Page 100 of Let's Talk About Love
“You’re giving me flowers?” he said, taking them. His smile turned her kneecaps into jelly.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Okay.” He laughed, seemingly tickled by her gesture. “Thank you, but why?”
“Because it seemed like a good idea at the time. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t seriously doubting Past Alice’s judgment.”
“They smell nice.” He brought the bouquet close to his nose, breathing in. “You’re the first person to ever give me flowers.”
“Good.” She breathed out. “Great.” She breathed in. “I like being first. I always want to be first.” She focused on the armrest in between them. “With you.”
Five beats of silence later, Takumi asked, “Did you just say you want to be first with me?”
“I am really messing this up,” she muttered. “So if you could help me help myself that would be amazing.”
“Okay,” he said. (The dashboardsurewas interesting to look at.) “Are you trying to ask me out?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“On a date?”
“Also yes.” She glanced at him. “Or we could skip that part since we hang out so much and jump straight into dating and kissing. If you want. If you’re interested. Because I am, obviously.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I guess I just woke up and thought I should risk total and utter humiliation and potentially be scarred for life and never ask anyone out in the wild ever again because I really want to kiss your face more than I have common sense.”
Regret hurt worse than she thought it would. It was a lot like stepping on an errant Lego piece with the instep of her foot. Sharp, brutal, and surprising enough to make you want to swear.
“So now would be a good time to say something,” she said when he continued to be silent.
“I’m trying. I’m just”—he paused—“I’m a little floored here.”
“I guess that means no.” She bit her lip.
“No. I mean, I’m not sayingno.” More pausing. “I think I’m trying to say I need some time to think about this.”
“About me?”
“Yeah. And about us being anus. How that would work.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s fair. I don’t think it would be much different from how things are now.”
Takumi blinked a few times in rapid succession, before exhaling with a tense smile. He ran his hands over the back of his head.
“It’s just you’ve made your stance, I guess, pretty clear on things.”
A nervous quiver began to build in the pit of Alice’s stomach. “Oh. That.” She lowered her head. Her fingers toyed with the collar of her shirt when really they wanted to curl into a fist and press against the pain in her chest. But she didn’t want him to see.
“I remember what you said,” he said softly. “I don’t know if it’s something I could give up.” He closed his eyes, hands out in front of him as if he were reaching for the perfect combination of words to break her heart. Alice waited—wanting to hear it, wanting to run, wanting, wanting, always waiting and wanting. When he opened his eyes, he said, “I think about you all the time. If I’m not with you, I’m counting the seconds until I get to see you. I want to be with you, too, so I’ve been reading everything that I could, and I’m sorry, but I don’t completely understand. I’ve been afraid to ask for help.”
“It’s simple.” Alice shrugged. “My liking you doesn’t make you an automatic exception to what I said.”
“That’s not what I’m asking to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I want to understand. You like me, but you’re not sexually attracted to me, but that doesn’t necessarily have to mean you don’t want to have sex with me, right? You could, but you don’t want to because you don’t care, is that right?” Takumi shook his head and exhaled in a huff. “I’m saying this wrong. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
An eerie calm settled over Alice. Every time this happened, she felt her pain with bone-shattering clarity, but this time—nothing. There was nothing. A numbness, surreal but true, made her heart keep beating at a steady rhythm, kept her breathing even, and allowed her to look at him. She watched him fidget and struggle, unsure where to look, what to do with his hands. Was he shaking from nerves or from worry?
Neither of them believed in forever, but for now wasn’t nearly long enough. Until he grew tired, until he moved on, until he left her because of something she had no control over. The thought of pretending, of faking her way through whatever kind of relationship he wanted, made her sick to her stomach. She had to be the one to leave him.
