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“Sorry,” she says suddenly. “I guess I’m just super picky with gifts. Next time you want to buy me something, ask me in advance, okay?”
“Okay. But wouldn’t that ruin the surprise?”
“I don’t really like surprises that much.”
“Oh.”
My stomach has plummeted to my knees. I know I’m being sensitive, and it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just…
I don’t know. I was so happy, making the bracelet on my bedroom floor, imagining how excited Cleo would be to receive it. Now I just feel dumb, like a silly child.
The front door of the apartment opens, and Cleo stands up. “That must be Lucas, right?”
“Yeah,” I say absently.
Cleo disappears through my bedroom door, and I stare at the gift bag left on my bed.
“Hey, Lucas!” comes Cleo’s voice from the living room. Since Gilly’s birthday, every time Cleo comes over — which has been every day this week after classes — she always talks a lot with Lucas. Sometimes, she convinces him to join us on the couch and watch a movie with us or play video games. Lucas usually agrees, though sometimes I catch him staring at where Cleo is sprawled over my lap with an annoyed expression on his face.
“Oh, hey,” Lucas replies. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad, yourself? Where have you just come from?”
“Volleyball.”
“Oh, duh, I should’ve guessed from what you’re wearing.”
“Charlie usually joins me, but he’s been ditching ever since he met you.”
“Of course. I’m way more interesting than volleyball.” A pause. “You must be hungry, right?”
“Starving. Why do you ask, are you gonna make me a meal?”
A tinkling laugh. “I’m not a cook. Actually, Charlie and I were just going to go out to a Japanese place for dinner. Do you want to join us?”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude on your date.”
“Don’t be silly, we’d love to have you. Come on, you know you want to.” There’s a teasing smile in her voice.
“Alright, alright,” Lucas says and laughs kind-heartedly. “Let me just get cleaned up.”
“Yay!”
A moment later, Cleo returns to my room, and I look up to meet her eyes.
“Lucas says he wants to join,” she tells me, her face shining with a smile. “That’s all good, right? I think the more the merrier.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
*
I don’t know how much sake I’ve had. The logical part of my brain knows I’ve probably had too much, but I don’t really care.
“Another,” Lucas says, raising his sake cup, which is shallow and made of black ceramic. I pour the alcohol into his cup and Cleo’s, and top mine up too. Our plates were taken long ago, and since then we’ve just been talking. Correction: Lucas and Cleo have been doing most of the talking. I’ve just been drinking and listening.
At least I don’t feel so low anymore. I never considered before how scary it is to tell the truth to someone you’re dating. Someone you care about, but don’t know well enough to know whether they’d hurt you.
I could’ve said, Cleo, I just want it to be the two of us. It’s a date for our one-month anniversary.
