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“Consider this me approaching you at a table with other guys.” Da
“Now what?”
His question brings a wave of chlorine and fresh air to wash over me as I hear Max’s voice echo the same question to me last summer. My back and thighs tingle with the memory of the blades of grass scratching my exposed skin and recall my hands yearning to reach out and touch him.
My thoughts stop as I feel a foreign touch brush against my finger and look down to see Da
Max’s face slowly dissipates like a fog as Da
“It’s been a long year,” I repeat, now that he can hear me with the crowd being a few decibels quieter.
“Okay, I’ll play my cards,” Da
“You don’t know me to like me.”
“I know that you have four sisters, so you either have the patience of a saint or have some serious fight in you. I know that Maxwell adores you, which speaks volumes because he doesn’t like anyone.” The exaggerated assessment of Fitz makes me laugh again. “And I’m very attracted to you.”
“You know, there are a lot of girls here that would be a lot less complicated.”
“I haven’t noticed anyone since you walked in.”
My eyes are stuck between wanting to roll at his remark and widening at his sincerity when my chair rocks.
“Okay, I ordered. Busty blonde seems on it. She really wants another chance with you.” Fitz sings the last few words as he settles in his seat, placing a hand on my shoulder to silently apologize for ru
“Your turn to save me,” Da
I look up to see the blonde waitress approaching with a look of determination.
“Wait until the food comes. I don’t want her spitting in it,” Fitz hisses, nodding to Da
Da
Da
“Could we get some more water?”
The crowd drowns out her reply as they yell and cheer in unison, but I catch the hint of her smile before she turns and wades through the crowds. Fitz leans forward and says something to Da
As the noise begins to recede to a loud hum that allows me to make out the sounds of Fitz’s and Da
“Shit,” Da
“Alright, H, help him out,” Fitz says, tipping his water glass back to empty it in one gulp as though it’s something stronger.
“What am I missing?”
“Harper, please don’t slap me. We’re only friends. I know that, and I’m sorry to use you.” The words flow quickly from Da
“Da
Da
The bar erupts in catcalls and whistles as Da
“Thanks,” Da
Da
When we finally stand up to leave, Da
“Alright, handsome, I think much more and you’re going to lose your friends.” A large, bald black man appears, his voice deep and husky as he creates a human barrier between Da
Da
“What are you guys doing Saturday?” Da
“I’ll text you her number, but her California blood is too thin for this weather,” Fitz says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“Okay, where’s your phone, friend?” Da
My muscles protest as I move my arm from around my middle to retrieve my phone from my purse.
Da
“Don’t trust me?” Fitz teases.
“Some things you can’t leave in the hands of others,” Da
“I’ll see you Saturday.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“You will.” He winks, squeezing my hand for a brief second. Then he slowly releases my fingers, allowing the cold to assault my skin with vengeance against the warmth he left behind. I hear him laugh as he follows the large black man that’s clearly giving him a hard time down the road.
“Best. Friend. Ever.” Fitz tugs me closer, and we walk with me under his arm to the car. “I should wear a badge. No, no, a medal!” he cries, patting a spot on his chest as we make it back to his car. “I bet you can find one online.”
When I get home, the silence swallows me. The threat of impending thoughts has me deliberately drawing out the process of getting ready for bed in an attempt to avoid them. I watch several episodes of a sitcom that I manage to laugh at a few times with only slight force as my mind quietly buzzes.
Eventually, I turn it off and let out a deep breath as I close my eyes and lie back. The night begins unraveling, one thread at a time. The kiss had been so sudden and such a surprise it hadn’t fully registered until just now. I press my fingers to my lips at the memory of feeling Da
I lie in bed again, feeling like my chest has been stuffed with cotton. I can’t breathe. I can hear the condescending tone of my heart as images fly through my mind—images of Max smiling and laughing, looking at me with adoration and love. I can feel his skin warm against me, taste his lips as they touch mine. My breath hitches as a sharp, gut-wrenching ache forces me to curl into myself and grasp my chest to make sure I haven’t somehow been physically ripped open.