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“You can handle serious topics when it’s not about you or what you can do, so why can’t you be serious when you’re in the spotlight?” Andrew took another slow bite, closing his eyes and humming low. This time, I watched him. His enjoyment of food surpassed almost everything else, including his love of frowning.
I grimaced and turned to face front. I played with the edges of my carton with my spoon. “Maybe if my photography isn’t accepted by these companies, it means something.” I tapped my spoon against the carton. “Or maybe I need to do something differently. Or maybe I should stop submitting my work.” Andrew frowned but I held my hand up to stop his protests. “Sometimes, it’s not about what the right thing to do is, but what people will accept.” I sighed. “We can’t all be a zealot for truth like you, Andrew.”
He turned toward me with a frown. “So you’d rather do nothing, then?”
I shrugged. “I’m not doing nothing,” I said. “I’m still taking photos. I’m still submitting my work. But I have a good job. Michael makes enough to support us both anyway. What, exactly, is my purpose of submitting these photos?”
Andrew thought about this for a moment, shoveling spoonful after spoonful of ice cream into his waiting mouth. Finally, he said, “Maybe we should talk about something else. In the interest of keeping the peace.”
I nodded. “Agreed.”
We sat in silence for a moment before Andrew spoke again. “So, tell me more about your fiancé. What’s his name again?”
“Michael.”
“Michael, then. Tell me more about Michael.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say. He’s a little younger than us, only by a couple of years. Still in college, his last year.” Andrew smirked, and I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I still date younger men.”
“There was only one exception.”
We looked away from each other. Neither of us wanted to speak his name aloud, but Nicholas was the one mistake in my dating history that neither of us could forget. After all, it led to the demise of our friendship.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, Michael’s a football player through and through. He’s in line to be the starting running back on his college team. He also manages a branch of his family’s clothing store, Clothing Line downtown. He’s going to school to get his degree in Management and Finance.”
Andrew whistled low. “Sounds like your parents’ dream guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, and he’s white to boot. They love him more than me.”
Andrew tilted his head. “Yeah?”
I sighed into my ice cream. “Well, not really,” I conceded. “Or at least, that’s what I try to tell myself.” I turned to him then, remembering. “Speaking of parents, how are yours?”
Andrew smiled to himself. “They’re good. They’ll be happy that you and I decided to kiss and make up, as it were.”
My brows snapped together. “Why’s that?”
Andrew squinted, looking off into the distance, then looked down at his hands. “It was a tough two years. My parents were convinced that it all started when you and I stopped being friends.”
I grimaced. “Well, I did keep you honest. And trapped in the real world.”
He turned to me with that look of defiance. “No, not trapped,” he said. “Anchored. Grounded.” His eyes softened then. “I missed that, Ace. I missed you. Truly.”
“Yeah?” I smiled a little. “I wasn’t a wet blanket on your rainbow dreams?”
“Never.”
“Never? Lies.”
“Okay, maybe once or twice.” I raised an eyebrow. “A few times.”
I laughed and patted his thigh. “I’ll take it. Nobody wants to be a perpetual Debbie Downer.”
He smiled. “Truth.” He looked at his watch and grimaced. “I probably shouldn’t keep you much longer. It’s getting late.”
I looked at my phone and sighed. Three missed calls from Mother, a voicemail, and a text from Michael. Home yet? it said. Your mom’s been blowing up my phone.
“Yeah, I gotta go.” I rolled my eyes and showed him my phone. “Mother awaits.”
