Page 77 of The Breakaway

He shrugged, sitting down across from me. "Not quite as dickish as talking loud at nine-thirty in the morning." I feigned indignation as he poured his milk. "I'm sorry you're not going home for Christmas."

“That’s a lot of apologies for one morning.”

Rob chuckled, then pushed the Fruit Loops box toward me. “This morning calls for more than a banana.”

I hesitated, then nodded. "Thanks.” I grabbed a bowl and spoon.

Rob started eating, and I followed suit. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had something that tasted like literal childhood. Like Buckshot and Benny with Saturday morning cartoons.

We sat there in silence, the only sound the clinking of our spoons against the porcelain bowls. When I finished my cereal, I set my spoon down and looked up to find Rob watching me. "Thanks for this."

He took his last bite and swallowed. “For calling your mom a bitch?”

I grinned. “Exactly.”

“Anytime.” His mouth quirked, and he dropped his eyes.

I took my bowl to the sink, then reached for Rob’s. He pushed it forward but didn’t let go. “I changed my mind.”

I frowned. “About what?” My heart flipped. About moving out? I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. So ironic. It was all I’d wanted for the past year, and now that it was happening, I felt like my stomach was on a merry-go-round.

“Maybe we can be friends.” Rob let go of his bowl and the handle of his spoon skittered along the edge.

I rinsed both our dishes and put them in the dishwasher just as a knock came at the door. Was it possible for a plumber to be early?

Rob stood and answered it. The plumber walked in with a bucket and tool belt, and Rob smiled, making easy small talk as he led him into his washroom.

I walked back into my room to get ready for the day, then stopped. There was nothing to get ready for. I took in my rumpled bed and, before I could question it, crawled back in and pulled the covers up to my chin.

_____

When I woke, afternoon light slanted through the window, bathing the room in a honeyed glow.How long had I slept?

I jumped out of bed and cleaned up in the washroom, then put on fresh clothes and brushed my hair. I walked out to the living room and found Rob sitting on the couch with a book.Rob read books?

He glanced up and smiled. "Ready to go?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Normally I would ask what he was talking about, but then Rob grinned and stood from the couch. He walked to the front door and grabbed his coat.

Okay, then. Apparently, we were going out.

We walked to his truck and drove. I stared out at the campus as we drove past. The trees were bare, their branches stretching like fingers against the grey sky. Fresh snow already dusted the sidewalks.

Rob parked at the A&W and turned to me. “I was craving a Teen Burger.”

I grinned. “And poutine.”

We crossed the parking lot, and Rob held the door for me. The warm smell of root beer, onions and fries enveloped us. We ordered, and I insisted on paying for Rob’s food to thank him for picking me up at the gas station.

Normally, an added expense like that would’ve stressed me out, but with that award, my bank account was flush.

We collected our tray and sat across from each other in the corner booth. I unwrapped my Teen Burger carefully, the paper crinkling in my hands. The first bite was perfect—charbroiled beef, crisp lettuce, and that tangy, mustardy sauce.

Rob lifted his burger, his elbows on the table as he leaned in, focused. "I don’t know if there are enough pickles.”

I laughed, spearing a gooey forkful of poutine. The cheese curds stretched as I lifted the fork to my mouth. "You should probably complain." He took a big bite. “What’s the verdict?”

He held up a finger while he chewed and swallowed. “It’s good.”

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