Page 43 of Seven Summer Weekends

“I never met the right person, I guess. My friends say I choose poorly.”

“Oh—you like the bad boys?’

“The opposite. I pick painfully nice guys who end up boring me to tears. It sounds awful, but I think I like to have the upper hand.”

“You should definitely look for a main character type—a side guy could never be worthy of you.”

“Noted.” She smiled at the compliment, but on second thought, it gave her pause. Why was he doling out dating advice and playing the wingman?

“What about you?” she asked instead.

“Well, that was the first time I’ve really danced. You know, without Julia.”

And voilà—the man from the book appeared right before her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “How long has it been now?”

“Three years, forty-three days.”

He laughed at his preciseness, and his humility tugged at her heart.

“But you’ve dated?”

“I haven’t dated. Just, you know—had the tit-for-tat sex.”

Addison laughed. “Are you always so open about these things?”

“Not at all, actually. Not only have I not danced with anyone since Julia, I also haven’t talked to anyone since Julia. I mean, really talked. Julia was a major league listener.”

“I can’t imagine how much you miss her.”

“Talking about her helps. Not that anyone lets me. It’s nice to talk to someone about Julia who didn’t know her. Someone who doesn’t find it painful to talk about her—or laugh about her. Her sister, Nora, and I manage to do it sometimes. Just bring up funny stories, or her amazing laugh. But her parents, or her best friend—they still look at me like I will break in two if they even say her name.”

“Was Julia funny?”

“Not particularly. I mean, once in a while she would come out with a real zinger. But she had a great sense of humor. When she laughed, when she really laughed, her entire face would contort, and her eyes would fill with tears. Her laugh was everything. Complete strangers would laugh, watching Julia laugh.”

“Well, I don’t feel like a complete stranger—after reading your book.”

“I don’t even recognize the guy in that book anymore. He was so angry.”

Addison was quiet. Ben mistook her introspection for judgment and apologized again.

“I’m really sorry about the bungee cord thing. I have a hard time with change—like things to be a certain way. You should have seen the fit I threw when they tried to replace the sidewalk on our block.”

Addison thought to say,I heard, but the only thing worse than throwing a fit about something is throwing a fit about something with witnesses. She saved him the further embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” she said, falsely adding, “I forgot about it already.”

It wasn’t completely false. Her eyes were open, but the more time she spent with him, the more she trusted he was a good guy. Possibly even a great one.

The night had definitely taken a turn. The first beats of “99 Red Balloons” echoed from the club. She wondered if she should steer him back inside.

“It’s so nice to be with someone that doesn’t look at me with a pained expression,” he said with a somewhat pained expression.

She sank further into the bench and placed her hand on his knee in comfort as he continued.

“It’s not just here, you know. Anyone I meet who has read my book knows my pain. It’s like I’m wearing a scarletWon my chest. I think it’s why I didn’t properly introduce myself to you. I was so excited to be anonymous.”

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