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A car rushes past, screeching down the empty road only to be stopped by traffic lights at the end of the road. They were going way too fast for city driving, easily forty in a twenty zone. I wouldn’t be surprised if they got into an accident. Rushing around like that is just asking for trouble. This city is too fast all the time. I think it’s time for a change of pace.
“Come on,” I say, shaking my body a little to try and brush away the blizzard of thoughts settling on me. “The park’s not far from here. Let’s sit and eat there.”
CHAPTER15
JOEL
Park benches are way less comfortable when you’re sober and sitting on them properly. Most of my experience with park benches has been throwing up on them, or jumping over them, or — on one occasion which is devastatingly fuzzy in my mind — committing acts of gross public indecency on them.
It was dark. She was hot. No one got arrested. Good old-fashioned fun in my book.
This is kind of fun too, though. Dozens of pigeons have gathered around us, scrabbling about on the frosty gravel for crumbs, shifting stones around with their beaks. They’re closing in on us, cooing and flapping like it’s a threat. I pull my feet under the bench for safety.
“You were right,” I say, breaking the silence. Anna hums a question and I lift the gelato tub in answer. “This is really good.”
“Uh-huh.” She’s smug about it, and she’s right to be. It’s so creamy and flavorful, and the hot chocolate is that perfect balance of comforting and sweet.
“Still can’t tell the difference between this and ice cream, though.”
“It’s the texture!” she exclaims, rolling her eyes hard at me. I’m winding her up on purpose, but the face she makes when she’s mad with me is cute. At least, the face when she’s fake mad with me is. She got genuinely mad in the café and that face wasn’t cute at all.
It didn’t feel like a big deal to me, but I guess I can understand why she was upset. Money doesn’t matter to me, but it does to a lot of people. And most people don’t like to look like charity cases.
How can I begin to explain how much more than that she is to me?
“Whatever,” I say instead of something heartfelt.
The birds hover around us, their beady eyes staring up at us. “You won’t like this,” Anna says to one of them. “I promise. Go find someone with fries.”
Almost on cue, something startles one of the pigeons and it spreads its wings and takes off. A mass liftoff ensues, the birds launching into the air in a great swarm of feathers and beaks and feet.
Anna yelps at the sudden movement and leans into me. I think she’s just trying to hide but instinctively I reach out and cover her head, my hand hovering just above her hair, just close enough to feel the strands brush against my palm. Once the danger passes, she sits straight back up, adjusting as if to pretend it never happened.
I want to say something, but I can’t quite figure out what. I’ve never needed to share an emotion as real as this.
Anna speaks instead. “You know, everyone says you’re a dick.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
She shakes her head vigorously. “No, wait, I mean, everyone says that but like, it’s not true.”
“Oh?” I’m surprised to hear her say that. She’s been blowing so hot and cold with me that I was starting to think her liking me even as a friend was just in my head. Hearing her say that I was earlier made my heart grow a million times bigger.
“No. It’s not. You’re an idiot—”
“Thanks!”
“But, you’re also kind.” She gazes out into the park, at the scattering of trees along the main path, unable to look at me as she opens her own heart.
I’m pretty proud of the fact that I always have something smart-assed to say for every single situation. Not this time. I feel like I’ve fallen on the floor and had a lamp thrown at me all over again.
She stumbles over what she’s trying to say, rambling nervously. I want to tell her she has no need to be nervous, but I can’t make my voice work. “Like, you’re annoying and full of yourself, but I don’t think that’s the real you. It’s like you’re wearing a mask, and every time anyone looks at you, you do this dance because you’re wearing this mask, and that’s what everyone sees. That’s what the papers write about.”
I nod slowly. How has she cut so close to the core of me?
“You’re lucky,” I say, taking a swig of my hot chocolate like it’s whiskey. It’s giving me that kind of strength. “You come from a family of love and hard work.”
Anna snorts, almost choking on her gelato, her eyes popping wide open in amusement or shock. “Yeah, something like that.”
