Page 81 of Old Acquaintances

I step under the water and wonder if I last night’s events should have happened. We kissed, I know that, and I couldn’t have avoided it. It would have drawn more attention if I didn’t kiss him. Friends engaging in a silly game of Spin the Bottle wouldn’t make a fuss. I kissed Ritchie. He kissed Serena.

But when Tucker took my face and pulled it into his, I saw stars. The kind of euphoria you get when you win the lottery or when I’m having a particularly good dance day. When my muscles are warm and my balance is on point and I turn more than four rotations in a pirouette. Spinning on an axis. The feeling that the universe beyond me could crumble and I’d still remain, turning infinitely, both in and out of control.

In that state, I could have done orsaidsomething else. Something I shouldn’t say.

From the moment I woke from the coma, throughout the first few months of my recovery, I had the most gut-wrenching series of thoughts. They concerned partners, love, future, Tucker. I felt it, even when he didn’t show up, and I pushed it backbecausehe didn’t show up.

I notice the spot on the floor where he brushed my teeth last night and I made a series of nonsense statements.

I hope I didn’t tell him how I really felt.

Tipping my head to the water, feeling the heat sting my skin, I notice a blur behind me.

“Tucker!” I screech.

Oh my God, what is happening? I’ve summoned him into the bathroom from thought alone.

On the other side of the glass shower door, he stands in front of the toilet, wide-eyed and grimacing. “I’m sorry! I forgot this bathroom didn’t have a shower curtain.”

“Get out!” I cross my arms over my chest.

“I can’t just stop peeing midstream.”

I turn to face the wall. “You could at least look away.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Calm down, Ella.” I listen to him at the sink. “I’m not looking at you.” He turns the water off. “If I wanted to see you naked, all I would have to do isremember.”

When he’s out of the bathroom, I realize I have made a mistake.

There’s no tiptoeing around our intimacies when the strings are left untied. I wouldn’t have clawed at his penis last night if we didn’t kiss. He wouldn’t have had to barricade himself into safety. I wouldn’t feel hot knowing he could imagine my naked body whenever he wanted.

Please, please, don’t let me have told him.

Out of the shower, I change into a simple midi dress, popping Tucker’s sweatshirt over it as I walk out of the door.

“That smell,” I comment.

Callie and Wyatt sit at the kitchen table on their phones. Serena slides the coffee pot out. “Tucker made you afternoon coffee.”

“How did you know I like Benny’s Coffee?” I take the cup she offers.

“I didn’t bring this, Tucker brought it.”

“He doesn’t drink coffee. And this is my favorite roast. It’s from home.”

She says, “I don’t know what to tell you.” She slides a plate. “He also made you breakfast. He called it -”

“Waffles a la Ella.” Two frozen waffles with chocolate chips in the middle, chunks of butter on top, drizzled with maple syrup. Banana on the side.

Callie chimes in, “He gave me a very specific grocery list of foods to get for you.”

“Why?” I take my breakfast and coffee and sit at the table. “Why is he packing my favorite coffee and making me food?”

“He’s just doing what he does best,” Serena replies. “Taking care of you. He knows you wouldn’t ask for anything specific but it’s your birthday, you should have the most perfect vacation.”

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