Page 28 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

We walk into her apartment and immediately her rabid cat comes into view. He greets her with a rub on her calf, then looks up at me and runs in the other direction.

She giggles. “He still likes you, I see.”

Heading straight for the kitchen and depositing the bags on the counter, I find some wine glasses, uncork the wine, and let it breathe as she puts her groceries away.

She holds a package of pasta in her hand and glances back at me. “I just realized I didn’t buy enough for two, because this—”

“Isn’t a date,” I finish, stepping over and brushing her hair behind her shoulder.

Taking the box from her hand and putting it in the pantry, I snoop around, find some crackers, and then open her fridge and pull out a brick of cheese. I hold both items up. “This will do. It’ll go with the wine.”

I find a knife, slice the cheese, and then search for a small platter to put it on. I arrange the crackers and cheese on a rainbow-colored plastic serving tray that’s the shape of a fish, trying not to laugh because the serving tray is soher. Then I look under her sink for cleaning supplies and sanitize the entire counter.

“Shall we sit?” I ask, tray in hand, motioning to her couch.

She grabs the glasses and the bottle and we go to the living room, which is really just an extension of her kitchen, makingit one large room. Her cat peeks out from behind the couch. He looks at me like I’m a cat butcher in search of fresh meat.

“How was your day?” I pour the wine and hand her a glass before shoving a piece of cheese in my mouth.

“I’m not one for small talk, Lucas. Besides, that’s not really why we’re here. But there is one thing I’ve been curious about.”

“What’s that?”

“I really want to know what the hell happened when my dad walked in on you.”

I laugh heartily. “Is that why you agreed to this? Curiosity?”

She shrugs and I wonder if it truly is the reason.

I lean back with my wine and put my feet on her coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. A story like this one definitely calls for settling in.

She palms a few cubes of cheese then curls herself into the corner of the sofa, watching me expectantly.

“In order for me to properly tell the story, I have to start from the beginning. Back in middle school, probably when I sprouted my first pubic hair, I was at the town fair and saw this amazing dark-haired girl playing volleyball in the sandpit.”

A smile overtakes her face. “I remember those town fairs. What ever happened to them?”

“I think they still happen. We just outgrew them.”

She looks at me oddly, like she’s disappointed that we did.

“Anyway, you were this voluptuous older girl, in high school by that time, but I’m fairly sure seeing you in those tight shorts resulted in my very first boner. Or maybe it was the top you wore. It saidI like big balls.It was a volleyball shirt, but even at my young age, I got the double entendre.”

“You remember what I was wearing?” she asks in surprise.

“Hell yeah, I do. Regan, that image of you was the very thought I jerked off to for years.”

Her jaw slackens. “Years?”

“It was the reason I became friends with Ryder. I figured if I was his friend, I’d be closer to you. And it worked. By the time I was a freshman and you were a senior, you were driving us around in your parents’ Nissan.”

“Oh my god. I remember that. I hated having to drive you to football practice. I’d sit in the stands and do my calculus homework.”

“I know you did. Why do you think I didn’t make the team that year? I was too busy staring at the rockin’ captain of the girls’ volleyball team. You never looked back at me, though, and that pissed me off.”

She giggles. “Sorry. I did end up with a B+ in calc, so it was worth it.”

“That summer, your parents invited me on your beach vacation.”

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