Page 56 of Secret Love

I stretch out on the couch and Earl comes over. He’s grown so much. I reach out and pick him up and he kneads my stomach before curling up and falling asleep there.

“You should see Earl right now.” I snap a picture and send it to him.

“I wish I was Earl.”

“I think I prefer your non-furry massive self, but?—”

“Not what I meant and you know it.”

I laugh.

When he says things like this, I usually tease him back, but I love every second of it.

“Okay, number one question of the day,” he says. “When did you first learn to roller-skate? Or Rollerblade?”

“You assume I’ve roller-skated.”

“Oh, have you never?”

“No, I have. I'm just teasing. But, um, I was probably eleven. How old were you?”

“Three.”

“No way. What, you could barely walk and you were put in skates?”

“Blades, actually, and yes…I had to follow my big brother and he liked to skate. I wasn't very good at it at first, but eventually I could Rollerblade circles around him. It was great.”

“Do you still Rollerblade?” I can barely get the words out because the thought of him on Rollerblades makes me laugh.

“What? You find this hilarious?”

“I’m trying to picture you on Rollerblades and it's really hard. You're massive. I feel like that doesn't work.”

“You think massive people can’t skate?”

“No. Just, I feel like you would topple over.” I start laughing again.

“Trust me, I do not topple over. Hockey players are large, you know.” He’s laughing now too.

“Right. As you can see, I don’t often think of sports in my logic. I need to learn.”

“Growing up, were there any sports you liked to play?”

“I liked volleyball and tennis.”

He hums appreciatively. “I can picture that.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling so big.

“So, I have a problem with you,” he says.

My smile drops. “You do?”

“Yes. Mondays through Wednesdays, I get to see you at the house, and it’s torturous, not getting to touch you, but I at least get to see you. And then Thursdays and Fridays, there’s this vast void in my life.”

I laugh. “I always thought I was the dramatic one in any friendship.”

“Are we friends, Tru?” His voice is husky but playful. “Because friends see each other on Thursdays and Fridays. And for longer than mere minutes on Saturdays,” he adds. “It’s like a tease to see you high-fiving everyone but me on Saturday mornings. And then again, the void on Sundays.”

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