Page 71 of Dice & Dekes

“Sure.” Viktor sits up, ready to spring into action. “The usual?”

“Of course. And one other thing. I’d like you to help me figure out a display for these.” I hold up the tags. “I know some vets like to do shadowboxes or framed displays, but I haven’t looked into the options yet.”

“You want to put them on the wall?” Viktor eyes the dog tags warily.

I cock my head. “Is that a problem?”

“No, I just assumed you’d keep wearing them.” He hesitates. His leg jiggles, the way it always does when he’s anxious about something he wants to say. “It’s okay if you want to. It doesn’t bother me.”

“I don’t want to risk losing them again. And I don’t think I need to keep them so close anymore.” It’s my turn to fidget. “Maybe we could go down to Sofia’s shop sometime and you could help me pick out a new necklace?”

“Oh.” Viktor’s expression slackens. “You mean…? Yeah, I could get you something new.”

“Pizza first, though,” I say. “I think I earned at least half a pie and full remote control.” I haven’t eaten yet today, and now that I’m clawing my way out of my emotional black hole, I’m suddenly ravenous.

“I’ll call in a sec.” Viktor’s leg jiggles again. “But since we’re coming clean about our pasts, I have a question for you. What are your plans for Saturday?”

I tilt my head. “Why?”

He shrugs, suddenly looking twelve kinds of nervous. “I just… I want to show you something. Something I should’ve shown you a long time ago.”

He doesn’t say more than that. But his fingers find mine under the blanket, and this time, I squeeze first.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m free.”

It’s not forgiveness. Not yet.

But it’s a start.

* * *

“How do I dress for this super-secret excursion?” I ask as we circle each other on Saturday morning. Getting ready at the same time is like learning a new dance—one where I don’t know if I’m leading, following, or just trying not to step on his toes. But he doesn’t seem to mind the clumsy footwork.

Viktor pulls on a pair of track pants. “Super casual. And wear shoes made for the great outdoors.”

“Got it.” I reach for a pair of leggings.

Viktor whistles. “Wow. No follow-up questions? It’s almost like you trust me.”

“A little,” I admit. “It’s like, infant trust. Just started crawling. Maybe pulling up on furniture.”

Viktor puts out one arm to catch me and pull me in for a kiss. “Not good enough. I’m holding out for big trust.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re in the car with a pair of breakfast burritos and some surprisingly decent homemade lattes Viktor put together. They lack the usual barrage of syrup shots I usually go for, but they’ll do.

Viktor strangles the wheel in a death grip as we head for the highway. “There’s something I never told you… about why I stood you up for eighth grade graduation.”

I hold up one hand. “Knight already told me.”

Viktor risks a glance at my face. “He did?”

“Yup. I really don’t want to hear about your middle school erection again. No offense.”

“What about my current erection?” he taunts.

I glance pointedly at his lap. “You’re driving. Both hands on the wheel, perv.”

“I meant my… contemporary erection? You know what, forget it. Back to the story.” He adjusts his grip on the wheel and starts over. “So, all that went down. Obviously, my parents got involved. And you know my mom.”