Page 21 of Love in Focus

By then, the elephant in the room is unbearably obvious, so I blurt out, “We kissed.”

“We kissed,” she says it back matter-of-factly. “It’s fine. I know it was an accident. We should avoid drinking the next time we meet up, though. And maybe focus on work.”

“Right. Glad we’re on the same page.”

When we finish eating, she gets up to set the pot on the stove to cool off, and I take our spoons and now empty bowls and put them in the sink. It’s purely out of habit, since back at my friends’ apartment, I always help them clean up after a meal. So I don’t think about what I’m doing until Celeste stiffens.

“You could have just left everything on the table,” she says. “Thanks, though.”

A strained look crosses her face. And it’s only then that I realize how familiar this all is. Eating breakfast with Celeste and cleaning up together afterward.

I get a flashback of how Celeste’s hair looked first thing in the morning, messy yet still beautiful with the sunlight streaming in from the pink curtains of our bedroom. I remember all the hearts she drew while we ate our meals—either with ketchup or with gochujang, depending on whether we were eating American or Korean food. And I remember how we laughed almost every day we were together, often because we saw something funny on the internet or at school, but mostly because we just really liked being around each other.

The Celeste of today, cool and indifferent, might as well be a whole other person. And in a way, she is.

I back away from the kitchen. “I should get going. Thanks again for everything.”

Celeste’s eyebrows knit together, but she smiles politely, nevertheless. “No problem,” she says. “Get home safe.”

A quick Google Maps search tells me Celeste’s place is in Nob Hill and only a couple minutes’ walk from a cable car stop. I rarely ride cable cars, but since it’s the fastest way to the N Muni line, I end up riding one with a group of excited tourists. It’s a nice change of pace, and the happy squeals of kids as we go down the hills bring a smile to my face.

Even so, I don’t let myself fully relax until I’m on the Muni back to my friends’ apartment. The train car is full of people going about their Saturday around the city. Everyone is high energy today, like the college students in cosplay chatting loudly as they head to an anime convention or the little kids bouncing up and down in their seats.

And then there’s me, slumped over on my seat and resting my forehead on the cool glass of the train window. Somehow, I’m on the Muni Ride of Shame again, this time for a wholly different reason than I was last month.

Clearly, when it comes to Celeste, I can’t trust myself to make good choices.

By the time the train gets to my stop, I resolve to tell Val and Kiara everything.

Since the front door opens into the kitchen, I’m hit with the buttery smell of freshly made pancakes as soon as I slip inside my friends’ apartment. Val’s at the stove, singing along at the top of her lungs in Spanish to Fuerza Regida as she cooks breakfast, holding the spatula like a mic. She must have not heard me come in, because she doesn’t turn around.

For a moment, I stand there with my back against the door, watching my friend as she prepares two steaming hot plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and chocolate chip pancakes.

Val and Kiara have a cute tradition where they—well, mostly Val—make a home-cooked breakfast every Saturday morning, a sacred ritual that goes back to the first time Kiara slept over. Val claims that that’s how she “got the girl,” because during that fateful meal, she promised Kiarathat she would make the same breakfast for her every Saturday as long as they both lived.

I think about sneaking past Val, but then I spot a pancake currently cooking—smoking—on the pan. It’s dangerously close to being burnt.

“Need help?” I finally ask. “That pancake looks ready.”

Val startles, but then expertly flips the pancake before turning around to look me up and down. She lowers the volume of the music before saying, “So you’re alive after all.”

“Is Gemma back?” Kiara walks into the kitchen, holding Burrito. “Not to sound like an overprotective parent, but where were you last night, Gemma? You could have at least sent a text or something. Even the Financial District isn’t as safe as it seems. One time, a friend of mine got mugged there in broad daylight!”

Burrito lets out a small yowl of protest, and Kiara places him on the floor. He makes a beeline for his bowls, and after a few licks of water, he comes over to weave between my legs, purring.

I sigh. “Sorry,” I say to my friends, not the cat. “My phone must have died after I got shitfaced.”

“Withwho?” Val and Kiara ask in unison.

I reach down to scratch Burrito in between his ears. He closes his eyes and lies down on the floor, enjoying the attention.

“It’s a long story,” I say. “I’ll tell you over breakfast? I already ate, so no need to make me a plate, by the way.”

“You sure you don’t want a chocolate chip pancake?” Val asks as she hands Kiara her plate. “We have extra.”

I eye the pancake. I’m still full, but the gooey chocolate chipsdolook good. “Okay, thanks. I’ll take one.”

“No problem, I got you!” Val smiles. “Go lock up Burrito and sit down with Kiara at the dining table.”

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