Page 35 of Kissing is the Easy Part
Before he leaves, he tugs me behind the building to kiss me. “I’m so lucky to have a girlfriend like you. You’re intelligent, fun, interesting, witty,andsupportive.”
He pauses to kiss me after every adjective, and I laugh, somewhat relieved that he cares enough to offer me a half-hearted consolation. Even if, right now, I’m competing with the entire universe for a scrap of his time.
* * *
I join Carmen, Jake, Dylan, and Sydney for an afternoon treat. When no one has a better idea, we stop at Amber’s, our go-to ice-cream place, and as usual, the smell of fresh-baked waffles and the red vinyl seats comfort me.
“Did you have a good Christmas break?” Jake scrapes the bottom of his bowl. “Bet you went somewhere luxurious again.”
“I went to a resort in Jackson Hole with my parents.”And they talked to each other every day about value propositions and clinical trials while I played with my phone.“You?”
“Eh. Me and my sister helped my dad renovate the bathroom. My mom picked the worst tiles. They’re near impossible to remove.” Jake has this way of smiling that makes everything seem like a private joke, like his eyes are always laughing. I wonder how he can be so perpetually happy.
“We didn’t go anywhere either,” Dylan says. He means him and his mom. Sean told me Dylan’s dad flew for Alaska Airlines before he passed, and now Dylan spends as much time with his lawyer mom as he can. I ran into them at a restaurant once, and they were fully engaged in conversation in Spanish. She didn’t seem bored, and he never checked his phone.
Apparently, highly educated professionalscanhave a decent sit-down dinner with their kid. Who knew?
Jake pushes aside his empty bowl and pulls out a deck of cards, grinning at Carmen like a magician warming up for his big trick. After three failed attempts, he shuffles the cards again and lets her pick one. The seven of diamonds.
“It’s got to be this one, right?” He flips over the ace of spades with a flourish.
“Exactly!” Carmen claps. He beams.
I used to like our group gatherings, and I do like my friends, a lot, but without Sean it’s not nearly as fun. What is it about crushing on someone that sucks out the joy of life? Shouldn’t it add to it instead?
“Is Sean studying?” Carmen asks.
I nod, stabbing at my dessert.
“Is that even normal? No time for a sundae?” Sydney’s eyes are innocent, but her lips twitch as if she’s mocking me.
Dylan has his arm around Sydney’s shoulders. “He’s not bored with you, is he?”
“Hardly.” I nearly break the glass with my spoon. “Sean’s going places. Wait till he invents something.”
Dylan laughs. “Someone’s in a mood.”
“That’s just Sean,” Jake says. “Let him do his thing and he’ll let us copy his homework.”
“Are you even in the same classes as Sean?” Carmen teases.
Jake shrugs and laughs. “We take German together. We’re backpacking in Germany this summer. He’ll probably memorize every train schedule before we even land.”
Sean finally got a passport for this trip too. It’s so him to pick the least fashionable cities in Europe. Munich and Berlin. Not Paris. Not Milan. Just World War II history and wursts. I told him if he brings me back Birkenstocks, I’m throwing them straight into Puget Sound.
“Can’t wait to meet Europeans. We’re counting on Sean to introduce us,” Dylan adds, and Sydney pinches his shoulder. He snakes his hand up the hem of her shirt and rubs the small of her back. Sean says they’re too intense for his taste, but she sure keeps him interested.
I think of Sean kissing me this afternoon and the sweet things he said. But all the kisses in the world can’t silence the warning bell in my head. I worship and admire my boyfriend for his great ambition, but simultaneously, the exact same thing intimidates me. I’m standing on the edge of something I’ll never quite measure up to.
That’s the fear that keeps nagging at me, that he’ll realize I’m not ambitious or smart enough for him, and I’m holding him back. I’m not the kind of girl who dreams of solving world problems. I want to live in the moment and have fun. What if I’m just another fleeting distraction before he moves on to better things?
Eventually, he’ll get tired of me.
* * *
A week later, I’m having dinner with Sean on a beautiful Saturday night. We’ve been together for four months, through amber canopies of maple leaves, steaming mugs of cocoa, frost-laced windows, and melting snowflakes. Winter still has its claws in the city, but now it’s the start of February, and I can almost smell spring (or wet mulch). While that may sound trivial, it’s a significant milestone to me, one that I treasure.
It’s our first proper date in weeks. Finally, a nice dinner without distractions where we can pretend he’s not drowning in work and I’m not counting down the days until he’s free again. He’s even dressed up a little, which for Sean means upgrading his usual crewneck or hoodie to a soft knit sweater polo in an oatmeal color, with a subtle rim of blue lining the collar and sleeves. A hint of preppy, but still him.
