Page 19 of A Thousand Second Chances

Chris isn’t so inclined. He spends the entire conversation sulking, his gaze alternating between exasperated looks directed at an oblivious Quinn and far more pointed glares thrown my way that leave me stammering. The fact that it’sChris, the guy I used to trust more than anyone in the world, who’s looking at me like he wishes I don’t exist makes me want to curl into a tiny ball until I disappear.

I send a silent prayer of thanks when the waitress arrives to take our orders, giving me an excuse to turn away and study my menu. Not that I really need to look. When it’s my turn, I order the same thing I always do—a diet pop and the lasagna special.

The waitress finishes her rounds and bustles off, bringing an end to my reprieve. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or saddened that Quinn’s been drawn into an argument with the girl to her right about a plot point on some television show I’ve never heard of. That leaves both me and Chris sitting there awkwardly. Tension chokes the space between us, and from the way his fingers clutch at his silverware, I’m half-convinced he’s contemplating murder by butter knife. The one time I let my eyes wander, I find Chris’ expression so cold and distant that a shiver runs down my back. I quickly jerk my eyes away and swallow.

Right—no more stolen glances.

The server returns with our drinks, and that at least gives me something to distract myself. I take a deep gulp of artificial sweetener that may or may not be carcinogenic and consider trying to strike up a conversation with the girl to my left. She seems nice enough—I think her name might be Kate—but she’s already deep into conversation with the guys sitting across from me. They all seem to know each other, and I chicken out of interrupting them. I’ve never been confident enough to insert myself like that—not like Chris. Being stuck here with me musthave thrown him off his game, though, because he seems as determined as I am to sit and stew in silence.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, and my knee bumps into Chris’. Blushing, I turn to mutter an apology, but before I can get a word out, he snarls, “Watch it, Wentworth! Don’t touch me!”

The utter disgust in his voice tears at me, and before I can fully process what I’m doing, I shove out of my seat and stride away. No one calls out or tries to stop me, which somehow makes my escape feel all the more anticlimactic and depressing. Of course, with my order already in, anyone who noticed my departure probably assumed I’m heading to the restroom.

When I reach the front of the restaurant, I hesitate. I gaze longingly at the glass doors leading out onto Main Street, then sigh and veer down the hall toward the bathrooms after all. I splash some cold water on my face by the sink and allow myself a moment to justbreathe.

I don’t know why I’m still so affected by Chris’ proximity. He’s not my boyfriend anymore. He’s made it quite clear he isn’t even myfriendanymore. This trip is supposed to be about my mom, not my ex. If I could survive the daily hospital trips and all those restless nights, I can get through one lousy dinner without suffering a complete mental breakdown.

When I feel marginally more like a human being, I dry my face off with some paper towels, walk out of the bathroom…and almost collide with Chris and Quinn in the hall. The sight is so unexpected—andsoon point for this horrendously awful day—that I can’t help but laugh.Touché, universe. Just when I think things can’t get any worse.

“Oh, there you are, Percy! Chris and I were looking for you.” Quinn shoves Chris forward. “Weren’t we, Chris?”

“I should’ve known that story you fed me about wanting to check out the paintings near the front was bullshit!” Chris glares between us.

“Oh, no, Idowant to look at them,” Quinn replies, gazing at the nearest picture. “There are some fun prints here. But that can wait. The two of you clearly need to talk, and since neither of you seems willing to take the first step toward reconciliation, I thought I might as well give you a gentle nudge.”

“If you want to talk to Percy so bad, be my guest.” Chris spins and stalks back toward our table.

Or at least, he tries to. Quinn grabs his arm, yanking him to a halt. Given how much bigger Chris is than her, he could probably break free of her grip if he wanted to. Instead, he sighs.

“Why do you care so much anyway? You don’t even know him.”

“I knowyou. And whateverthisis—” she gestures between the two of us “—it’s clearly a big deal. So, stop avoiding your problems and face them head-on. Trust me, it’s for your own good. See you back at the table!” With that, she skips away, leaving Chris and me standing awkwardly in the hall.

Neither of us looks at the other…but neither do we leave. Quinn must be important to him if her word alone is enough to get him to do something he obviously doesn’t want to do. As for my part, as much as Iwantto turn and flee into the night, something keeps my feet glued to the cheap carpet. Maybe it’s my own desperation to work things out. I’d tried to approach him that first night on the ferry to tell him about my mom only to be rebuffed. If he’s ready to hear what I have to say now, then I owe it to us both to get it off my chest.

I clear my throat, my words slightly breathless when they tumble out. “I swear I never meant to hurt you.”

Chris’ entire body goes even more rigid than it had been before. He still doesn’t look at me, staring at some spot on the hallway wall. When he doesn’t respond, I hesitantly continue.

“I’m sorry for how things ended with us. That—that was never what I wanted to happen. Or how I would’ve wanted it to go down.”

Chris barks a bitter laugh. “Really? What did youthinkwould happen when you ghosted me for weeks only to peace out the second we returned to campus?”

A faint hint of panic claws at my chest. This might be my only chance to say what I need to, to finally explain why I’d walked away, and I can’t squander it. “I…I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry for that. But I was going through a lot and—”

“And you think that somehow makes it all better?” He turns, his furious eyes locking onto my face. “We werebothgoing through a lot back then! That was sort of the whole point! But we were supposed to face it together, to have each other’s backs! I thought you lo—that you cared about me. Fuck, Perce, you were mybest friend!”

I bow my head. “You were my best friend, too,” I whisper.Far more than that. “I miss you, Chris.” I meet his eyes, my heart pounding with desperate hope. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be like this. Maybe this trip is a sign.”

Chris blinks, furrowing his brow. “A sign ofwhat?” he asks slowly. “What exactly is it you want from me, Percy?”

“I…I want to start over. I know it’s a lot to ask, but maybe we could try hanging out after we get back to campus. You know, bridge some of this distance between us. Even if we can’t be…us…maybe we can at least be friends again. Talk things through.”

God, the words had slipped out, not at all the apology or explanation I’d intended. But now that the idea is out there, it fills me with a wild sort of hope, and I realize how badly I yearn for that future. I’d gladly give up all the rest, any sort of deeper connection, if only we could laugh and hang out again. If I could only have my best friend back.

It takes Chris a long time to respond. Emotion gradually leeches from his face, leaving his expression unreadable. “Friends,” he says at last. “You want to befriends?”

I shift anxiously. Something in his tone seems off, but he hasn’t stormed off yet, so I cling fast to that seed of hope. “Y-yes. If that’s something you—”