Page 64 of Can We Just Be Happy Now?

“Hey, you two.” She beams brightly, and we both manage a half-ass smile. “The usual?”

“Yeah–” I start to say, but Sophie cuts me off.

“Actually, we’ll have chocolate, please. Thanks, Shirley.”

When the poodle skirt and its wearer are out of sight, I scrunch my eyebrows at the girl sitting across from me. “What was that about?”

“Just trying to show you I heard you. That I know we are just friends.”

“Friends don’t compromise on milkshake flavors?” I quirk one brow at her, not tracking her logic.

“I just want you to have what you want, Coop. And you want chocolate.” Her sad smile has no resentment or anger. Even if she’s never said the words, I know that she loves me. It’s just not enough right now.

I start to reach for her hand, but move them to my lap and keep them hostage under the table. “Thank you.”

“Soooo,” she says. “How’s this quarter going?”

Ugh. I slump into the hard red plastic booth seat. “I decided to take this computer graphics class, thinking I could help Dad with more high tech real estate advertisements and marketing and whatnot.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” She smiles more genuinely, propping her chin on her fist as she leans forward.

“In theory. But turns out, it’s not my strong suit. I’m barely passing and we’re already almost four weeks into the ten week quarter.”

“I can help you,” she offers.

“Aren’t you only taking gen ed classes your freshman year?”

“Yeah, but I have to take that class for my degree eventually. It doesn’t matter when I learn the material. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Soph. That would be really helpful.”

“You’re welcome.” Her eyes flash to Shirley and our shake as it’s set down between us.

“French toast is on the way to soak up that hangover you have written on your faces.” She chuckles as she walks away.

Sophie and I lean in for a sip from a thick red straw on either side of the glass milkshake cup out of habit. I pull back before we have some sort of romance movie moment and gently slide the shake closer to her. Jesus, this is awkward. But we’re going to have to push through this part at some point, so it might as well be today. “So, how’s your first year of college going?” I immediately wish I had asked a more specific question. Hopefully it's obvious I don’t want to hear about any part of it that involves another guy.

“Umm, it’s okay. Chastity and I have been working on our bucket list.”

Oh great, I’ve seen that list. Half of it involves partying and guys.

She continues so quickly it’s like she could see my stomach flip. “Mostly the non-crazy stuff. We’ve tried a lot of the local restaurants. Joined a few study groups and are doing well in school–despite all the partying she insists on.”

“Do you like to party?”

“Umm. It’s okay. I try to make the most of it when we do, although I feel like I don’t make the best decisions when I drink. But I’d rather do that than be at home.”

“Wait. What? Why?”

“Things with Dad have been . . . tense.”

“Because of . . .”

“I don’t know. You know how he is. He wants me to experience life, but he wants to control that experience. Mom has to remind him constantly that I’m old enough to make my own decisions, but he doesn’t listen. And he keeps . . .”

“He keeps what?”

“Nothing.”

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