Page 38 of Boyfriend Material
“You also threw a blueberry at me.”
“You should dump me.”
“I tried that already. It didn’t take.”
“Seriously. If you want out, I’ll be reasonable this time.”
Oliver held my gaze for a long moment. “I don’t want out.”
Relief bubbled through me like indigestion. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I thought we’d established that fairly clearly. I’m stuffy, pompous, boring, and desperate. Nobody else will have me.”
“But you make amazing French toast.”
“Yes”—his expression grew charmingly rueful—“I’m starting to think that’s the only reason my relationships lasted as long as they did.”
For some reason, I was suddenly very aware I wasn’t allowed to kiss him.
“There’s still time to catch the last Tube,” he went on, “or I can call you a cab, if you like.”
“It’s fine. I can grab an Uber if I need to.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. Their business model is deeply unethical.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think we’ve just worked out why nobody’s going out with you.”
“Because I don’t use Uber? That seems fairly specific.”
“Because you’ve got an opinion abouteverything.”
“Don’t most people have opinions?”
At least I wasn’t thinking about kissing him anymore. “I don’t mean opinions like ‘I enjoy cheese.’ Or ‘John Lennon is overrated.’ I mean opinions like ‘You shouldn’t use Uber because of the workers’ and ‘You shouldn’t eat meat because of the environment.’ You know, opinions that make people feel bad about themselves.”
He blinked. “I don’t want anyone to feel bad about themselves or that they have to make the same choices I do—”
“Oliver, you just told me not to get an Uber.”
“Actually, I said I’d rather you didn’t get an Uber. You can still get an Uber if you want to.”
“Yeah”—somehow we’d got all close again, making me aware of the heat of him, the shapes his mouth made when he was arguing with me—“except you’ll look down on me if I do.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll accept you don’t have the same priorities I do.”
“But your priorities are clearly right.”
His brow furrowed. “I think now I’m confused. If you agree with me, what’s the problem?”
“Okay.” I drew in a calming breath. “Let me try to explain. Most of the people who aren’t you understand that capitalism is exploitative and climate change is a problem and that choices we make can support things that are bad or unjust. But we survive by a precarious strategy of not thinking about it. And reminding us of that makes us sad, and we don’t like being sad, so we get angry.”
“Oh.” He looked crestfallen. “I can see that being terribly unappealing.”
“It’s also kind of admirable,” I admitted reluctantly. “In a really infuriating way.”
“I don’t mean to cherry-pick, but did you just call me admirable?”
“You must have imagined it. And now, ironically, I’llhaveto get an Uber because I can’t make the train and I’ve got no cash for a cab.”
