Page 31 of Kissing is the Easy Part
“You don’t need to show them,” I interrupt.
Dylan leans forward and places his palms on the table. “I’mintrigued. Do share. Does Seany text you in Morse code?”
“Here’s one about how zebras need their herd to feel safe, and he calls me Zebra One to his Zebra Two. And—oh, this one. ‘I miss how you feel against my largest organ.’”
Sydney’s eyes widen, and Flora clarifies, “Skin, Sydney. It’s the skin.”
Dylan smirks. “Yeah, that’s notmylargest organ.”
“It’s not as large as you might think.” Sydney glares at him and he grins, then shakes his head at me. “Dude, you’re embarrassing.” This is premium roast material. I’ll never live it down.
The things I do for you, Flora. I could be at home right now, in sweatpants.
We keep playing, swapping more couple secrets as I pretend to study the wetlands habitat bonus card, and I die a little more every second. Every new reveal is a fresh nail in my coffin, but Flora’s having fun, so there’s that. Glad my lameness counts as currency.
At one point, a waitress comes by to refill our water, wearing a shirt with a plunging neckline. When she leans down, the outline of her purple bra is hard to miss. Dylan, being a pal, kicks me under the table.
He could’ve been a little more tactful because Sydney catches it too. Dylan used to be a serial cheater, and even though he’s pulled his shit together, the history is enough to keep Sydney on edge. Instead of calling him out directly, she goes for the jugular by bringing up his contributions to the game last Friday. “You only scored two points,” she says. “It wouldn’t even matter if you were off the team.”
Dylan is his own worst critic, and he gets that look when he’s beating himself up. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged through the mud like that.
“He’s the point guard,” I say, even though I should stay out of it.Flora would never do this to me.“He’s not supposed to shoot that much. His job is to set things up and create opportunities for the rest of us, not rack up points for himself.”
“Exactly.” Dylan perks up. “I pass to Sean and Jake, who are the primary scorers. My job’s to get them the ball.” He pauses to grin at me. “Sean’s performance could be a little more consistent, though.”
And that’s the thanks I get for sticking up for him.
Sydney scoffs. “Then a point guard must be someone who sucks at shooting.”
“Dylan has one of the highest free throw percentages on the team,” I say.
“Yeah, Syd. Maybe you should shut up before people realize you’re stupid,” Dylan says. “Or is it too late?”
Flora’s mouth falls open for half a second before she smooths it over with a bright smile. “Oh, come on, Dyl, don’t be like that.” She swings an arm around Sydney’s shoulder. “And Syd, Ilovewatching them play, don’t you? They look so good in their basketball jerseys. Remember that buzzer-beater Dylan made last month? We’re so proud to be part of the Wolverines family.”
Flora’s skills in diffusing tough situations are epic. She’s familiar with our plays, can break down strategies, and makes insightful comments that surprise me all the time, but she dumbs herself down to lighten the atmosphere. My chest aches in the best way, and all I want is to take her home, away from these people.
By then, Dylan’s chugging water quicker than rain absorption in the Sahara Desert so that our waitress comes by for refills more frequently. Finally, Sydney says, “Why don’t you ask her for some duct tape so you can attach your face to her cleavage?”
Dylan shrugs. “If I had duct tape, I’d use it over your mouth.”
Sydney picks up her glass and throws the water in his face.
Flora stands up. “I have to make a call outside.”
Really?Abandoning me in the middle of the battlefield? After she’s the one who suggested this? They’re on the verge of a breakup right in front of me, and I’m left scrambling to keep the peace—and the plastic egg tokens—from rolling off the table.
My phone rings, and Flora says, “This is your rescue call. Come join me outside.”
Dylan and Sydney are too busy tearing each other apart to care when I leave. I push open the door to find Flora laughing.
“Happy now?” I pinch her nose.
“How did we go from a wholesome bird-themed board game to—what the heck was that?”
“One of the duller episodes ofThe Sydney/Dylan Show.”
She puts her arms around my neck. We kiss for a while in the corner of the coffee shop, relieved to have a moment alone. No noise, no second-guessing if she’s already getting bored. When we leave that evening, we’re convinced we’re the best couple in the world.
