Page 80 of The Tattered Gloves
“WHAT DOES THIS mean?” Allison asked as we sat together at the lonely café the day after Christmas.
She’d made good on her promise and called me first thing this morning, wanting to know if I was still alive since I hadn’t bothered to check in.
So, I’d suggested a late lunch. Late to avoid the crowd. Lunch because… well, we both liked food.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
“Are you dating?”
My shoulders lifted in doubt. “No idea.”
“You didn’t ask him?” she pressed.
“Not really. I mean… I’ve never really done this. Is that what you’re supposed to do? That seems kind of formal. And lame.”
“Well, usually, you know, Willow. You don’t walk away, scratching your head, leaving your best friend to ask all the important questions.”
I had to laugh at how flustered she was over my lack of information. She wasn’t upset. Not by any means. When I’d broken the news to her, I was fairly certain birds fell from the sky from the shrill sound of her screams alone.
She was happy for me.
Definitely happy.
Well, except for the whole clarification part.
“I’ll try harder,” I said, creating tiny hearts on the wood table from the water droplets that had fallen from my glass of soda.
“You’d better,” she replied, smiling. “Otherwise, I’ll just have to get my information from him.”
My eyes widened as she took another bite of her BLT.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she explained. “Not that I think Sam would ever do such a thing. But you are both special to me, so you can see why I have an invested interest in this relationship.”
Relationship.
My stomach did a flip-flop, making me regret how quickly I’d eaten my lunch.
“What if he decides he doesn’t like me? What if it was just a brief moment of insanity? Too many Christmas cookies or something?” I asked in a panic.
She smiled, the type of smile she gave me when she knew I was being ridiculous.
I knew it, too.
“Sam doesn’t do anything without ample consideration. When we were ten and his parents told him he could pick out a new bike for his birthday… it took him six months. Six months, Willow! He was half a year older by the time he’d weighed all the pros and cons of each type and model. So, no, I don’t think he’s going to change his mind. He seems pretty determined.”
“Okay, but what if I can’t do this, Allison?” I asked, feeling helpless.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
I held up my hands, the pain clearly written across my face. “I won’t even let anyone near me. How can I have a boyfriend if I’m always going to be wearing these? They’re like a giant Stop sign.”
“Sam said you held hands. Well, sort of. He tried to explain it, but he’s a guy, and it got all sorts of confusing.”
My eyes met hers. “You already talked to him? I should have known.”
She shrugged. “He called me before he went over to your house for breakfast. Wanted to make sure it was okay before he made his move.”
“His move?”
