Page 83 of Late Fees

“Nope. We got clobbered,” she said, shaking her head with an awkward giggle. “We didn’t stand a chance, and it was a little embarrassing. I got stuck in one of those roller things where you had to push yourself through to grab the flag—I had nightmares about it for days after. And then Kelly had to stick her hand up the giant nose. Do you remember that?”

“Oh, right,” I said with a laugh. “That was gross.”

“Yeah. Not nearly as fun as it seems on television. I can say that with certainty.”

“So, you never got to go to space camp?”

“Nope, my family couldn’t afford it. But, my parents took Kelly and me to a science museum where they put you in that simulator machine so you can experience what it feels like to blast off.”

“Oh, yeah? What happened?”

She paused for a second. “I puked my guts out. Like everywhere. They had to shut down the exhibit for an hour to get it all cleaned up.”

“For real?” I asked, holding back laughter, not wanting to take pleasure in her misery, but it was hard to resist. “How have I never heard this before?”

“No idea,” she said with a chuckle. “Probably because I was too ashamed to tell my boyfriend all about one of the worst days of my young life.”

“But now?”

“But now, it feels like it was a million years ago, so I guess it’s fine. Not that I planned on telling you that…I just…geez, I’m rambling.”

“I think it’s cute.”

She pursed her lips together, rubbing her hand against her heart. A shallow sigh left my lips as we approached the 7-Eleven. The parking lot was empty, but a few guys on skateboards lingered on the curb.

“Hey, man,” one of them said. “Buy us some beer?”

“I’m not twenty-one.” I shrugged.

“Dayum,” the other said, shaking his head. “Where are all the old people?”

Tilly laughed, and I opened the door for her. We beelined back to the Slurpee machine. “Oh, no,” Tilly said as we approached. A large sign read Out of Order, and it was like someone had poured a cold bucket of water right on top of our heads.

“So much for that,” she said, scratching the back of her neck.

“Pop machine is still working. Why don’t we get something else?”

“But…our thing. It’s the Slurpees.”

“So, we can have a new thing. A different thing. Seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to get all poetic or whatever, but we can never go back, Till.”

“I know that, believe me,” she said, her words slightly acerbic.

“I just mean that—”

“I know,” she said, placing her hand on my forearm. “I get it. A fresh start.”

“Right.” I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. The idea of a fresh start with Tilly was almost more than I could have ever hoped for. I just hoped it was within reach.

“So, what sounds good to you?” I asked, walking toward the pop machine that had at least a dozen to choose from.

“They have Cherry Coke,” she said, raising one eyebrow.

I shook my head. “Been there, done that. What else should we try?”

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