Page 59 of Old Acquaintances

We sit in the living room, at the large round coffee table. I’m the only one sitting on the floor, everyone else is relaxed in the soft couches, the fish-shaped pillows on the ground.

“Uno!” I shout, holding my card in the air.

Wyatt doubles over in laughter, his cheeks pink from alcohol. “Ells, we’re playing Gin Rummy! That’s not even an Uno card!”

“I’m not good at card games,” I say. “I want to play Uno.”

“You can’t play Uno with a normal deck.”

“Don’t hold me back, Wyatt,” I grumble, digging into the boxes of games stacked under the coffee table. I whip out a bag. “Dominoes?”

He asks, “Where are all of your cards?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, I think I left some in the kitchen.”

I rub my hands along the sides of my arms, feeling the chill of the air conditioner on my exposed skin. After I changed from my bathing suit, I put on a shorts and cropped tank lounge set. In my excitement to get out of the cold, I didn’t pack anything cozy or warm.

Ritchie sets his beer back on the table. “Where’s Tuck?”

I fan myself with the Ace of Hearts. I’m determined not to care about him or give thought to our past. After he apologized - if that’s even the right word - I changed my clothes and keptmy distance. I bumped his arm on purpose in passing. I stole his beer. I picked the avocado off his tacos. I’ve avoided him before, I can do it again, but I’d like to piss him off a little in the process. He’s been invisible to me for seven years, what’s a lifetime more?

“Probably going through my things,” I answer. “Like a stalker.”

Johnny calls out, “Ella, if we open this bottle of red wine, do you want some?”

“Yes.” I glance at my liquor and beer-drinking friends. “Who drinks red -” I gasp. I call out, “Jen, do you drink red wine?”

She comes into the room with a glass for both of us.

“We’re going to be such good friends,” I say with a smile.

She looks tentatively at my bare midriff, still in her sundress, and perches politely on the couch. She’s probably thinking of how I described my past interactions with Tucker asgraphic.

I have a fair bit of winning her over to do.

Callie drops her cards on the table. “I’m bored of this game, too, let’s play Bullshit.” She collects everyone’s cards as we play, and Johnny comes back in with the collection I lost when I was hovering over a box of cookies.

“Ella doesn’t want to play that game with me,” Tucker says, shuffling into the room. “Because I can read her like a book.”

We lock eyes as he peels off his gray Clemson sweatshirt. He tosses it into my lap, sitting on the ground next to me. He leans back on a straight arm and reaches out to touch my elbow, adding, “Inbraille.”

“Don’t touch me,” I snap. I hold out his sweatshirt. “And what’s this for? Do you want me to cover my body up again? Hm? Am I making you uncomfortable,again?”

He blinks. “You’re cold.”

I hold the worn sweatshirt, tugged into a silent exchange.His eyes stare at me, telling me exactly what he just said: he knows me too well. I wonder how long he spent watching me run my hands down my arms, or if I had some other tell-tale sign of being cold.

Wordlessly, I tug the sweatshirt over my head. It’s warm, it smells like him. I pull my hair out from the collar and sweep all of it to my right shoulder. Serena divides up the cards and everyone explains the rules to Jen. I see Tucker still looking at me.

“What?” I demand.

He shakes his head.

Wyatt goes back to the kitchen and says, “Tuck, you need another drink, man?”

“No,” he replies. “I’ve met my quota for the day.”

“You think you’re better than us?” I take a sip of my wine.

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