Page 28 of Up In Flames

“You did?”

I nod. “I did, but honestly, I wasn’t like most guys at that age. I wouldn’t have known what to do with a girl if she jumped into my bed and handed me an instruction pamphlet. I was still in my white knight phase. You would have been safe with me. Probably bored, but safe.”

She inches closer on the sofa. “I never knew that. The crush, I mean. We could have dated?”

I give her a small smile. “I thought if you knew, you’d laugh me right out of school. If you rejected me, all the kids would know that a senior had been sent packing my a junior. Not very good for my image, you know? But I had these dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?”

“Oh, the ‘normal’ kind.” I use air-quotes around the word. “We’d hang out and talk about philosophy. I’d regale you with tales of King Arthur, and you’d tell me about those paranormal romances you were always reading. Maybe we’d kiss after the fifth date, but it wouldn’t go any further than that. We’d write each other while we were in colleges far apart, but we’d get together afterward, get married, have children.”

Right. That might be too much information, judging by how her brows are touching her hairline.

“And I’d save you from a snake while we picnicked on Grandfather Mountain,” I add in a hurry. “That was a perennial favorite in my daydream world.”

“Snake?” Her smile grows so bright, it’s nearly painful.

I shrug again. “Yeah, well, it was the best hero routine I could think of at the time.”

“Was there… did you date anyone else? In high school, I mean?”

“No.” But the word is slow to come. “I was a really late bloomer. There wasn’t a point in high school where I thought I could have handled a girl, even in the most innocent of ways, and I was right. It was one more reason I never said anything to you about liking you. I came into my own in college, with a vengeance, but before that… no. It just wasn’t who I was. I knew myself well enough to know that I needed more time to bake, though I imagined a whole life with you.”

She shuffles another inch closer and lays her hand so that the tips of her fingers nearly brush against my thigh. “You liked me.”

“I wanted to marry you. Someday. In some abstract kind of way, without ever having even spoken to you, by the way.” I shake my head and offer her a rueful smile.

“That must have really sucked, then, finding me almost naked with two guys, and with no apparent interest in you.” Her voice is soft with sympathy.

And that’s why I had a crush on her at one time: she’s kind. Inside, she’s sweet and loving. An angel. Sharp and funny on the outside, kind on the inside. Is it any wonder that I crushed so hard?

Weirdly, I forgot about her positive attributes while I was blaming her for fucking every guy in high school except me.

“Picture an angel falling. The whole world sat wrong inside me after that.”

Her fingers finally do brush my thigh. Fire lights up through my veins. “I’m sorry, Sampson. I’m sorry you found me like that, and I’m sorry that I broke all your pretty notions.”

“You did, but I suppose it prepared me for reality.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sex. Its grittiness. Its intensity. Seeing you with those guys punctured this 1950s sitcom image I had of romantic love. And by college, I was ready to jump into the deep end of the swimming pool. I’ve been swimming ever since. Often, and in various different ways, in case you’re wondering.” I hold her gaze as I stress the last words.

“I’m not.” But she blushes to the shade of ripe apples. “I’m so sorry, Sampson. I’m so sorry that I made you feel different. Less than.”

“And I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. Not once in all these years have I considered that you hated me for a reason.”

“What did you think?”

“That you were crazy?”

She laughs. “For a little while, maybe I was. But I guess we both grew into real people, and look at us now, having a conversation that would have changed years of animosity into…”

I catch my breath, but she doesn’t continue. She just gives me a little smile and shakes her head, dragging her fingers back up to her glass, and leaving me empty.

I suddenly laugh. “We’re a screwed-up pair, but there’s no denying that we’re made for each other.”

“Whoa.” She’s off the couch and halfway across the floor before I finish the last word. “Are you nuts? I thought you left fantasy behind. We’re enemies, Sampson. Or… maybe not now, but… something like it?” She circles her hand through the air before clenching it to her. “Right?”