Page 61 of Backhanded Compliments

Luca blanches, looking overwhelmed by the choices. “Erm, I don’t know. What’s your favorite?” She fiddles with her hands, picking at the skin around her thumbs.

Juliette taps her chin as she thinks. “Close your eyes,” she says as she decides. It isn’t her favorite, but she thinks Luca might like it.

Luca stares at her, incredulous, but with a huff she does as she’s told. Juliette peels open a Bounce Hazelnut Praline bag and maneuvers around the kitchenette to stand next to Luca.

“You’re not allergic to nuts, are you?” Juliette asks, suddenly worried she might accidentally kill her. Luca startles at Juliette’s proximity, but turns her head toward Juliette’s voice, obediently keeping her eyes closed, then shakes her head.

“Open your mouth,” Juliette says softly.

Luca’s lips part, and Juliette carefully slips the chocolate into her mouth, her fingertips barely brushing her lips.

Luca chews and her brows twitch together as she tries to determinethe flavors. Then, she starts to smile as she savors the bite. “That’s good,” Luca says, opening her eyes.

Juliette holds up the bag. “I read that praline is popular in Croatia, so I figured you might like it.”

“I do.” Luca grins, a dimple popping up at the corner of her mouth. Juliette wants to brush her thumb across it.

“It’s probably no Bajadera chocolate, but it’ll work,” Juliette says, fully aware she’s butchering the pronunciation, but it makes Luca laugh. Juliette pops one into her mouth and sighs as the deliciously smooth chocolate melts over her tongue and the almond butter blooms with a nutty sweetness.

“Thank you,” Luca murmurs, and when Juliette looks at her again, Luca is staring at her with a softened expression.

Juliette’s stomach flips as if she’s falling. She’s nearly used to the sensation. “All right,” Juliette says, leaning away from the sudden sappiness that threatens to overwhelm her. “I doubt it’s good for you to sit on a metal chair. Go lay down.” She shoos Luca out of the chair and to the couch, grabbing a handful of snacks and two bottles of orange Lucozade.

“You don’t have to stay,” Luca says, arranging herself on the couch, two pillows supporting her back and a bag of half-melted ice on the coffee table.

Juliette dumps the haul on the table. “Do you need a new ice bag?”

Luca shakes her head. Juliette takes the ice bag to the sink so the water doesn’t ruin the wood. “I don’t have anything else to do, but if you want me to leave, I can,” Juliette says, facing away from Luca. She doesn’t want Luca to see the disappointment on her face if Luca asks her to go.

“No, you don’t have to leave,” Luca says quickly, and Juliette lets out a sigh of relief. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to stay.”

Juliette returns to the living room and plops down on the love seat adjacent to Luca’s couch and unzips her backpack. “We’re friends,” Juliette says. Maybe if she says it enough, it’ll become true. “So, movies or games?”

TWENTY-FOURLUCA

Unfortunately, Luca realizes quickly that trying to play Mario Kart isn’t going to help her strained back. It’s impossible to turn off her ultracompetitive nature, and when she flinches the wrong way turning to avoid sliding off Rainbow Road, her back protests.

Juliette pauses the game. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Luca throws herself back among the pillows and is rewarded with Juliette snorting at her dramatics. “Of course it does.” She huffs, annoyed. She’d spent the last day and a half trying to find a comfortable way to exist. She can’t sit up, because none of the chairs have enough support. Standing is fine, but eventually if she shifts on her feet, the twinges return. So, she has to lay on a plethora of pillows and ice.

“Movie, then?” Juliette asks, navigating out of the game menu to an array of streaming services.

Luca shrugs, noncommittal. She doesn’t really want to watch a movie. She knows the minute it starts, she’ll fall asleep and then Juliette will leave and she’ll be left in her lonely hotel room with nothing but her pain again.

Luca pushes those thoughts away and stretches her legs over the edge of the couch, wriggling down so her feet hang over the armrest.

Juliette glances at her, face half-illuminated by the TV. Her legs are curled beneath her, and she’s staring at Luca with a question on her face.

“Do you know how long you’re out for?” Juliette asks, clicking the controller. Luca watches her open up her Spotify and turn on a random playlist, lowering the sound to a background murmur.

Luca chews on the inside of her lip. “The rest of Wimbledon, at least.”

Juliette frowns. “I was looking forward to beating you.”

Luca scoffs. “Yeah, right. Maybe you would have a chance now.”

Juliette chuckles, and her eyes glint with enjoyment. “I would’ve won anyway.”

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