Page 6 of Hooking Her Up

“Uh, because… well, why not?”

“You clearly hate it.”

Wait, what? He saw through my carefully crafted front? The one I’ve been holding up since my dad decided that was the most useful degree to get into his own firm one day?

“I…” I can’t pretend anymore. “I do hate it,” I admit, and we both laugh.

The server brings us our food, but is back by the counter when Liam calls to him that he forgot the red pepper flakes. The high school kid grins and wraps a few packets in a napkin and gets in a throwing stance. Liam jumps up and catches it as it wings toward us.

“How come you stopped playing football?” I ask, remembering how talented he was.

“How’d you even know I played? You were still in middle school when I was on the team.”

Since I can’t admit I used to have a massive crush on him, I throw Lily under the bus. “My best friend is obsessed with sports and used to make me go to all the games, even junior varsity ones.” Only the JV ones, and only because you were the quarterback and I could stare at you running like a god without anyone noticing. “You were really good. Everyone said so. You probably would have been a star if you kept going.”

“My dad got sick the summer before my sophomore year. I had to help out around the garage. He passed away right before I graduated.”

I will him to look up, but he’s focused on his pizza slice. “I’m really sorry.” With all my stalking I never knew something so important. I put my hand over his and he turns it so our palms touch.

“I wanted to drop out and work. School seemed like a waste of time and I was determined not to have to close the shop. But he was just as determined to see me graduate.” His fingers curl around mine, his eyes still cast down. “I was so pissed off when he went two weeks before the ceremony that I almost skipped it. But…”

“He was there. He knew,” I fill in when he pauses.

His slow smile melts me and he squeezes my hand. “Yeah, I think so too. I sold our old place and got the truck, and I do some repairs at my place now, too. It’s still a grind to stay ahead but I do all right.”

“That’s really amazing,” I tell him. “It’s probably not so bad because it’s what you really want, right?” For some reason I have to know that Liam is happy. That someone in this world can live the life they want.

“Sure, I guess. I’ve always loved helping people and fixing things. Banging out dents.” He pauses, pulling his hand away as if he’s just realized we’re still holding onto each other. I try not to look as disappointed as I feel. “What? What’s that face for?”

“I’m just really glad everything came together for you. I’m glad you were the one who got me out of the ditch.” If only he could get me out of the bigger ditch that is my life. But that chasm is probably impassable and I’m in too deep.

We get caught in each other’s eyes for a moment that I wouldn’t mind lasting longer, but he nudges my plate. “Eat up and then I’ll show you how to play this game.” He reaches around and taps the pinball machine.

“As if you can teach me anything about that,” I scoff. “I used to have a high score on that thing.”

“We’ll see.” He gets up to refill our drinks and I remember I still haven’t let my parents know I got sidelined. I don’t want my mom to worry but I really don’t want my dad to get on the phone and order me to get my butt home. As if he can even control the weather. I glance gratefully at the rain outside and text my mom that I’m fine, just had to get towed into town and will get a ride as soon as the storm lets up.

With that weight off my shoulders, I put my phone away so I don’t notice when she answers me with more questions. Liam and I scarf down our pizza and then we pool our cash to get a bunch of quarters. It’s time to settle who’s better at the Monster Island pinball game that’s been here as long as I remember.

We both play a side and end up bumping into each other as we furiously send the metal ball pinging up and down the board. He wins three in a row, but I come back with a vengeance for the next two. We’re jumping up and down, high fiving each other, and cracking up as we shit-talk each other.

“Hey,” he says before we start up another game. He turns me to face him and rests his hands on my shoulders. His eyes are shining and I lean closer. Looking up at him, all I can feel is the happiness of the moment. I’m having fun. Real fun, no striving necessary.

“What?” I asked, shaken by my realization. I don’t want this evening to end.

“Let’s stop competing against each other and wipe the top scores.” He points to the scoreboard and the top three places are taken by the same initials. “I’ve seen the kid in here and he’s a real demon.”

“You want to beat a little kid’s hard work?” I ask, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

He nods. “That kid, yeah. And then I’m going to come in here on one of the days he’s terrorizing the place and watch his smug little face fall.”

“You’re awful,” I say, but the laughter breaks free.

“You’ll have to come with me. You’ll see it’s a righteous victory.”

I solemnly drop in a quarter. “Let’s do this, then.”

It doesn’t take much to get second and third place, but we have to go back for more quarters to keep fighting for first. We stand next to each other like we’re on the frontlines, facing an enemy together. When we surpass first place by over a hundred points, we holler and fling ourselves together with abandon.

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