Page 14 of Meet Me in the Blue

“They sure as fuck were friends with them.”

“Not anymore.”

Luka pulled away. “Because you lost your shit and—”

“Yeah, and because they’re friends with me too. They didn’t know how bad it was… how shitty those guys had been to you.” I rested my hands on the sides of his neck, the bounding thud of his pulse like a drum against my skin. “Shit… Luka… I didn’t even know. No more hiding,” I said again, and he swallowed.

“No more hiding.”

• ••

Luka hadn’t stopped hiding.

Portland. Graham. Los Angeles. He’d disappeared, hid inside his work, inside a dead-end relationship, inside a city where everyone hides. But instead of bullies, this time, he’d been hiding from himself.

“God, tell me how you really feel,” he said, and I couldn’t help but smile. Angry as I was, I missed him too. “I’m selfish and I’m an asshole and…”

“And…” I shook my head, my short-lived smile failing. “And maybe you should do something about it. Instead of making the same mistakes over and over again.”

“Maybe.” Luka picked at a rough spot on the table.

I could hear him thinking and I let him. I let the silence become substantial and foreign. It was exhausting. The quiet wore down my resolve, my resentment. This wasn’t us. This couldn’t be us.

“Do you need more time to decide?” Harriett asked as she approached the table, pulling out a pad and pen from her apron.

Did I need more time to decide?

Yes.

This wasn’t us.

This was something new.

And I needed to decide how I was supposed to muck my way through it.

“Um…” Luka picked up his menu, giving it a cursory glance before handing it to Harriett. “I’ll have the chowder and an orange soda if you have it.”

I bit back my smile, a crashing wave of nostalgia making my anger seem juvenile.

“What about you, Rook? Want your usual?”

I stared at my friend. My best friend. This stranger I wanted to know. “Nah… I think I’ll have what he’s having. But water instead of soda.”

“You got it.” She scribbled our orders onto the small pad in her hand and took my menu before walking toward the kitchen.

“Orange soda?” I asked and Luka raised a brow.

“What? It’s refreshing.”

I allowed myself to smile and leaned back in the booth. “I guess some things haven’t changed. It’s nice.”

“Rook… I still like the same things, maybe I’ve added to the list over the years, but I’m still me.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, something you’ve added to the list.”

Part of me didn’t want to know. Part of me wanted to keep my memory of Luka in a box I could neatly store inside our childhood fort.

“I’m not afraid of food trucks anymore.”

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