tragic accident?”
“Oh no, no way. It’s bad luck if people say you’re dead,” I said, remembering something my mom had told me a dozen times when I was growing up.
“Well, perhaps that you broke up with me, then. They’d believe that, I think they barely believe I could find anyone who’d want to be with me in the first place.”
I took another bite of my donut and tried not to think about the slump of his shoulders.
The urge to do something really stupid was welling up in my heart, and seeing Kit upset wasn’t helping at all.
“You’re not allowed to talk about yourself like that,” I said, licking powdered sugar off my fingers. “Lots of people would love to be with you.”
“Oh yes? Who?” Kit asked.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not gonna dignify that with a response, people check you out all the time.”
Kit snorted and retreated behind his coffee. I hated when he did that. I hated that he couldn’t see how incredible he was, how sweet and kind.
Okay, he was a little shy and awkward, but all that meant was that he needed someone with the patience to look past it. Hedeservedsomeone patient, someone who’d take the time to really get to know him and find out how amazing he was.
… yeah, okay, that lingering crush wasdefinitelyall the way over on the intense end of the scale.
