“It’s okay, man, I’m allowed to say it.That’s how slurs work.”Diego peeked from the trunk, finally looking me in the eye.
“I know,” I said.“Guess I just heard it too much growing up.Still bothers me.”
He looked me up and down.Seemed to be thinking about something.Then held out his hand for the cigarette.“It’s gonna go out.”
I handed it off gratefully.
He sucked it back to life and blew smoke away from me.“So you were engaged to a girl?”
“Yeah.Literally for a week.”
“How long’d you date?”
“About three years.”
“Why’d you break up?”
“She fucked a minor-league hockey player who only has about three of his original teeth left,” I said flatly.
He looked up sharply, as if to see if I was joking.Then burst out laughing.It was also his first full-on smile of the evening, showing the adorable little gap between his two front teeth.
I was glad he hadn’t changed that.Not that he’d care what I thought, but I’d always thought that smile was even hotter than the startlingly pretty eyes.
“Shut the fuck up!”he said.
I held up one hand.“Swear to god.Six months ago.”
He laughed even harder, turning so he could half-sit in the trunk.“Big handsome high school quarterback got cucked!”
“Laugh it up.”But I was smiling, too.Partly because I was at the point where I was more relieved than anything about the breakup.Partly because Diego hadn’t changed—he was still a mouthy shit and it was still funny.I hadn’t appreciated how goddamn tough he was, back then.But now I could see it in the upward tilt of his chin, like he was expecting a fight, and the way his eyes darted to mine, then away again.
“Oh!”He wrapped his free arm around his own middle as if it hurt from laughing.“Sorry, but that’sdelightful.”
“What about you?”I settled in beside him, ass against the bumper.“What are you doing these days?”
He took a deep drag.“Do you really want to know any of that boring shit?”He blew the smoke out.
“Yeah,” I said with a shrug.“That’s why I asked.”
He glanced at me.Away.And then rolled his eyes, though his smile still hadn’t quite faded.“You haven’t changed.”
“I was just thinking you hadn’t, either.”
“I live in a studio apartment in Pittsburgh with my cat, who I have to fight for the space heater in winter because she’s a bitch princess.”He looked straight through the car in front of us as he spoke.“I’m a struggling actor aka bartender at a South Side dive bar.”
“You said you didn’t use your degree.”
“Well, I’m currently not, except to flirt with the customers to get better tips.”The smile wasn’t touching his eyes anymore.
“That’s not acting.”For me, it would’ve been.But not for the Diego I used to know.
“You should see some of these customers, honey.It’s serious acting.”He chuckled and took another drag.
“Why’d you come back?”I asked.
“From… New York?Shit, that was ages ago.I made it two months there.”Another little sigh, this one more sincere, and it sent his bangs flying.His hair was shorter and lighter than it used to be, in that fashionable llama style, short on the sides and curly on top.It was naturally inky-black, but he’d bleached the shit out of it and dyed it every color in the rainbow in school.Now it was a faded auburn at the ends but dark at the roots.
I had an urge to touch it.I used to love to wrap my fingers in his curls while he was in my lap.Soft and smooth as silk.I used to tell myself it was like a girl’s.
