Page 55 of The First Love Myth

Did Claire give us an out? Or does she hate that Andrew still cares enough to screw with me? Both?

Andrew kisses her temple. My stomach flips. How many times had he done that to me? It’s his go-to sign of affection. One that I loved because of its simplicity. And he’s doing it to Claire.

“You’re right, love.” He raps his knuckles on the table. “Good luck, you two.”

Max turns to me once they’re gone, his expression unreadable. “You okay, Zee?”

“Yeah.” And I think it’s true. I tuck my hair back behind my ears. “I’m fine. I mean, they’re ridiculous, but it’s fine. Let them fuck until the cows come home.”

“You’re upset if you’re talking in bad clichés.”

He shouldn’t know that about me yet, but he does. “I’m...” My voice cracks.Fuck Andrew Singer.

“What is it?”

“I was going to say I’m surprised.” I pick up a fry and point it at him. “But I’m not, which is worse somehow, you know?”

“Hey, guys,” Joe says. We can’t catch a break today. I inch away from Max and give my boyfriend’s best friend a wan smile—at least I think Max is my boyfriend. Joe’s expression at least is pleasant, nothing like the evil eye I got at the party.

“Hey, man,” Max says, taking his hand across the table. “You guys strategizing for orientation?”

“You know it.” Joe fixes me with a smile. “Nice to see you again, Zoey.”

“You, too, Joe,” I say, his first name still awkward from my mouth.

Behind him, the two other teachers, who I now recognize, are getting settled. Max and Joe talk, but I’m focused on the teachers. They are dating. No, wait, engaged. It was a rumor my senior year, but no one ever confirmed it. But it’s clear now. They both look up then. Ms. James smiles and waves. Mr. Matthews, who was my class advisor for two years, eyes me and Max. It’s clear he’s noting that we’re sitting on the same side of the table and eating off the same plate, but he only nods a greeting before turning his attention to his menu. Maybe Max and I won’t be an issue. Liz doesn’t care. Neither do Haley or Becca. And Max wouldn’t risk his job to make out with me. That would be silly. With his looks, he can have whomever he wants.

“Well, enjoy your dinner,” Joe says before heading back to his table.

Max pulls me close again. “Where’d you go?”

“Oh, it’s... Joe didn’t seem very happy to see me at the party. Particularly when he found me in your bedroom. And the other teachers...”

“Ah.” Max links our fingers. “Well, first, there’s no rule that says I can’t date you as you are a graduate for more than a year and were never under my purview. I checked. Twice. We’re not doing anything wrong—legally, morally, or otherwise. I’m only five years older than you, Zee. If you shift our meeting a few years, no one would bat an eye.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Second, Joe’s reaction the other night had nothing to do with you and everything to do with my ex-girlfriend.”

“What do you mean?”

“Joe’s boyfriend is Tess’s best friend.”

I didn’t know Max’s ex’s name before this moment, and now it’s forever seared into my memory.

“Butshedumped you.”

To his credit, he doesn’t react to my crass comment. “Yes, but then she tried to take it back, and I turned her down.”

“Because of... me?” It feels indulgent asking such a question, but it would certainly explain Joe’s reaction. While it couldn’t have been fun to run into a former student at a party, it also didn’t warrant the chastisement I felt that night, especially since he knows Max and I work together.

“Because she and I don’t make sense anymore. Because her deciding to move a thousand miles away when she knew I couldn’t go with her was uncool. And yes”—he leans close enough that his breath stirs my hair, and I ache to kiss him—“because of you.”

Wow.Way to lay it out there. My cheeks heat up as does the rest of my body. I want to look away, but no matter where my gaze goes, it lands back on Max—his hand in mine, his arm around my shoulder, his lips close to mine.

I take a sip of my iced tea. It does nothing to curb the fire working its way through me. I wish we ordered in. I wish we were sitting on Max’s couch, hidden from the public eye. All I want is to climb onto his lap and kiss him for days. There’s no Andrew or Claire or Cecilia. No nosy coworkers or end-of-summer deadlines. On that couch, in that moment, we can be Max and Zee.

“Where’s your head?” Max asks after I’ve guzzled half my drink.

The Zoey I’ve always been would’ve shrugged and moved on. But with Max I get to be Zee, and maybe, for Zee, the rules are different. Zee asks to be kissed. Maybe I can ask for this too.

“Back at your apartment,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

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