“Let me educate you on small town social structures.” I glance at her.
She’s pivoted in her chair to face me more fully. It’s casual—the way she leans into the chair like we’re just two friends on a drive through town, sharing our thoughts as we go.
I take a deep breath. “People pick their friends. And those become the people they do life with. If you’re not in that circle, you might not even be officially shunned. Just—not included.”
Maybe I’ve always told myself I didn’t mind being on the outside because it hurt less than admitting I wanted in. Either way, I’ve adjusted to life as it is. Alex’s presence—seeing my life through her eyes—is suddenly making me want more.
“So, you’re telling me they get together for things all the time and you’re never invited?” Her outrage on my behalf is endearing.
“Yeah. Pretty much. But it’s okay. I’m not big on hanging out in groups all the time anyway. I like one-to-one relationships more. And I’ve got my cousin. And my mom. And hobbies. And this job.”
It sounds radically pathetic when I say it all out loud. I’m not miserable. I like my life. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more.
“Well, I’m glad they came to their senses and invited you to this one.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as if she’s miffed.
“Probably because of you,” I say, and then regret saying it right away.
“You think?”
I know. “Yeah. I do. It’s okay, though. My feelings aren’t hurt.” Not much. “And I’m glad you’re being included.”
“Hmph.” She doesn’t speak for a little while.
“Please don’t say anything to any of them,” I finally say into the silence.
She looks at me sideways, pursing her lips.
“No. Really. Don’t. If people decide to include me in events or friendships, I want it to be organic. I don’t want charity invites.”
“I understand,” she agrees. Then she eyes me from head to toe. “Wear something other than your uniform.”
I chuckle. “No one will recognize me if I do.”
More laughter, soft and easy. And hers draws out mine. When was the last time I laughed like this? I make the mistake of looking over at Alex. Her eyes are crinkled at the corners, her mouth open, head slightly tipped back. The sight of her is like a punch to the gut.
She’s so far out of my league. Beautiful. Articulate. Funny. And, she’s my partner.
I straighten my face, focusing on the job for the rest of our shift and fighting the gnawing feelings of affection trying to grow roots and establish themselves as something more than a passing infatuation with the new girl in town.
“What about this?” I turn in front of my phone, which is propped low against the wall of my bedroom.
“Too dressy,” Landon says from my phone screen in a half-bored, half-amused tone. “Why do you care, man? These are the people who have barely ever bothered to invite you to anything for all these years. Go as yourself. Wear what’s comfortable and clean.”
“It’s not them.”
Understanding dawns in Landon’s eyes and spreads like syrup over a pancake across his face. “Ahhhh. This is about your new partner in crime. Or not-crime. Partner in not crime.”
He’s right. It’s not about impressing the people I’ve known my whole life. This is about not coming across as the boring small-town cop to Alex.
“I just want to look good. Okay?”
“Yeah you do.” Landon chuckles.
“What am I doing?” I plop onto the edge of my bed, running my hands through my hair.
Landon’s quiet for a beat. Then he says, “You’re getting ready for a party. That’s all. It’s not more than that. You like this woman. That’s not a bad thing. One day, a woman you like will see you for who you are. And she’ll actually want you to pursue her.”
Alex sees me. I don’t share that with Landon. “What if she doesn’t?”
