Page 79 of Can't Help Falling

Fin cleared up the kitchen while he was gone, washing their plates and boxing up the leftovers. He came back with two more beers under one arm and half a cake balancing on a plate in the other hand.

“Medovnik cake for dessert,” he said, hefting the plate up and setting it on the table with a flourish. “Courtesy of Ivetka and Kamil, my neighbors two doors down.”

“Oh, yum. I haven’t had this in years! Are they from the Czech Republic?”

“Yeah. She teaches at a few CUNY schools, and he works at a restaurant in Queens. Czech food that’ll make you punch your grandma it’s so good.”

She laughed, which proved just how much of a crush she had, because that was not the kind of joke that would normally make her laugh.

“Beer and cake?” he asked. “Beer first, cake second?”

“Beer first, cake second.”

“Good choice.” He sat down, twisted the tops off their icy beers and peered thoughtfully at the label. “You were really popping beer bottles in your preteens back in Louisiana?”

“I was popping coke bottles in my preteens. And maybe, like, three or four beer bottles once when Tammy Wegren stole some beer from her mama and we got drunk while she was at work.”

Tyler laughed, took a swig of his beer and squinted thoughtfully into his own past. “Let’s see. The first time I ever got drunk, Seb and I were sixteen and trying very hard to be cool at this hot senior girl’s party.” He cleared his throat. “We did not end up being cool.”

“Lampshade dancing?”

He laughed. “No. But there was definitely dancing of other kinds. That was the first night I ever freaked a girl on the dance floor. And then I had to run out of the house to go puke in the bushes. Seb basically carried me to the train. Then, he puked in a trash can on the platform, and I basically carried him home from the train.”

Fin laughed. “Classic? I guess?”

Tyler joined in her laughter. “No, not a classic for us. We actually didn’t party that much in high school. I was the kid who did ballet, and Sebastian had yet to grow into that giant head of his.”

Fin thought of how handsome Seb was now with his blunt face and big body, but she could easily see how those large features would be pretty burdensome midpuberty. “Think Matty’s in store for some awkward teen years?”

“Oh, I’d put money on it. It’s gonna be a long and painful decade of teendom when he shoots up like a beanstalk and realizes that he’s in love with Joy.”

“You think so? I’m not sure they’re in love.”

“Trust me. They love each other. If it didn’t make me feel like a perv, I’d put money on them losing their V-cards together.”

“Oh, God.” She squinched up her face and shook her head. “Why? Tyler? Why?”

“What? I’m sure they’ll be over eighteen, and there’ll be plenty of rose petals. Does that make you feel better?”

“No, you sicko. And I wouldn’t wish rose-petal virginity losing on my worst enemy. Too much pressure.”

“Bad experience?” he asked, blatant curiosity written in every line of his face.

“Not bad. Just awkward. I was kind of old. Twenty. And I’d been dating this guy for a few months. I was kind of like, eh, why not? Meanwhile he was like—”

“Drawing you a bath and serenading you with Boyz II Men?”

“Pretty much, yeah. He did the whole nine. Champagne. Flowers. Chocolate-covered strawberries...”

“And then you had really terrible, awkward first-timer sex?”

“Yup.” She popped the p. “We didn’t last as a couple much longer after that. It was pretty clear we weren’t on the same page.” She took a swig of beer. “How about you?”

“My first time? Let’s see. I had you beat. I was twenty-one.”

“Late bloomer?”

“Sort of? I think people thought I was gay because of the ballet thing, so I’d often go on a date and then the girl would be like, ‘Hold on, is this a date?’ Not exactly an aphrodisiac.”

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