“Nice hair,” I compliment him, admiring the blazing orange streak that cuts through his blond hair.
“Think so?” he asks. “I don’t know if orange is my color.”
“Where’s your lady friend?” Lorenzo asks. “Too worn out to join us?”
Reeve nods toward the window. On the other side of it, a girl I don’t recognize is chatting into her phone. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s always like that.”
“Actually,” he says, leaning over the table and helping himself to a slice of pizza, “we were talking.” He sounds proud of himself.
“You don’t talk to girls.”
“I do now.” He shrugs. “She’s got family shit going on.”
Lorenzo and I exchange a look.
“Don’t look so shocked, Ruby,” Reeve scolds. “Whatever this man told you about me, it’s all lies.”
“Not shocked, impressed,” I tell him.
He pretends to brush some dirt off his shoulder. “Yeah, well, you know.”
A few minutes later, Mrs. Reeve—whose name turns out to be Brooklyn—has joined us, and the secret Lorenzo and I share doesn’t seem so delicious anymore. Not when I see the way Brooklyn squeezes Reeve’s bicep and he throws his arm around her, how open their affection is when they barely even know each other. All I feel is envy. I want to be free to touch Lorenzo and kiss him on the cheek and stare at him without worrying whether anyone might notice my gaze lingers a little too long. I want everyone to know he’s mine. But we agreed to keep this between us. And, more importantly, I don’t even know if he is mine.
What am I actually doing?Am I a fool for jumping into this with no forethought about where it could go? Or am I a fool for not telling him years ago I wanted to be with him? It was so much easier than it should have been. I’ve never dared to think he spent the same years longing for me that I longed for him, but what if I was wrong?
And then talk turns to football and Lorenzo’s recovery, and I’m reminded he’s not mine, not for long. Lorenzo’s future isfootball, and I don’t want to go dreaming I might be part of that future when the reality is so uncertain. This miserable little feeling lives inside me for the rest of dinner, small but hungry, swallowing my enjoyment of being out with my best friend and my anticipation of what’ll happen when we go home tonight.
Reeve and Brooklyn linger at the table while Lorenzo and I say goodbye and head out. Just outside the door, Lorenzo slides his arm around me, a move he’s done a thousand times. But it’s never made me feel whole like it does now. I look at him, and nothing matters but this moment. Not even our secret. I’m not going to spend my days scared about what might happen. I kiss him right there at the window where Reeve and everyone else can see if they care to look. I feel Lorenzo’s surprise, but then his lips soften against mine and all my misery is gone. No, I don’t know what we are or what we’ll be a month from now. I don’t know his future or mine or if ours will intertwine. But right now he’s all mine.
TWENTY-FOUR
lorenzo
When I knockon Cash’s door, it’s his twin sister who answers.
“Lorenzo! How you been?” Maisy hugs me and steps back to let me inside.
“Hanging in there.”
“You look as good as ever. Cash says you’re healing well.”
“Yeah, feeling good. Hoping for the best. I’m finally allowed to be out of the sling part-time.” I pat my shoulder. “I didn’t know you were around this summer.”
“I’m out of here in two days for my internship. Crashing on this guy’s couch since I moved out yesterday.” She nods toward Cash as he comes out of his room.
Cash leans on the doorframe. “Do you know what it’s like to come face-to-face with your sister’s bra during your five a.m. shower?”
“What are you doing up at five a.m. in June?” I ask.
Cash pats his stomach. “I’m thinking about upgrading to a ten-pack for senior year. Maybe twelve.”
Maisy rolls her eyes. “If only the brain was a muscle.” She eyeballs me for a long couple of seconds, and her face lights up.“I just figured it out!” she says to Cash, then turns to me. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Committing to nothing.”
“Okay, I have a friend?—”