Page 132 of Late Fees

“What are you serving? Besides the beer in your fridge?” There was a slight bite to my words, even though I didn’t want to have an attitude with her.

Stop it, Wyatt. Just get over it.

“Jell-O shots,” she said with a grin. “Come see.”

She led me to the fridge where inside she had stacks of different colored Jell-O shots on trays. “That’s a lot of Jell-O.”

“I spent all afternoon making them; they should be ready in a few hours.”

“Cutting it close,” I teased.

“Yeah, I know. I’d meant to do them last night after work, but I was so exhausted that I put it off until after class. Like I said, this is the last stop, so who cares if they’re a little liquidy. No one will notice by then.”

“True.”

“I’ll order the pokey stix, and then I have to take a shower. I probably smell like Jell-O,” she said, grabbing the menu for Gumby’s Pizza from under the Prince magnet on her fridge. “Turn on the TV or whatever. I’ll be ready by the time the food comes.”

She kissed me gently before walking to her cordless phone on the kitchen counter. She ordered our dinner, then wandered down the hallway, closing the bathroom door behind her. Just as the water started to run, there was a knock at the door. I ran to the bathroom door and opened it a crack. “Are you expecting someone?”

“Oh, is someone here?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s probably Marie. I told her she could raid my liquor stash.”

“All right,” I said, walking back to the door. When I opened it, though, I saw a familiar face. A very familiar face.

“Ronnie?” I asked; my entire face must have lit up like a lantern. I hadn’t seen her since the summer before I left for Norway.

“Wyatt?” she screeched, dropping her duffel bag to the ground, looking like she’d seen a ghost. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah, hey.”

“How? What? What are you doing here?” she asked, looking past me and stumbling on her words. “You’re back?”

“Yeah,” I said, confused. “I go to school here; started last fall. Didn’t Tilly tell you?”

“Um, no,” she said, looking annoyed and a little betrayed. “She didn’t.”

“Oh,” I said. Her words felt like a punch in the gut.

Tilly had promised to tell Ronnie about me weeks ago.

Weeksago.

“Can I come in?” Ronnie asked, pinching her eyebrows together.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” My chest tightened as she grabbed her bag from the ground and entered Tilly’s apartment.

“So, um,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor and placing her Big Gulp cup on the counter. “When did this happen?”

“Spring break, kind of.”

“Are you serious?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. She, um, showed up at my house.”

“That’s right,” Ronnie said with a half-smile. “I, uh…I remember that. But I never heard any more about it. I figured she chickened out and went home.”

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