“I do, yeah,” he says. He pulls his beanie off, runs his gloved hand through his hair. “I just didn’t realize you guys talked that much. It’s okay, it’s just . . . It’s a surprise, that’s all.”
I nod. Okay, I can get that. Probably I’ve been too cautious in talking about Kevin, assuming it would makeTed uncomfortable to know the details, when maybe the opposite is true.
I open my mouth to apologize for that, whenTed looks over at me again.
“He knows about me, though, right?”Ted asks. We’ve pulled into my driveway, and he puts the car in park.The Honda hums as it idles.
My stomach twists. “Um,” is all I can say.
“Are you serious, Maya?”Ted’s brow pulls together with this incredulous look. “You have this best friend you talk toevery dayand he doesn’t know you’ve had a boyfriend for weeks now?”
There’s hurt in his expression, and guilt floods through me.
And also, still defensiveness. Because I havereasonsI haven’t told Kevin about him.
“Kevin and I don’t really talk about our dating lives. He doesn’t tell me about his, either.”This is true. He knows I’ve been on dates, but he’s never pressed for any further details. He’s been going out to parties and stuff, and I don’t ask about that. Maybe it’s because of how our friendship started, but it feels weird to dig into each other’s romantic lives.
Besides, we have plenty of other stuff to talk about.
“Really,”Ted says, and I get the feeling he’s taking completely different information from that statement than I meant to convey.
This whole conversation is completely getting away from me. “It’s just . . . It’s not like that.”
Ted’s eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms. “Okay, Maya. So what’s it like, then?”
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s used my name twice in the last fifteen seconds, or the look on his face, but it’s clear this has passed into “problem” realms after all. And I don’t appreciate the implication that I’m, what? Cheating on him? With a guy I have kissed a total of once, months before I ever went on a date withTed?
“Do you want to just come out and say what you’re accusing me of?”
“I’m not accusing you of anything—”
“It sure feels like you are.” I feel my gloved hands ball into fists and force them to relax. “He’s my friend,Ted. We talk a lot, and yeah, we watch movies together, but it’s not like we’re doing anything sexual, or even romantic. We’re friends.”
Ted lets out a breath, this sharp chuffing sound. “Doesn’t it bother you that it makes me uncomfortable? Does it matter at all what I think?”
“Itdoesmatter, I just don’t see—” I swallow, shake my head.The snowflakes are hitting the window with more force than before, turning into tiny crystals ricocheting off the windshield.
“If I texted constantly with a girl and it made you uncomfortable, I wouldn’t do it.”Ted says. His cheeks are still flushed pink, but I don’t think it’s from the cold outside, not anymore.
I don’t know if he would or not, if it was his best friend. I do know I would never ask him to. “What do you want from me,Ted?” I glare at him. “You want me to give up my best friend because you don’t like that we watch movies together?”
“No, I just—” He grips the steering wheel. “No. He’s your friend, and I knew that. I just . . . It bothers me that he doesn’t even know I exist. It bothers me that he doesn’t know you have a boyfriend.” He looks back over at me. “And it bothers me that you don’t seem to care.”
That last part hits me hard.Ted’s a good guy. I like him, and I don’t want to hurt him.
I’m not about to give up my friendship with Kevin for him—not a chance—but if that isn’t what he’s asking for . . .
“I do care,” I say, letting out a long breath. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this stuff before. I didn’t think it would matter. But if it’s important to you that I tell Kevin that you’re my boyfriend, I’ll do it.”
“Yeah?” He looks over at me cautiously.
“Yeah. I’ll call him tonight. It’s not going to be a big deal, really.” And it shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t. Kevin and I don’t talk about our dating lives, but that doesn’t mean we can’t. It’ll be easy enough:I have a boyfriend, his name isTed, so what part ofThe Ringscared you the most?
Ted’s voice goes quiet, and he reaches over to give my gloved hand a squeeze with his own. “Thanks, Maya,” he says. “That’s really all I want.”
He looks relieved, the tension leaving his expression, but for me the tension seems only to be growing, tightening into a fist.
I squeeze his hand back. “Of course.”
