I shrug and shake my head. “No. I’m glad she’s happy.” Surprisingly, I realize I mean it. “So what about you, lover boy? Getting any from a regular source, or stil breaking hearts and bal s al over the country?”
Tadd leans up again, his face earnest. “Dude, I met someone a month ago, and I’m so in love it’s not even funny. I’m like head over heels, first time ever. It’s sick.”
“Al right, Thaddeus.” I put up my fist and he bumps it with his, beaming. “So who is he?” I lean up. “Are you about to out somebody? Cause if so, you know you can trust me.”
“Nah, he’s an architect. So damned smart it blows my mind. Creative, gorgeous, funny, sexy…” He’s lost in his own thoughts for a couple of seconds.
“Okay, okay, stop or I’m gonna have to consider going g*y, man,” I say, and he laughs.
“Dude—it’s al we can do to keep our hands off of each other in public. It’s always felt a little daring—al the covert stuff.” He shrugs. “I’ve never felt like this before. I want to hold his hand when we’re walking, or brush the hair out of his eyes when he’s got coffee in one hand and the dog’s leash in the other.” His mouth quirks up on one side again as he stares into his drink. “It’s different when you’re in love.”
I think of al of the things I take for granted. I could grab a stranger, kiss her in public, and the worst anyone wil think or say is get a room. Tadd’s in love, but they can’t hold hands in most public places without worrying what someone might do or say.
“Sucks to be you, man,” I say, and he makes like he’s gonna punch me in the arm. I flinch and spil part of my drink on the table. “Dude!”
We’re both laughing when he says, “So what about you?
We’re both laughing when he says, “So what about you?
Anybody new?”
I shake my head. “You don’t even want to know.”
“Oh?” Both eyebrows angle up as he leans closer. “Oh, yes I do. I so do. Lay it on me, man. Is it that girl from the Habitat place?”
Damned paparazzi. “That was just a clumsy girl fal ing off of a patio.”
Out of nowhere I remember the fruit fal ing from the sky, so surreal. The feel of her in my arms as I caught her. Her face flaming as she struggled to move off of me. I almost made a smartass comment about her lack of grace, but she was already so humiliated that I couldn’t do it. I fol owed her inside instead.
I don’t know what I expected. I sure didn’t expect to try to kiss her—that was completely spontaneous. When she ran her fingers across my scalp to search for stray bits of fruit, I had a sharp, three-second vision of her lying under me in my bed, her hands thrusting into my hair as I lean down to kiss her...
“Earth to Reid.” Tadd’s voice is pure cynicism. I blink and look up and he shakes his head slowly. “Oh, yeah.
There’s nothing going on there. Not at al .” Busted. “Yeah, wel , she’s not the slightest bit into me. I tried to kiss her and she objected in a resounding no-means-no sort of way. And then disappeared for the rest of the week.”
Tadd smiles and holds his drink aloft towards me.
“Here’s to chal enges, dude.”
My friend may have a point. Maybe Dori’s just playing hard-to-get better than any girl I’ve ever met, and I’ve just gotten lazy.
Dori, one. Reid, zero.
But not for long.
*** *** ***
Dori
Nick and I were planning to hang out tonight, but he’d forgotten his promise to watch his foster brothers while his parents take his foster sister to San Diego for a supervised visit with her birth mother. I assured him several times that I understood completely and was fine with the late cancel ation.
Mom and Dad are out with friends. “Wel , Esther, it’s just you and me tonight,” I tel her, scratching gently behind her floppy spaniel ears, which are the only spaniel component on her. The rest of her is a curious mix of—as far as we can tel —golden retriever, shepherd, and possibly dachshund.
She’s a true mutt. “Let’s make sandwiches.” I pul ingredients out of the fridge and pantry, and rol slices of deli turkey for her. Her tail tick-tocks gently side to side as I set the plate in front of her. “Need a pickle with that? No?” I ask as she gingerly lifts each rol and gobbles it down.
She lies next to me on the sofa (an Esther no-no she gets away with when we’re alone) while I eat my pita sandwich and scrol through network TV options. Nothing looks interesting, so I browse the pay-per-view selections.
I’m in the mood for something cute. No slashers, no thril ers, no buddy flicks. No historical drama or redemption-through-pain-and-or-suffering films. Especial y nothing that says profoundly moving or grab a hankie! in the description.
“Here we go, Esther: ‘Trey begins his senior year at a new school with girls swooning for him, and jocks as friends. Things get complicated when he fal s for quiet, bookish Amanda, who becomes a social pariah after she rats out the footbal players’ cheating ring, half the first string fails English, and the team loses the big championship game.’”
Esther turns on her side and lays her head on my leg. “I think we have a winner.” I click buy, press the play button and grab a handful of popcorn, thinking that I should be sad that Nick had to bail on me. That I didn’t have time to make plans with anyone else. That I’m spending my Saturday night alone. But I’m fine. I’m more than fine.