Page 171 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

afraid if he says more, I’ll bolt.

I pass the Christmas lights strung along the pool hall’s front window, sucking in the biting air, my breath fogging between us.

I can't look him in the eyes.

I keep mine locked on the ground he's standing on.

His hips. His hands.

Anywhere but up.

He turns, glancing over his shoulder toward the street, where cars blow past. Then back at me, stepping closer. “C’mon, talk to me.”

A laugh rips out of me,

annoyed and echoing off brick.

I fucked another guy to hand Andrew a reason to never come back. To swim out of the deep end 'cause it was getting too fucking scary.

But here's Andrew,

wanting to lock me down

harder than ever before.

“Talk to you?” I say, snapping my eyes to his, and he rubs a palm over the back of his neck. “Okay.” I nod. “Fine. Here’s me talking: I fucked another guy not even twenty-four hours after fucking you—fucked him, Drew,” I say slow. “As in his cock was inside me.”

He rips off his glasses, presses the heel of his palm between his brows, picturing it in his head all over again.

“Jesus Christ—yeah. I know.

“I should walk.

“I should fuckin’ walk, Allison.

“But I can’t.

“You know that. You fuckin’ know it.

“That’s how fucked I am for you.”

He pushes his glasses back on,

lays a hand on his chest, and leans in,

his stare holding mine hostage.

“But that fucker didn’t take shit from me. Not a damn thing. Might’ve meant somethin’ to him. It didn’t to you. I know that it didn’t⁠—”

“How do you know⁠—”

“‘Cause I just fuckin’ do!”

And all of Hoboken snaps to silence.

His chest rises and falls fast and unsteady. He wets his bottom lip as he looks down at me.

“I just know, Allison. Okay?