For the briefest of moments, I think she’s going to actually explain it. Instead, she playfully taps my nose. “It means, I promise to lock the door next time. Even in my empty house.”
Silence once again fills the space between us, the awkwardness dissipated but not quite gone. I rack my brain for something clever to say, but all I can think about is how I’ll definitely be looking up what power bottom means. She’s acting unbothered by the entire thing, except her shoulders are taut, and it makes me wonder if she’s struggling through this conversation as much as I am. I chew the inside of my cheek and debate asking what I really want to know.
When the silence becomes too much, I decide to go for it. It’s not like this conversation can get any more awkward. “I didn’t know you and Simone were…you know.”
Alex flops backward on the bed. “We aren’t. We weren’t. It just sort of happened.”
Not knowing how sex just sort of happens, I lie beside her, our shoulders touching, and listen to the sounds of the party below.
“We aren’t dating,” she adds after a beat. “We were just…”
“Horny?” I supply. “Does she know you wear a retainer?”
Alex glares. “Shut up.”
We lie in silence until eventually, I crack a smile. “Beaver impeder?”
She turns her head to look at me. “I’m kind of fond of taco blocko.”
The awkwardness slowly starts to melt away. “You’re so gay.”
“And you’re so straight,” she easily fires back.
I shrug.
“Hey, you two kiss and make up?” Chloe asks from the doorway.
“Yup,” Alex says without moving.
The fluttering starts up in my stomach again at the mention of kissing.
Chloe lies down on my other side, and the three of us quietly stare at the ceiling. The music downstairs isn’t blaring, but it’s loud enoughthat we can hear a truly horrible song from when we were seniors. There are a few cheers and a couple of boos, and all and all, it’s just a little bit cringe. If this were a year ago, it would probably be funny. But for some reason, it all feels like a distant memory. Like we’re trying to be something we used to be but aren’t anymore.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
Chloe must be thinking the same because she groans and says, “Anyone else want to go back to my place and convince my mom to let us drink champagne at midnight while we make fun of all the weirdos hanging out at Times Square?”
“Yup,” Alex and I say at the same time. We scramble to get up and rush down the stairs, anxious to get away from the past.
Chapter Eight
Alex
It’s Wednesday night, and I’m supposed to be editing my essay for my commerce and culture class, but my attention is on the Reds game. Despite this paper being worth twenty-five percent of my grade, the game is the first series against the Pirates, and I could really use this win to cap off an otherwise mediocre week.
I attempt to focus on my work, but the crack of a ball coming off a bat steals my attention. A base hit by Pittsburgh. I groan and turn down the volume, not needing to see them bring in another run in the fifth.
My phone vibrates with a text from Mason:Date with Sarah tonight. Do I look okay?A picture follows, one of him dressed in a suit. A really nice suit, by the looks of it. It’s formfitting and crisp, and I wonder if he had Mom iron it. He’s shaved, and his hair is neatly combed back and sculpted into a perfect bun.
I crack a smile and type out a quick reply:Did Mom do your hair?
Richard actually.I laugh, but I honestly can’t tell if he’s joking.We have a reservation at a steakhouse in DC. I’m nervous.
My laughter fades, and a pang of sympathy takes its place. Mason doesn’t date much. Or at all, really. He’s never said it out loud, but I know it’s because he doesn’t want to become attached. Or worse, havethembecome attached. His health has always been a factor in his decision-making, even when he’s been given the all clear to live a relatively normal life. He’s always remained cautious. Especially with his heart.
He met Sarah a few months ago playing D&D. I knew things were getting kind of serious when I’d hear him quietly on the phone at all hours of the night. She’s studying to become a nurse, something my mother loves about her, but with Mason’s part-time job and college classes, they don’t have a lot of free time to see each other.
You look handsome, Mase. Seriously.
