I hesitate, unsure, since I didn’t actually think he’d go along with it, but…
“What’s…what’s your favorite color?” I ask, feeling like I already know the answer. It has to be black, or white, or some other very boring, very basic color that fits his personality.
“Blue,” he says quickly, shocking me.
“Blue?”
“Yeah. Blue.”
“Huh.” I sit there, staring at him for long moments.
“Why do you look surprised?”
“Because you only wear black and white, and your office is beige. I expected something boring, not an actual good option.” I study him. “What kind of blue?” I expect him to brush me off, but once again, he takes it seriously.
“Like…” He closes his eyes. The sun casts shadows on the sharp lines of his face, softening them as he lets out a breath. I wish I could paint it, capture the moment of peace forever, but it’s gone just as quickly as it came. “Summer sky blue. The bright kind that means warm days and—” He opens his eyes and stares at me. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I blink and shake my head.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head, trying to find my grip on reality, to knock myself from this strange dreamland I keep falling into. “I just didn’t expect you’d have such a good answer. That’s my favorite color too. More like a robin’s egg blue, though.”
“You wear a lot of blue. It looks nice on you,” he says. I freeze, caught off guard by the compliment, unsure how to react or what to say next, when he continues. “Okay, my turn.”
“Your turn?”
“Do only you get to ask things?” he asks.
“I…I guess not,” I say, confused because I didn’t think he’d actually go for this in the first place. I didn’t exactly think through the rules, but I suppose fair is fair. “Okay, ask away.”
“Favorite movie?” he asks.
“Sixteen Candles,” I answer without hesitation.
He pauses, looking thoughtful as if he’s trying to remember which film it is.
“The one where they forget her birthday?”
I nod and blush. “It happened to me once. My parents are kind of all over the place, wanderers, hippies, that kind of thing, so they left Grant and me with my grandparents.”
“Is your birthday not in June? You’d think it would be easy for them to remember,” he asks.
“No, late August.” He looks as confused as everyone else does when they learn my name and subsequent birthday. “My parents are hippies and never really made much sense. Anyway, they forgot my birthday, which wasn’t a surprise because they were out in Utah or Washington or something on a retreat. My grandparents forgot too, because they were pretty old by then, and my brother is a boy, so he just…inherently forgot. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it because I’ve never liked to make a big fuss about things that are just for me. But a week later, my grandma remembered, and she was so upset. Anyway, every year after that, we watched that movie together on what she deemed to be my second birthday, a week after my real birthday. Until she died, I’d get two presents every year, one on my real birthday, the other on my second birthday.” I smile at the sweet memory, one that could have been negative, with the burn of a forgotten milestone, yet became anything but.
“Sounds… nice, strangely enough. I don’t think I ever got more than a card with ten bucks in it from my grandparents as a kid.”
“They were the best. They raised us and were the coolest, kindest people I’ve ever met,” I say with a smile. I open my mouth to ask another question, but my phone buzzes beside me, stealing my attention. I groan aloud when I read the message on my screen. “Dammit.”
“Boyfriend?” Graham asks quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to share, I just...” I lift an eyebrow at him as a tiny hint of a blush burns across his cheeks. I smile, but put him out of his misery instead of teasing him more.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. Something I hope you already knew or at least assumed because… well…” Now it’s my turn for a blush to burn on my cheeks. Instead of digging myself a deeper hole, I shake my head and change the subject. “No, it’s just my friend bugging me about something,” I say with a sigh, deciding to ignore Claire’s text until after work.
“I thought that was the whole point of friends? That’s what you’ve been doing to me, isn’t it?”
“Is that you agreeing that we’re friends?” I ask with a lifted brow.
“Probably not. I feel like if we were friends, you’d be sharing whatever’s bothering you,” he challenges, one I feel compelled to rise to, but am not sure if I should. I mull on it as we sit in silence for a bit, and I reach into the bag and grab the last few of my chips. Their loud crunch silences my thoughts enough to build the courage to speak again, turning to him fully as I do.
“My friends are trying to convince me to open up a business. I’ve always pushed it aside, since teaching took up so much of my time, but now that I’mnotteaching, they’re pushing harder.” I don’t know why I’m telling Graham this, but as I do, a weight lifts from my shoulders. Maybe this is what I need: an unbiased, logical source to confirm that Claire and Lainey’s idea is silly.
“Oh? Maybe I could help. You know, businesses are kind of my thing,” he says, settling in, and I shake my head quickly, clarifying.
