“That first date I promised you when I was on one knee.”
I laugh, embarrassed. “Benson, you were so drunk that night. You don’t have to follow through with anything you said when—”
He drops to one knee, and my heart is in my throat. Tears prick my eyes as I look down at him. I start laughing, but I’m already crying.
“Will you skip tutoring and go on a date with me?”
I cover my face and lean down. “Will you please get up?” I say through my hands.
“Only if you answer me.” His eyes are bright as he looks at me. He’s being serious.
People are stopping to watch. A girl with a backpack gawks. A pair of girls in matching Camden U sweatshirts have turned around and are now walking backward to keep us in their line of sight. A guy smiles when he looks down at Benson Reeve on one knee. My face is hot. Really hot.
“Benson. Get up.”
He says, “Give me an answer.”
I reach down and grab his face in both hands. His skin is warm under my palms. His jaw was recently shaved, so his skin is buttery smooth. Tears are still falling from my eyes because I cannot believe this man. Now I’m crying because I am going to say yes. And I might lose my best friend over this, and somewhere in the next eight months, I am going to mourn a version of my life I didn’t get to live.
“Just say yes, baby. We’ll figure out the rest.”
Baby?I wince. We’re not even drunk right now, and he’s still giving me the same treatment from that night. I drop to my knees on the sidewalk in front of him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hide my face in the place where his neck meets his shoulder. His arms come around me again.
“Do I feel you nodding?”
I nod.
“Do I feel you nodding again?”
I nod again.
He stands, picking me up with him. I’m light against his chest for a half second and then my feet find the ground. His arms are still around me, and I am laughing now in a different way. He reaches down for my tote and slings it over his shoulder. Hewipes the tear track from under my left eye with the side of his thumb and then grabs my hand.
“Come on.”
He takes me to a diner three blocks from campus that does Camdenkfast all day and that has the kind of red vinyl booths that creak when you sit. I think the place is called Big D’s. The bell over the door jingles when we walk in. The waitress is a tired woman in her fifties with an apron and a name tag that saysDonna.
Benson lets me slide into the booth first. He sits across from me with his back to the rest of the room. Donna brings us two waters and two menus. We order coffee. After she walks away, I wrap both hands around the water glass.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I’m really embarrassed.”
He searches my face. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
I don’t take his word for it. “How much did you hear?”
He looks down. “Almost the whole thing.”
I’m burning on the inside that I hadn’t noticed him.
“I’m sorry that I eavesdropped.”
I take a sip of water. “Tell me something,” I beg of him.Anything.
Donna comes back with the coffee and a small ramekin of jam. She slides them across the table without commentary. We order — he gets pancakes and bacon, I get a grilled cheese and tomato soup. She takes the menus and walks off. I hold my coffee with both hands.
“I’m excited about the home opener.”
“Oh,” I say, not knowing exactly what that means, but I know it’s for hockey. “When is that?”
