Page 63 of Again, In Autumn

We’re quiet a moment. I say, “I felt like I was in the middle of something back there.”

“And I felt like the glue holding it together,” he groans.

I smile at someone dancing beside us who keeps staring at Adam in obvious recognition and wonder, “Was that some decades old family feud coming to light?”

“Trust me, if I hadn’t walked away, there would have been choreographed dancing, snapping. It would have gotten ugly.”

The lights above us turn pink. I wonder how long we have to keep this up, when we can call it quits and return to our corners. Adam doesn’t make any moves.

“How’s your leg?” he says. His face turns to regret. “I already asked you that.”

“Yeah.”

He turns our grasped hands and opens them. “That’s a nice unicorn Band-Aid.”

“Alice would only part with one.” I sigh. “I decided it should be visible to the rest of the world, seeing as the unicorn is vomiting rainbows.”

“I thought they poop rainbows?”

“You think about unicorns a lot?”

“Well.” He shrugs. “The Roman Empire. Unicorns. A man’s gotta think.”

He flickers his eyes to mine and his lips slam together to stop from smirking. It makes me lightheaded, when we find each other through the haze of everything else. That, or the bourbon.

Back at the table, his sister holds her phone up in our direction, a clear and obvious sign of amateur photography.

So, I comment, “You and Maggie seem close.”

“Uh, yeah. We are.”

“She’s still eyeballing us.”

He turns around and wheels us further into the crowd of couples. “Then let’s not give her the satisfaction.”

I observe Maggie smiling and pointing at us, smacking Diego on the shoulder and encouraging him to look as well. The unspoken context of she and Adam’s disagreement finally fits together. The clouds part and a giant lightbulb drops down from the sky.

I freeze. “Oh my God. Does she know?” I turn my face to him.

Adam finally dips his chin toward mine. “…know what?”

“About that summer?” I say. “About us?”

Adam squints painfully. “Oh that. Well, kinda, yeah.”

I pull myself a half inch closer toward him. “Kinda? How much kinda?”

“Like…” He turns his head and releases stream of hot air. “The whole thing.”

My jaw drops. A carousel of secrets she might know rolls through my head. I mutter, “The sneaking out and the tree house and the -”

He stares sharply to see where I go next.

I won’t go there. I shake out the memories and demand, “What happened to keeping it a secret?”

“Well,” he begins, taking a bite of our distance. “That was a fourteen-year-old pact and I never signed anything in blood. Besides, Maggie didn’t know you guys. I figured it was safe. And then…that changed.”

“The fish bowl,” I say.

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