Page 49 of Looks Real Good Now
“Do you find it funny how people seem to revert to an old version of themselves when you put them back in certain situations?”
“Is that an answer to my question?”
“Yeah, kind of. Everyone behaved the exact way they did when we were eighteen. Some of them flirted with me because that was what they always did. Some of the guys only knew how to talk to me about sports. A couple were still a little bit scared of me because they remembered how I used to be on the ice. You tried to disappear into a wall,” he teased at the end.
“I wasn’t trying to disappear. I was talking to people. You saw me talking to people.”
“I saw you talking to Eddie,” he grumbled.
“Which you then promptly shut down in a bout of jealousy.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” he shot back quickly.
“I was in that spot for ages before you came over and you only made your appearance when I was talking to Eddie. What is thatif not jealousy?”
“It was me seeing you and knowing that you were ready to leave. It just so happened to be that you were under some mistletoe while you were talking to Eddie, and it’s bad luck to ignore it. Or whatever that superstition is.”
“You have so many superstitions and you don’t know what’s up with mistletoe?” I didn’t either, if I was being honest.
“I have a lot of sports-related superstitions. They don’t tend to carry outside of that.”
“I see what you’re doing here. It’s interesting that you’ve shifted the conversation to superstitions so we can stop talking about you being jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous. I’m…what was it that you said? Chill?”
“Oh my gosh, you’re ridiculous. Fine, after whatever incident I said I was chill, I was not chill. I was maybe a little bit jealous.” Or a lot jealous.
He smiled. “I really did go over because I could tell you were ready to go, but I also wasn’t a huge fan of how Eddie was looking at you. Like he wanted to take you up to his room.”
“Because only you can do that?”
“I’d fucking hope so, as your boyfriend.”
I stopped. We were outside his parents’ house.
“This isn’t fake anymore, is it? We’re actually dating, aren’t we? You are getting a proper thrill out of saying that you’re my boyfriend.” I had said I was his girlfriend before we left, and I’d meant it. I was his girlfriend; there was nothing fake about it.
“This hasn’t felt fake since I wrapped my arm around you in that bakery queue and Chantelle started talking to me. Actually, that might be a small lie. This hasn’t felt fake since I left you inbed that first morning and came back just in time to hear you say my name when you came,” he said.
“What…no…that’s…you didn’t…why didn’t—” I’d been so sure I was quiet that morning.
“Why didn’t I say anything? What was I supposed to say?”
“Is that why you started talking about how we should go on dates? So you could test drive a real relationship?”
“Yes and no. I did think we probably shouldn’t stay holed up in the house because that would be odd. But yes, I wanted to date you and figured if you were thinking about me like that, it might not be beyond the realm of possibility that you could think about me as an actual boyfriend. I wouldn’t call it a test drive. I very much want to keep you, but the dates were kind of a test drive.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Now come on, let’s get you a whiskey from the back of the cupboard and under a blanket. If you’re lucky, I’ll go down on you.” He gently pulled on my arm and walked us the seventeen steps home.
“What do I have to do to get lucky?” I asked as I unlocked the front door.
“Exist on a day that ends in y.”
31
Liam
