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Only tightening my throat keeps my chuckles from turning into peals of laughter. “Well, the rehearsals are open to the public.”
She rolls her eyes. “When I accused him of following me around, he called me presumptuous for assuming he was there to see my acting. He pointed at Dante and said he was there for him, as an appreciator of his …” she sighs and summons Tuck’s words, “thespian accolades.”
Now the peals come out, and I cover my mouth as I get a couple curious looks tossed my way. “He’s persistent, alright. You know, Hudson mentioned he hasn’t had any girls over lately, which is very out of character compared to the first several weeks of the semester …”
Olivia huffs dismissively. “Please. I wish he’d find a puck bunny and screw me out of this system already.”
“That sounded a lot like I wish he’d screw me already,” I tease.
My roommate reaches for a straw that’s lying idly on the empty table next to us and chucks it at my head.
“I guess I’ll get started on this stupid essay to take my mind of it,” Olivia sighs, bringing her laptop out of her bookbag and opening it. We sit for a while across the table, our fingers tapping away at our keypads.
Then my eyes snag on someone walking down the stairway from the second floor. It’s the owner of the ramen restaurant that Hudson likes so much. He’s taken me a couple times. Apparently, the guy is a bit of a grump—surprise, surprise that Hudson gravitated to his place of all the restaurants in Cedar Shade to make his regular spot—but last time I was in there I actually got a couple words out of him while I was ordering. His name’s Kazu.
He carries two books in his right hand. When he gets to the end of the stars and turns around, he stops. Not stops, more like freezes. He’s angled so that I can glimpse his eyes, and though his body is stalled, his gaze is animated and vivid.
I follow the trail of his eyes. Is he looking at Cindy, the owner of the bookshop? It sure seems like he is. His gaze is tethered to her as she mans the book checkout counter beyond the bakery.
I look back to Kazu. Now the look in his eyes is a little more far away. A little more dreamy. A little more longing.
“What are you looking at?” Olivia asks. She must notice my head arced, looking behind her. She turns in the direction of my gaze. “Ugh, that’s the ramen shop owner. He’s such a jerk.”
“Aw, he’s alright,” I counter.
I’ve heard other students talking about, let’s say, not having the best customer service experiences while visiting the shop.
But he and Hudson always greet each other with a curt head nod, which for guys like them is probably equivalent to making friendship bracelets for each other. And he’s been nice enough to me when Hudson’s taken me there.
“Me, Tamika, and Paul went there for lunch last week,” Olivia says. “Paul’s never had ramen before, so he asked him a couple questions about the menu, and every time that owner looked like he was getting his teeth pulled just answering a basic question about the food he serves. He was a total jerk about it.”
“I think he’s just … misunderstood,” I counter. Kazu’s finally snapped out of his daze, if that’s what it was, and is walking with his books to the register.
Olivia twists back in her seat to face me, blowing out a laugh. “You and misunderstood guys,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Speaking of which … what’s with you and Hudson now, anyway?”
Heat crawls up my neck. It’s a question I’m not prepared to answer, because I don’t know the answer, either.
Olivia knows Hudson and I are hooking up now. I mean, even if I hadn’t told her after the first time it happened, she would have heard us in my room by now. But it feels like ever since Hudson called the guys on his team out to help search for my bracelet, the intensity of what’s between us has turned up a notch.
I just wish I knew exactly what what’s between us is.
“I mean, I know there’s nothing fake about the noises I hear from your room every other day,” Olivia continues, a glint in her eye, “but what about outside that bedroom? Are you guys still,” she leans over the table to me and says in a hushed, secretive voice, “fake dating, or real dating?”
I wish I knew.
I look side to side to confirm that the two tables next to us are empty, and there’s no one within earshot. Because whatever is going on between me and Hudson, I still want everyone to believe we’re a couple.
I haven’t spoken with Sean recently, but I’ve heard his attitude has only grown worse since losing that competition. Lashing out at people, quick to take offense, ruthlessly critical of other musicians he’s been performing with. The last thing I need is for him to think he has an opening to try to get back with me now.
I answer Olivia in an equally hushed, secretive voice. “Well, obviously we still want people to think we’re together. As for what we’re actually doing …” I sigh and shrug, because what else can I do? “We’re having fun. That’s enough for now. He obviously doesn’t want to overthink it, and neither do I.”
A lie. I overthink it all the time. I’m overthinking it right now, doing a mental rewind of the last several times we’ve been together and trying to identify any word or gesture or glance from Hudson that I can hyper-analyze.
Looking for any signs I can read to guess if his feelings are deepening for me as much as mine are for him.
Sometimes I think they must be. When we’re alone, spending time together, sometimes I don’t even have any doubts. How kind he is, the conversations we have, the way he holds me, kisses me …
Then, when we’re apart, the doubts flood back.
