Page 95 of Old Acquaintances

“Fuck off.” He absently combs his hand against the scalpabove my ear. His fingertips twist, feeling the texture of my strands, his eyes clouded. He suddenly stops. “Sorry. Old habits.” His hand falls.

I breathe through the burn of his touch and add, “I’ve been rereading books I loved when I was a kid. Do you rememberHatchet? AndMy Side of the Mountain? I loved those books. I wanted to live off the land.”

“You wanted to be able to run around naked.”

“But I like indoor plumbing too much.”

“And you don’t know the first thing about raising chickens or milking a cow.” He sticks his bottom lip out, mock pity.

I straighten up. “That’s the easy part. I could figure that out. Homeschooled children all over Instagram are tending the farm for their exploitative parents. If little Jeremiah Joseph can do it, so can I.”

Tucker lowers his chin. “You don’t know the first thing about crunchy, organic living. I, however, could easily milk a cow. I’ll just, uh, need some practice.” He winks.

“Gross.” I clasp my hands in my lap. My arms tighten to my body. “Is this enough, now? Are you satisfied that we’ve not been silent long enough for things to be weird between us?”

He says, “That was only three things. And I just want to get to a place where you don’t hate me.”

“Why do you care if I hate you?”

“The baby.”

“Liar.”

Tucker’s arm hangs on the back of my chair. Everything is different now. He’s not flirting with me because he can’t control his boyishness and he’s not joking around because we find it easy in each other’s company. He’s asking me to be some girl he once knew. To be a member of his extended family whom he can pat on the back at holidays and say,Ya good? How’s life treating you these days?

He won’t pick me up and swing me around and ask to kiss me. I’ll have my birthday and he will have his. Maybe he’ll send me a text that one time a year. He’ll have a story about how he used to share a birthday with this girl he grew up with –she was fucking annoying.

“Ell?” Tucker prompts. “I just want you to be okay. I want you happy. I want to know that you’re safe and that you can take care of yourself and that you’re loved.” He closes his eyes on that last word. “I’m okay with you hating me as long as you have all of that.”

He opens his eyes and inches closer. “So, are you okay?”

No. I’m not okay. Because I lovehim.

I’m in love with him.

It’s there and it’s always been there.

It’s all I thought about when I begged for him in the hospital, like I’d finally figured it out and I couldn’t wait to tell him. I loved him and I knew he loved me, and I knew he would come. I knew it.

I never had to yearn for Tucker to grab me and warm me with his touch because he always did it, he was always one step ahead, but his hand doesn’t inch any more toward mine. I finallywantfrom him. I’ve never wanted before. I’ve always had. I don’t hate him. I’m mad at him because I love him.

And it’s only over been a joke to him.

I sniffle and wipe my eyes before anything falls. My voice is less easy to measure. “Are you…are you over it?” I beg.

He searches my face. “Over what?”

My shoulders cave in. He starts growing distant. I say, “Me.This. Whatever it is between us.”

Tucker pulls his arm in, setting his hands in his lap.

I ask, “Is that why you never reached out? You just didn’t want me anymore?”

“No, Ella,” he says quickly. “Me wanting you back then, itdidn’t just go away on a dime. And I did care for you, you know I cared about you, I just…” He focuses on Callie’s drink. “I had to move on with my life. I was selfish. I was too focused on me, and I didn’t call you. It wasn’t because I didn’t care, I just – ”

“Didn’t care enough,” I finish. “That’s not the Eli that I knew.”

He nods. “I know. I changed. Things changed for me.” He finally looks at me and I see the tears in his eyes. “Ididget over it, Ella.”

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