Page 69 of My Cosplay Escape
“The cosplay is cool,” Adam ventures, taking a seat on the provided card table.
“Incredible,” I agree.
“Did you go to a panel?”
“Just one. We didn’t want to stand in the sun for the others.” Not in head-to-toe black vinyl. Adam’s ears prick at thewe. “I went with my friend. Gwen.”
“You should have stopped by the vendors on the first floor.”
“How do you know I didn’t?”
“I would have seen you,” he says.
My face feels hot.
“Here.” Adam slides off the table. “Let me show you the trick to this box.”
* * *
It is a nice day, and perhaps the nicest thing about it is the lack of silence. Everyone always tells me that a “comfortable silence” is the hallmark of a happy marriage/relationship/whatever. If you can be in a car with someone, spend the day with them, and not have to talk to them, everything is okay.
Daniel believed it.Would you quit trying to find something for us to talk about?
Silence haunted my past life. Silence was everywhere. And honestly, I thought it was me. It was another one of my hang-ups that fed into my screw-ups.
Silence isn’t comfortable. It isn’t anything.
Adam wants to talk. And I want to talk to him.
Amazing the soul-searching one does while standing in line at a taco truck. Adam asked me to grab him one (one—ha!) while he finished up inside. A couple of Dr. Leto-obsessed restaurateurs were asking pointed questions about growth and return on investments. I needed dinner more than I needed to people-watch… or stare at Adam’s chin. Yes, the alley. And no. I still don’t know.
I’m making my way back with two boxes of tacos when Adam tugs on my hoodie. It isn’t rough or anything of the kind, but with my convention track record, I jump and yelp and careen.
His arms steady me, and Shirley Temples, I like it.
“You okay?” Adam asks.
“Tacos,” I mutter. I try and fail to let go of him.
“Is that a new one of your swears?” Adam asks.
Is it? Tacos, he’s handsome. No.Tacosdoesn’t have the same panache asgoldfish.
Goldfish, he’s handsome.
That’s much better.
“I didn’t ask what kind of taco you like,” I say. He’s been asking me questions all day long, and I don’t even know if I got him the right tacos.
“How could there be a wrong kind of taco?” Adam leads me through the considerably more crowded ballroom. The Letovians are queueing for the last event of the evening, the cosplay contest, which I am more than okay missing. Cosplay coming up in real life makes me blush, and I don’t need Adam picking up on that and asking why.
“Why AJ Comics at your escape room? Why not Amaze?” I ask, but the room is way too loud to be heard. Adam leads me past his booth, where many trench-coat-wearing fans have amassed around the puzzle boxes, and out into a deserted stairwell. We camp out there on a carpeted landing. The noise of the ballroom pressing against the door from the other side makes me feel snug. Cozy, even.
Adam smiles down at his box of street tacos.
“You trying not to cry?” I say, opening up my box. I mean, tacos are beautiful.
“Yes,” Adam says after a bite. “Spicy must mean something different in Pacific Beach than downtown.”
