Page 71 of Pieces of Us

‘Like looking us both up, do you, mate?’ He just had to twist the knife of shame, didn’t he? He chuckles as he stretches out his arm behind Amity, who seems to be turning her body every time one of us talks.

Why the fuck didn’t one of us just sit on the adjacent chair? We look as if we’re trying to vye for the world’s most uncomfortable school photo.

‘We met when I interviewed his NFL team, and then later randomly, at a party,’ Amity offers.

I’m taken aback slightly. The Amity I know—or knew—despises the party scene. She certainly wasn’t caught dead at any after she walked in on me at the last one. For the rest of our senior year, she avoided them like the plague.

‘We sure did, baby,’ he laughs. ‘We make our own parties now.’ What the fuck does that mean? ‘If we have to make an appearance somewhere, we do that and then bolt. Nothing worse than being stuck around pretentious people and precarious situations.’

Amity averts her gaze away from me as if she’s remembering the dark side of Hollywood’s glitz and glamour.

Before I can press either of them for more information, Jas plops herself down next to me, slapping my stomach hard.

‘Move, bro. I want to meet Mr Hotshot over here.’ She extends her hand across both me and Amity. ‘Jasmine.’

‘Hi.’ He gleefully takes her hand in his, returning her sparkling smile.

‘I watch all your games with Uncle Mark. Big fan,’ she gushes.

I stifle a roll of my eyes as she fangirls over him. It’s only when I see Amity staring at me that I can see she and I are having the same thoughts, which brings a secret smile to my lips.

‘I’m just going to start dressing some salads,’ Amity says, standing so she can give us all more space.

‘I’ll help.’ I jump at the opportunity to spend a little more time with her.

‘It’s fine. I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

Slumping in disappointment as she walks away, I reluctantly hone back in on the conversation between Jas and Jagger. As he regales his time on the field, my gaze is laser-focused on Amity, who is flitting about the kitchen. I watch as she shakes the coleslaw dressing, taste tests the vinegar on the Greek salad and dips her spoon in the bean salad to see if there’s enough onion. Rome joins her and chats merrily as he sips his beer, sitting on the counter top.

I tune out to the flirty giggles my sister is tossing Jagger’s way, his stupid, all-American boy accent and the chatter of our friends and family behind us. All I want to hear and see is my Amity. My heart. My soul.

‘Jag, come check on your pie,’ the object of my affection sings as she bends to open the oven door. Billowing steam rises as she waves it away with a tea-towel.

‘Coming, baby.’ He needs to cut the shit with this ‘baby’ nonsense. It’s too familiar, and I’m irked because that’s one of my pet names for her—especially when we’re intimate.

‘Pie?’ Jas stares at him dreamily.

‘He makes the best sweet potato pie and insisted he make it for dessert today,’ Amity answers, wandering back over to us, waiting for Jagger. ‘Every time we see each other, I demand he make it for me.’

‘Only the best for my favourite girl.’ At this point, the fucker is playing with me. I can tell he’s trying to get a rise out of me. Amity shoots him another warning glance but lightens it with a playful smirk.

When they walk away, I sullenly lean back in the cushions, hoping they swallow me.

‘Cheer up, bro. Remember, you had sex with her a few days ago.’ I cough on my beer at my sister being so casual and candid.

‘Dinner’s ready!’ Amity calls, pulling everyone to the table.

There isn’t any awkwardness or temper tantrums. In fact, it’s fun to be together with the people who used to matter the most to me. I know I’m quieter than usual, marinating in my emotions over being here with everyone. If I hadn’t fucked up, I can’t help but wonder if we would have had a couple of little rugrats running around, or if Amity would be wearing a ring.

There is no point dwelling on the past, but I know with every fibre of my being that I want her to be in my future. She is my future.

Everyone makes an effort to include Jagger in the conversation, filling him in on Amity’s childhood. A lot of the stories include Lily and Rome, but even more include me, which makes me somewhat melancholy to think about. At some point, all the stories about us ended.

As much as I want to dislike Jagger because he is protective over Amity, he is actually a pretty cool guy. Nice. He makes sure to ask questions about our lives and is attentive in follow-up questions.

Someone tells him that I am obsessed with buffalo wings, and he happens to be the ambassador for one of my favourite sauces, so he says he’ll send me a hamper full of them. The conversation leads us to bond over spicy food, including our love for the YouTube show, Hot Ones, which he will be starring on shortly.

He isn’t arrogant, bored or acting like we are beneath him. He’s charismatic when he speaks about his life as an athlete and the sacrifices he’s made to get to where he is. He loves his family, and he is highly protective of his close circle of friends, which of course includes Amity.