Page 57 of Star-crossed Betas

Things are…civil. We’re being very cordial.

It’s awful.

It's been about a month since the world's most awkward dinner with my sister and Will and around three months since the night of the stupid airbed incident. Combined with finding out about me and Will, it seems that’s what finally tipped Fee over the edge. I managed to break the most patient man to have ever lived.

We share a bed every night, falling asleep as far apart as possible before inevitably waking up tangled together and then pretending it didn’t happen. We go to work during the day, although I use the term loosely. After everything that went down last year, I couldn’t work with Mikey anymore, so I let him buy my half of the business. Up until a month and a half ago, I’dbeen taking on ad hoc joinery jobs to keep me ticking over. At the moment, I spend most of my days working on a project I’m trying to keep a secret from Fee for as long as possible.

Me:Centuries.Shorter.Forgives. 1pm?

My stomach flutters with butterflies, and my hands clam up while I stare at the text message, waiting and watching as it turns from 'delivered' to 'read'.Three dots appear and then disappear. And they’re back…

Fee:Ok

How anticlimactic. At least it wasn’t a no.

Back when we first met, if we wanted to meet somewhere other than the usual spot, we’d use What3words to send a location. I was hoping my text might soften him up a little, but his blunt response says otherwise. I can’t blame him, though. Phoenix reached out with so many olive branches, and for the most part, I beat him over the head with them. Now, it’s my turn to try and make things right. I just hope it’s not too late.

It’s a warm Saturday with a clear blue sky, so it’s busier than I’d have preferred. To give us a modicum of privacy, I’ve laid the picnic blanket on a grassy patch above the waterfall, where it’s quieter. It’s five minutes past one, and waiting for Fee to get here is making me antsy. I can’t seem to sit still.

What if he thinks this is the most pathetic idea ever?

Before I get a chance to totally spiral, pack everything away and pretend this never happened, I spot Fee walking towards me.

He looks really fucking good. The slightly longer scruff on his face suits him. Makes him look older and more rugged. He’s wearing a well-worn pair of denim shorts he’s had for as long as I’ve known him and a white T-shirt a size too small anda tad transparent—not that I’m complaining. He clearly caught me checking him out because when I look up at him, his right eyebrow is arched.

“What’s all this?” he asks, gesturing to the blanket and the food I’ve laid out.

“A picnic?” I’m not sure why I phrase it as a question. It’s clearly a fucking picnic. He doesn’t respond to my stupid answer, so I plough on, “Um. Since it’s five years ago today we met, I thought it might be nice to…erm…do something,” I stammer out.

Someone punch me in the face, I beg you.

“I know what day it is,” is all he says in response.

“You remembered?”

“Of course I remembered.” His words are clipped, and he sounds angry I’d assume otherwise. Anger I can work with. It’s certainly a step up from the past few months of apathy.

“Well, you were gone when I woke up this morning, and I didn’t hear from you, so I figured you’d maybe not realised the date.”

“I didn’t forget. I also didn’t forget last year, you know when I called you and texted you, and you didn’t reply? When you went and got pissed and slept with Will?”

Ouch. My gesture is rapidly backfiring, and I’m not sure how to claw my way back.

“Why did you come then? You obviously knew why I asked you here today.”

“Because you asked me to. Because even though I’m pissed off with you, if you ask me to come, I’ll come.”

DO NOT LAUGH. I roll my lips between my teeth, and my eyes water at the gargantuan effort to not say the words.

“You’re dying to say ‘that’s what he said,’ aren’t you?”

I silently nod my head.

“I’m glad you came,” I reply, and we both crack up. Some of the tension between us melts away, and a tiny blossom of hope blooms in my stomach.

Fee inspects the sandwich I pass him, and his eyes gentle when he sees I made his favourite, pastrami, pickle and mustard on seeded bread. I get a muttered thank you, and I’m taking it as a win.

“What did you think when you first met me?” I ask Fee as we eat our sandwiches. He raises an eyebrow at me.

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