Page 56 of Dirty Martini
“I don’t know if you’ll like any of these,” he says, almost bashful, as he sits and places the stack between us.
I look through what he brought me. There’s an action thriller, a historical fiction, a comedy play, and a philosophy book. None of them seem too interesting, but I pick out the action thriller and hold it up with a weak smile. “This is good.”
“Okay, well, make yourself comfortable,” he says, gesturing to the bed.
“You’re not going to read?” I ask when he scoots up the bed. When he reaches for something on his nightstand, I raise an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
I must imagine the way his cheeks flush as he holds a black book close to his chest. “It’s a sketchbook.”
“You sketch?” I ask, surprised. He’s never struck me as the creative type, and I’m intrigued. “What do you sketch?”
He hesitates, nibbling on his bottom lip. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Why would I?” I crawl up to meet him by the headboard. “I mean, you don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”
Indecision coats his features before he opens the book slowly, angling it so I can see. I don’t take it from him, but I do flip through the pages. There’re a ton of sketches, some math I don’t understand annotated in the corner, and it takes a minute for me to realize what these are. “Wait, are these?—”
“Roller coasters,” he says sheepishly. “I’ve always kind of wanted to design them.”
“Really?” I ask, looking closer at his designs. “What’s this one supposed to be?”
“It’s a double roller coaster,” he explains, and I don’t miss the way his face brightens as he speaks. “So basically, there’s a coaster on either end of the structure and they intertwine and loop around each other.”
I flip the page, interested in his sketches, but also wanting more of his contagious enthusiasm. “And this one?”
“A Ferris wheel,” he says. “But it’s not like a typical one. There’re multiple levels that circle around each other so you can see the people in the other cart.”
“And you’ve done all the math?”
“Yeah, well, I have to make sure they work,” he chuckles, cheeks still pink, almost boyish in his cuteness. “The math really interests me. The physics behind making structures like these are super complicated, and it’s almost like a puzzle.”
“This is so impressive,” I tell him honestly.
“I know it’s stupid?—”
“It’s not,” I rush out, smiling to reassure him. “Besides math, what makes you like them?”
“People have fun,” he says with a shrug. “I think it would be cool to make someone’s day like that.”
“That’s really sweet,” I tease as I poke at his side.
He rolls his eyes and shoves me away gently. “Fuck off. It’s just a stupid hobby.”
“Why just a hobby?”
He levels me with a look, but it’s not malicious. If anything, it’s more like a deadpan, as if the answer should be obvious. It dawns on me then why this is just a dream to him. Making roller coasters would make him an engineer, and to be one, he’d have to have a degree in it. Something that’s out of reach for him.
Guilt hits me suddenly, making my mouth dry and my stomach churn. “Oh…”
“Yeah,” he sighs, picking up a pencil from the nightstand.
The air is tense now, the unspoken elephant in the room lingering between us. I expect him to maybe lash out at the reminder of the past, but he doesn’t. If anything, he looks resigned, and I don’t know why that’s so much worse.
“Why didn’t you ever go to college?” I dare to ask, but I wish I had kept my mouth shut when he flinches. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business?—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupts, setting an easing hand on my thigh. “You were right.”
I cock my head. “How so?”
