Page 92 of Glass Half Full
It’s not really crucial information, but it’s all I can think to say. Renee laughs again.
“Well, I’m not Pat.” A flash of indecision crosses her features, and her next sentence is almost a whisper. “But I hope you’re not too disappointed to see me?”
“Renee, I...You...You’re the only person I wanted to see tonight.”
The sound of distant traffic and the rumble of the crowd inside fills the silence.
“Your poem...” she begins before trailing off.
“You heard my poem?” My jaw drops open in shock. “But everyone said you weren’t there. I was looking for you all night.”
“I showed up during the intermission,” she explains, “and then I sort of hid behind this tall guy for the rest of the show. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. I just...Before I talked to you, I needed to be sure...”
She stares at her feet.
“Be sure of what?”
A few strands of hair break free of her ponytail as she looks back up at me. “I don’t know exactly, but after what you said, after that poem, I...I’m sure.”
“You are?”
She steps closer, close enough that I can see the darker flecks in her warm brown eyes. It’s been way too fucking long since I looked into those eyes.
“I’m sure my life is better with you in it, Dylan.”
Something clicks into place. Somewhere inside me, a key turns in the ignition, and I roar to life with a power stronger than anything I’ve felt before.
“I know maybe that’s not what you want,” Renee continues, “and maybe this isn’t—”
I don’t give her a chance to finish. I cut off all the questions. I cut off all the doubts. We’re done with those.
Her life is better with me, and mine’s sure as hell better with her. That’s all we need. That’s all we’ve ever needed.
And now we’re sure.
I kiss her. I tangle my hands in her hair and tilt her head back, breathing her in, giving her everything I have to give. She’s shocked for a second, and then she’s kissing me back, throwing her arms around me and pressing her body against my chest until I grab hold of her waist and lift her up in the air.
This is the moment for a lift-the-girl-in-the-air kiss.
“Dylan!” she gasps and laughs against my lips before giving in and kissing me again.
Forget half full or half empty. She’s the whole damn bottle and then some, and I will never get enough of her in my glass.
Twenty-Three
Renee
COUPLET: Two lines of verse joined by meter or rhyme that complete a thought or idea together
I standinside the Montreal bus station clutching my sign. Nobody ever holds signs up here, and pretty much everyone who walks by stares at me in confusion or amusement, but I don’t lower the paper. Dylan told me he didn’t believe I would do it, and his bus just pulled into the arrivals lane.
I push onto my tiptoes to see if I can spot him. People from his bus are already filing inside, but he must have been sitting near the back. When his football player shoulders and wide smile finally clear the doors, I can’t help it. I start calling his name.
That smile gets even wider when his eyes land on me, and he bursts out laughing when they drop to the sign in my hands.
“‘My beefcake boyfriend,’” he reads, striding over to me. “Now who could that be?”
I lean to the side and pretend to peer past him. “I think I saw a beefcake over there. Maybe he’ll be my boyfriend.”
