I let a moment slide by as I study the floor.
“He was telling me he knows you in ways I don’t. He was being a dick about it. I left.”
Her face moves. Not much. Enough. “Like what?”
“Linwood, I’m not gonna do that to you.”
“Do what?”
“Tell you what he said.” I look at her. “Unless… unless you’re trying to get him back.”
“No,” she mutters quickly. “I’m definitely not.”
“He said things to feel good about losing. You don’t need it in your head if you’re trying to move on.”
She uncrosses her arms, and she doesn’t say anything. The room goes quiet. She sits on the edge of her bed and pulls her sleeves down over her hands.
“Okay.”
That’s it. Okay. The tension in the room drops a little.
I shove my hands deeper in my hoodie pocket.
“You got any cereal in this house?”
She looks up at me. “Are you serious?”
“I’m an athlete, Linwood. I’ve got caloric needs that don’t sleep. I left a full beer at my house, and I came over here. I need carbs.”
“You woke me up at two in the morning to tell me my ex is being an ass and to ask for cereal.”
“Hey, we’re dating now. This is completely normal.”
She stares at me. “Fake dating.”
I give her a little pout, and her shoulders drop a quarter of an inch.
“Don’t move.”
She gets up and walks out of her bedroom. I hear her in the kitchen. A cabinet, a bowl set down on the counter, the fridge opening.
I look around the room while she’s gone. The Cup photo. The shark on her pillow. I put my eyes back on the carpet, because I just walked out of a house over that exact shark stuffed animal, and I am not about to be the second man this week to make her wish she’d hidden it.
She comes back with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, real milk, and a spoon. She hands it to me.
“Eat your carbs.”
I sit down on the floor at the side of her bed, back against it, because I don’t deserve the bed and the chair’s buried under what looks like a week of sweaters. She climbs onto the mattress cross-legged and watches me eat.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Don’t get crumbs on my carpet.”
“That’s rude,” I say with a mouthful. “I’m your guest.”
“You’re a trespasser with a bowl.”
“You need to get used to this, Linwood.” I take another bite. “All choices have a consequence.”
