Page 26 of My First Time Fling

“Nope,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t even think about it. I’m cutting you. Go home, get some sleep, and take it easy.”

“Brooklyn, everything’s fine now. I just talked to my mom herself. She’s alright. There’s no reason I can’t stay here and finish out the rest of my shift.”

“Except that you look like a zombie and are probably going to scare half our customers away. Plus, there’s no way your roommates are going to be partying now. If there’s any justice in the world, they’ll all still be asleep or hungover. Go home and take a nap.”

I was too tired to protest, and the prospect of a nap sounded so good that I just hung up my apron, punched out, and waved blearily to Brooklyn as I walked out the door—

And straight into Mark.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, blinking up at him. I realized my hands were on his chest and I pulled them away like they burned. It would be just like me to be so tired that I forgot he didn’t like me and tried to make out with him.

“I was coming to see you,” Mark said, cocking his head to the side. “You left your wallet. It must have fallen out of your pocket when you took your pants off.”

“I’m sorry, did he just say something about you taking your pants—” Brooklyn called from the far side of the counter, but Mark hurried on before he could finish.

“I mean, not that I—I just thought I’d bring it back to you, is all. I thought you were supposed to work till three. Did you get off early?”

“Or did you get off last night, when you took your pants—” Brooklyn began again, and I shoved Mark back out to the sidewalk, letting the door swing shut behind us. I was pretty sure Mark knew Brooklyn was just joking, but still.

“I—yeah, I was supposed to, but—it’s—” I shook my head to clear my thoughts and tried again. “It’s been a day, let’s just put it that way. I was heading home to take a nap. Thank you for bringing my wallet by, though. I didn’t even realize it was missing, which is kinda scary.”

“I can walk with you, if you want,” Mark said, holding my wallet out to me.

I was too tired to puzzle over whether that offer was weird, so I just took my wallet and nodded. We set out towards my house in silence.

“If you just wanna crash and not talk about it,” Mark said after a moment, “that’s fine, but is everything alright?”

I opened my mouth to assure him that it was—and somehow found myself unloading everything onto him instead. It came out as a garbled, disorganized mess, my complaints about the blueberries mixed up with those about Harris and my roommates and life in general. I’d just mentioned my mother’s fall when Mark stopped me.

“Wait, what? Is your mom okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking up at him in surprise as we walked by one of the huge old buildings on Chatham’s campus. “She’s fine. It was a little scary for a minute, but I talked to her a while ago, and she sounds good. She should be home from the hospital by the end of the day.”

“That’s a relief,” Mark said. “It must be hard for you, being so far away from her.”

“Sometimes.” My lips twisted. “I kinda go back and forth. I love her and obviously would drop everything in a heartbeat if she needed me. But sometimes it’s a relief not to be the person being leaned on all the time. I don’t know—does that make me a bad person?”

“Not at all,” Mark said. He was doing that sad smile thing again. “That’s a lot to ask of someone, even if theyarea family member. It’s hard, carrying someone else’s burdens. I’d never want to put that on someone.”

“I don’t think of her as a burden,” I said sharply. “Really. She’s my mom, and I know she’d do the same for me. I guess I just meant…I don’t know. Sometimes I think I would prefer to be down there with her. Because the longer I stay up here, the more I feel like I’m going to let her down. I think she might be more excited about my bed and breakfast fantasy than I am. She’s convinced that this is my chance to finally ‘make it’ or whatever. I don’t feel like I can break it to her that I might not.”

“She’s your mom. I’m sure she’ll be proud of you no matter what.”

“Ha. Spoken like an adored, favorite child, I’ll bet.”

Mark shrugged, then looked away before answering. “I don’t know if adored is quite the right word. And I’m an only child, so it’s not like I have any competition. But my parents tried for such a long time to get pregnant, and sometimes I feel like they like the idea of me more than they like who I really am.”

“What? That’s crazy. You’re like, the world’s most perfect child. Smart, handsome, funny. You’re in the Army for God’s sake. You’re a golden boy.”

“I guess.” Mark shoved his hands in his pockets. “But sometimes I wonder how much of my life I’ve spent trying to do what was expected of me, versus what would make me happy. I don’t know that I really wanted to join the Army, but I knew it would make my dad proud for me to follow in his footsteps. I didn’t particularly like my job back in Chicago either, but my mom’s friend offered it to me and I felt like I couldn’t say no. I know my parents love me and all, but I’m not sure they always like the mess that comes with loving a real, flawed human being.”

“If that’s true, your parents are dummies,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “Sorry, not to speak ill of your family, but that’s seriously insane. You're not a mess, you’re awesome. And if they don’t see that, then they’re—bulldog!”

“What?”

Mark looked at me like I was nuts. I couldn’t blame him. That wasn’t how I’d expected to end that sentence either, but I’d caught sight of a girl walking a particularly wrinkly English bulldog down the sidewalk towards us, and I hadn’t been able to contain myself.

“Look!” I pointed. “How can you not think that that is the cutest dog alive?”

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