Page 74 of Falling Backwards
“We were busy as shit that night, so I—”
Almost simultaneously, we hold up our hands as if to say,‘Okay, this is neither here nor there.’
“Whatever,” she says aloud.
“Whatever,” I echo.
Taking a breath, I get back to what’s going on at the moment.
Though the notion does something strange to my stomach, I have to tell her, “I’m fine with cheek kisses.Forehead kisses.If they seem natural at all, like you said.”
She hasn’t had as much time to weigh the pros and cons as I have, so I wait patiently.
Shortly, she says, “I guess I’m fine with those too.I mean, I don’t mean‘I guess’like I’m unsure but going along with it anyway.I just….”If a glance could be a mutter, the one she sends over me would be one.“This isn’t something I thought we’d ever be talking about.None of this is.”
I could laugh.“Believe me, I know.”
She blows a raspberry.“Yeah, of course you do.”
As seconds tick by with us being quiet, one more detail grows bigger in my mind.
I’m halfway afraid to voice it because even a mention might set her off somehow.But for her comfort and my own, I think I have to.
“No full-on ones, though, right?”I clear my throat.“No full-on kisses?”My eyes go over her lips yet again.For a second, I worry she’s going to fold the bottom one into her mouth again—my stomach leaps at the thought because—
She doesn’t do it, though, just says, “I—I don’t really think those would be necessary.Do you?”
Cute-action-bullet dodged.
I answer, “No, I don’t really think so either.”After a bit of contemplation, I acknowledge, “I’m sure plenty of couples don’t do that out in public.Doesn’t seem like it’ll be weird if we don’t do it ourselves.”
“Good point.Yeah.So…none of those.”
“Deal.”
She finally untangles her fingers and lets her hands flop down to her sides.“Done with rules?”
“Sure.They sound good to me.”
“To me too.What now, then?”
Since I did come prepared for much of this whole fake-dating conversation, my reply comes easily.
“To kick this plan off, I think we should start out saying something nice or easy to each other.Or trusting.Like we did at the bar.”I lift a nod at her.“My thing is I listened to that song you mentioned—‘July’—and I thought it was great.”
The tension about her loosens, as I hoped it would.“Really?”
“Yeah, it feels a lot like summer to me.Chill sometimes, upbeat other times.But it’s notonlya summertime song, you know?It’s just good.”As I recall my third time listening to it earlier at home, I add, “Makes you wanna play an air-instrument.”
“Or move to the beat, yeah.It has a groove to it.”
“It does.”
The tiniest smile of pleased agreement graces her lips.
I wet my own lips, which abruptly feel dry.“What about you?What do you feel like saying?”
She grows pensive.I think I hear her murmur to herself, “Something nice or…trusting?”
