Page 45 of Rebound
“Nope. I’ll pick sausages, so we can share.”
This is what I mean; he takes care of me. Yes, he’s flirting, but he’s always thinking of me. I wonder if he weighs everything he says or if it’s spur of the moment. Either way, he’s making it impossible to ignore my feelings. Even though I’m trying very hard.
“Are you still deathly afraid of octopuses?”
He looks at me with wide eyes. “Yes! They have multiple arms and they squirt ink that can blind you. It’s a double whammy of danger.”
I laugh at his dramatics. At camp, when we weren’t staring at clouds, we were discussing things that we loved or scared us. There’s a pinch in my chest because I miss those kids. I miss who we once were.
“You still think jellyfish are pretty, don’t you?”
“Obviously,” I reply and hitch up the side of my T-shirt to show him the watercolour jellyfish tattoo. His eyes widen even further and his fingers brush against the ink before he’s tugging the cotton down to cover me up.
“That’s what it is.” The words are said softly as he holds my shirt down. “Don’t get me in trouble, Lo.”
I blush. I didn’t do it with the intention of almost flashing everyone. “Favourite fruit?”
“Hasn’t changed,” he answers and it takes me a few minutes to remember he was obsessed with my watermelon chapstick during the summers. Every morning on our way to breakfast, he’d press his lips to mine for a taste. His mouth would have a slight sheen to it through the day and when he ran out, he’d hunt me down for another smooch.
“Is green still your favourite colour?” he asks, snapping me out of my trip down memory lane.
“Don’t have a favourite anymore. If it looks good on me, I like it.”
“Everything looks good on you, Lo.”
“True, but some colours are better,” I counter and nudge him gently. “Did you finally pick a favourite movie?”
“Fuck no,” he says with a laugh, pulling me close again. This time to avoid a couple totally oblivious to how much space they’re taking up on the pavement. I’m tempted to step on their extended feet, but Patrick tugs me forward too fast.
“What about the movies I recommended?”
“Some were good. I dunno if any of them could be considered a favourite.”
“For shame, Trick.”
He drapes an arm over my shoulder. “You can introduce me to new ones now.”
My arm slides around his waist and despite every brain cell telling me it’s a bad idea, I lean into him as we walk.
“Why don’t you have social media?”
“I had Facebook for a bit, but didn’t see the need for people to be in my business all the time.”
“Now the world is on Instagram.”
He shrugs. “Not my world. And besides, I don’t understand half the things people say online anymore.”
“You’re such an old man.”
“Whatever. Nihal keeps me updated on the goings-on.”
I gasp. “The captain of the Indian team? He’s hot.”
“Don’t you even…”
I laugh and squeeze his side. “Don’t worry, Trick. One hockey player at a time is all I can handle.”
“You’re going to destroy me before this kid is even born.”
