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There’s no resentment or anger in his tone, only a wry sort of amusement that makes him sound far older than he is.
“It didn’t feel like a fair thing to do.”
“Making us both endure this party alone is unfair.”
“I specifically advised you to ask someone else.”
“And I specifically told you I only ever intended to ask you.”
I give him an unimpressed look, which I’m sure he can see about as much as I can see his expression—hardly at all.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t have options. I know you and your friends are the most popular boys in our year.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t have options. I didn’t need options. I made a choice and that choice was you. That’s all.”
“Why me?”
He laughs again, this time soft and mischievous.
“Who’s fishing for compliments now, Theodora?”
My cheeks flush with heat, and I’m thankful for the cover of darkness. “I don’t place value in flattery.”
“A compliment isn’t the same as flattery.”
“What if I told you there’s no need for either if you just answer the truth?”
“I like the truth,” he says. “It has this nice, clean, stark quality to it. But sometimes, speaking truthfully and speaking the truth don’t mean the same thing.”
“That’s a nothing sentence—you love those.”
He leans closer as if trying to peer into my eyes even through the darkness. I don’t move back, refusing to retreat.
“A nothing sentence?” he repeats.
“A sentence where it sounds like you’re saying something meaningful, but you’re not actually saying anything at all.”
“I’ve never spoken such a sentence in my life.”
“You use them all the time when debating. It’s your signature style. Every time your team loses, it’s because you’ve used one, and I’ve pointed it out to my team.”
There’s a moment of silence that spins and glimmers like a cosmos between us. It’s not uncomfortable or awkward. It’s not even hostile. It’s like intimacy but without affection.
“How’s your team going to win next year?” he asks in a light tone. “Now you’re about to lose your secret weapon.”
“I’ll just have to find a new weakness of yours to exploit.”
“You’ll struggle to find one.” I can almost hear the arrogant smile on his mouth. “You might wish to consider beating me fair and square with strong arguments and clear logic.”
“I’ll do that too, don’t worry.”
He lets out a sigh that turns into a laugh, and I laugh too. The summer night air is cooler, and a plume of wind brushes against me, making me shiver. Zachary crumples the now-empty paper plates and stands to throw them into a nearby bin.
When he’s done, he returns to the bench and stands in front of me, reaching his hand out to me.
“Shall we go back in?”
“Alright.”
