Once and for All(85)
CHAPTER
24
THIS WAS better. Of course it was.
“Are you going to finish that?” Ben asked, nodding at the last of the doughnut on my plate. This was a running joke, testament both to his bottomless appetite and the fact we always ended up eating together. Almost three weeks of dating, and these things happen. It was all normal, exactly how it was supposed to go.
“Go ahead,” I said, pushing it over to him.
He grinned, then picked it up, taking a bite. “The day you deny me your leftovers, I’ll know we’re finished.”
“That’s how you’ll know?” I asked. “You’ll miss every other sign?”
“Food is my language,” he explained, sipping his iced coffee. “That’s the way it works with us stubborn types. We miss other, normal cues.”
Another inside thing between us: how we referred to his tenaciousness in asking me, and actually getting me, to go out with him. Already, we had A Story, our own folklore: that semester of Western Civ, just friends, followed by the Lin wedding and then multiple attempts to get together, all thwarted by his schedule or mine. Finally, he saw me driving home one night, pulled a U-turn, and followed me to the next intersection, where he texted me an invite for a slice of pizza. I went, we ate, then kissed, and the rest was . . . well, this.
It was nice, the kind of story you wanted to tell, but I couldn’t help but recognize the tiny cracks in our origin tale’s foundation that only I could see. Like how on That Night I’d been coming from Maya and Roger’s wedding, still reeling from everything Ambrose had said to me. The fact that when I got Ben’s text at that light, I was typing back no before I realized he was right behind me. Small details, I knew, not really part of the outcome. And that was what mattered, anyway, the fact that we’d ended up together, over two slices, everything unfolding in a normal way. No instant dislike, dragging across parking lots, stealing of dogs and other annoying behavior, not a single weird bet or secret left unrevealed too long. If our relationship was a wedding, it would have been proceeding Just Fine, with no surprises or real problems. Unlike me and Ambrose and whatever we might have been, most assuredly a Disaster.
So, yes. This was good. And I didn’t have to worry about dating other people, because I’d won the bet. Though it didn’t feel like much of a victory. It didn’t feel like anything.
“You have foam on your nose,” Ben said now, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “It’s super cute. Let’s snap a pic.”
I made myself smile as I settled in against him, focusing my gaze on the tiny circle on his phone that was the camera. Ben was big into documentation of us on his Ume.com page and other social media sites. The first few times I’d scrolled through his feed and seen so much of my own face it had been alarming, although now I thought it was cute. Most of the time, anyway.
“Man,” he said, sliding his phone back in his pocket as I checked my watch out of habit, even though I wasn’t expected at work. “That woman sure can talk. Does she really think we need to hear about her lab results?”
I followed his gaze over my shoulder, where Phone Lady, at the next table, was indeed deep in conversation with someone about a recent “scan and blood draw, ordered by the doctor, and you know that’s never good.” I hadn’t even heard her until now, which said something about my level of attention. “She’s always does that,” I told him. “I think it’s like therapy for her, or something.”
“Sharing her most personal details with the coffee-buying public?”
“I didn’t say I understood it,” I said. “I’m just reporting the facts.”
He smiled at me: three for three inside jokes in one meal. This one he’d first said to me that night at the pizza place. That he knew we were both going off to school soon, and it was probably not a good time to get involved, but that he’d been thinking about me nonstop and had to take a shot anyway. “I’m not pressuring you,” was his exact phrasing, “but these are the facts.” Another tiny imperfection, how I had rephrased his words, but close enough.
Which, really, would be the name I’d give our relationship, not that I could ever say it aloud. We weren’t madly in love yet, but I liked him a lot. It wasn’t exactly epic, but we had a story. Not totally perfect, but, well, close enough. And I hadn’t expected that anyway, from him or any other guy, really. You only get so many sunset walks.
As I thought this, Ben leaned forward, surprising me with a quick kiss. I jumped, startled: I was still adjusting to this aspect of him, a kind of dive-bomb affection that was cute, really. At the moment, I was quite aware of Leo, behind the nearby counter, who’d been shooting me looks ever since we’d arrived for breakfast a half hour earlier. Ben had ordered for us, sparing me direct contact, for which I had been grateful. As he headed for the bathroom, though, Leo made a beeline right for me.
“I have to admit,” he said, in a dramatic way that made me suspect he’d planned what he was going to say ahead of time, “I’m surprised.”
I looked around the busy shop: other customers, pastry display, Phone Lady now talking about her difficulties with her mother. “About what?”
He nodded toward the men’s room. “You’re here with someone who isn’t Ambrose. Kind of weird, considering he dumped my best friend for you.”