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“Does your roommate know?”
“She does. And Campbell. And Tenley. But no one else. If you see anyone you know around town, please keep the news to yourself.” She lifts a forkful of her risotto to her mouth, pausing. “I’m sorry about your parents. When was the last time you talked to them?”
“I spoke to my dad when I first moved up here. My mom, I never know where she is. She called me a few months ago.” But that’s not something I want to talk about, so I motion to her fork. “How is it?”
“Divine,” she says. “Was that not obvious by the fact that I inhaled the first serving?”
I chuckle. “Just thought you were hungry.”
There’s a moment of awkwardness, where we both end up concentrating on our food, until I think of something bright to say. “How was work?”
“How is work, ever? It was bad. But made even worse because I can’t even think. I feel like such a space cadet. I keep forgetting orders and tripping over my own two feet.”
I ask her more questions, trying to get her to open up to me as to why she’s closed off, but she yawns throughout. I can tell she’s beat, so I don’t press her to stay for deep conversation, a movie, or whatever ideas I had funneling through my head. Tonight isn’t about that, anyway. As much as I want it to be, I’ve decided that I’m going to be on my best behavior and just let her dictate how this goes.
My pace is obviously much faster than hers. If it were up to me, I’d have put a ring on her finger yesterday and figured the rest out later. But we’ll go at her speed. The last thing I want to do is pressure her and back her into a corner. Nothing good can come from that, especially given our past.
When we’re done eating, she looks like she’s about to fall asleep at the table.
I say, “Well, you should get to bed.”
She waves me off. “I’m fine. I’ll help with the dishes.”
“I got it.” I grab her coat and hold it out for her to slip into. “Let’s get you home.”
“I’m not helpless.”
“Never said you were.”
She shuffles to the door, following me as I open it for her.
She pauses there. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Yep. Come on.” I walk her the twenty steps to her door.
She seems confused by this. “Do you think I’m so drunk off your risotto that I might get lost or something?”
“No. Just making sure you get there safe. There are some slick spots.”
She looks around. “The ice has melted. There’s no one around. Exactly what were you expecting? Rogue aliens coming down from the sky and attacking me?”
“Listen, you work in an ER and tell me stranger things haven’t happened.”
The truth is I want to be a gentleman. I want to be the guy she doesn’t think I can be. The kind of guy who’d never think to send a Yours Cruelly message, even just as a joke. The kind of guy who’d never stand her up for homecoming, even if his intentions were secretly good.
We’re in front of her door now. It’s still dark inside—her roommate probably isn’t home. Stassi steps onto the stoop and grabs her key from her pocket. “Okay …”
“See you tomorrow?” I back away. Whatever the opposite of coming on strong is? I’ve got to do that.
She turns a little, surprise mingling with relief on her face. I think she was expecting me to go in for the kiss.
“Sounds good.” She makes for the door, but then stops. “Is this because I smell like Italian dressing?”
I turn and walk back to my place, tossing over my shoulder, “Yeah, I prefer French.”
26
Stassi
The morning after my weird meal with Alec, it starts.
One minute, I’m dead to the world, sleeping deeper than I ever have in my life—the kind of sleep where you wake up and wonder where you are and what day it is. The next minute I’m crouched on the bathroom floor, puking my guts out.
It’s mostly bile, but a little bit of risotto. I’d lied to Alec—I hate to tell my mom, but his risotto was better than any dish I’d had in my life. Unfortunately, it doesn’t taste nearly as good coming up.
I go to the sink and wipe my mouth, examining my face in the mirror. I look like I’ve been through a war. My eyes are sunken and dull and my face has a green tinge to it. Cupping my hand under the faucet, I suck down some water, rinsing my mouth and feeling a bit better.
Only a second later, I’m kneeling at the porcelain throne again.
This time, I think I might actually lose my entire stomach.
When it’s over, I’m too exhausted to do much of anything else, so I lie on the bedroom floor. I must fall asleep for a few minutes, because the next thing I know Mad is standing over me like an angel bearing a sleeve of saltines.
