“All there?”
I sigh and shake it off, turning to smile my thanks at her for pulling me out of it. “Yeah. I’m good. Just hungry.”
Izzy’s house is bright and open and unbelievably clean. It’s like the homes Mom does decor for. Our house is nothing like this. She’s an only child, so the entryway is populated by a table of photos of her from infancy until graduation last year. There are also family shots on the beach here on the Cape or on vacation. And a couple posed photos of just her parents. Sera’s family has more money than us too, but I don’t think about it as much with them. They’re less intimidating than Izzy’s parents are to me, but that’s probably because I’ve known them longer. I don’t know why I’m comparing them, though.
“Shoes off so my mom doesn’t have a fit,” Izzy reminds me. She kicks her sandals off on the tiled floor and drops her bag on the bench before heading toward the basement door. I slide off my sneakers and then go to the kitchen for plates and paper towels, knowing how careful we have to be to not make a mess.
Downstairs, Izzy’s fiddling with an old gaming console under their huge wall-mounted TV. I put the food on the coffee table, along with the plates, and then collapse onto the massive L-shaped couch.
“I love this couch,” I say, eyes closed. And for a moment, even though I’m wicked hungry, I swear I could fall asleep.
“I know you do,” Izzy says, voice teasing and sexy and low. A small bubble of want creeps up in my stomach, and I relax. The thing with the kiss earlier was just a fluke. I’m not losing interest. If I did, I know where my mind would go, and it can’t go there. “Okay. I got it working,” Izzy says. “Which movie first?Close Encounters,Blade,X-Men? I also have all ofThe X-Files.”
“I voteX-Men,” I say, sitting back up and opening the food before the fries get soggy.The X-Fileswould take days.
“Nerd,” Izzy says happily, popping the movie out of its plastic case and into the machine. We eat and watch in silence for a while. When we’re done, Izzy gathers up all the trash and takes it upstairs. She comes back with a couple sodas and curls up next to me. Instinct has me wrapping my arm around her. I wonder who she cuddles with at school because I’ve never seen her watch a movie without being snuggled up.
“Who do you movie cuddle with at school?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
She brushes her pink bangs out of her face, though they’re closer to her original blond this week than they were last week. “Why? Are you jealous?”
I laugh. “No, Iz. I was just wondering.”
“You could be jealous, you know.” She swings her leg over my lap. She leans forward and presses her forehead to mine, grins. I slide my hands onto her hips, the familiarity of what comes next taking over.
“I’m not,” I say.
“Oh, a challenge. I like it.” She leans in and kisses me, and I wait for a beat to see if that little spark of heat will crawl up out of the depths of my chest and respond. But just like earlier, it’s gone. I pull back. Izzy looks at me, her brow furrowed.
“What’s with you tonight?” she asks, climbing off my lap.
“Izzy. I—I think we should stop hooking up.”
“What?” She sits up straight, her feet tucked under her so she’s at eye level with me. “But we agreed we’d have fun this summer…”
“I know. But…I don’t know, it was fun last year, and this year—honestly, I’m so tired and busy, I’d rather just watch the movie and talk about that insane CGI. Be friends and not make things…overcomplicated.”
Izzy won’t look at the screen, where Magneto is strapping Rogue into his mutation machine. “This is about Sera, isn’t it?” Her voice isn’t mad exactly, but she does sound disappointed.
“What? No.” I haven’t talked to her about Sera at all, not since two summers ago, when I spilled my guts to her at this random party the night Sera turned me down. Back then, Izzy listened and told me it was okay to be upset, but that all romance didn’t have to be so serious. I agreed. Less serious seemed better then, but now…She deserves someone whowantsto spend the days with her watchingThe X-Filesand making out.
“It is,” she insists. “I have eyes, Luke.”
“It’s not. Plus she’s hanging out with that kid from Boston.”
Izzy scoffs. “You guys are being so stupid. You’re lying to yourselves, and you’re lying to each other.”
“We’re not—we’re—”
“Just friends?” she says, smirking.
“Yes.”
“Whatever you say, Luke.” She hops off the couch. “I feel all sticky from the beach. I’m just going to shower and go to bed. You know the way out, right?”
