Undecided(56)

Eventually I blink, breathe, move. I’m collapsed over Crosbie Lucas, in the front seat of his car, on a public street, my bare ass on full display for whomever should walk by. And I really don’t care.

“Fuck, Nora,” he groans.

“I don’t think my legs work.”

“That was better than the last time, and I thought last time was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

I smile, exhausted, thrilled, flattered. “Same here.”

He meets my eye. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

He grins. I lift myself off and we spend the next couple of minutes trying to get dressed and repositioned in the cramped front seat. Eventually I’m back in place with my pants and shoes on, my jacket half zipped, and my hair retied in what I hope is an I-didn’t-just-have-sex ponytail.

Crosbie, on the other hand, has an incorrectly buttoned shirt, even more tousled hair, and what might be a hickey on the side of his neck. With the heated part of the night over, the cold air quickly creeps back in and I shiver. Crosbie reaches over to zip up my jacket to my chin. “Good night, Nora.”

“Good night, Crosbie.”

He leans over to kiss me, then pauses, touching his neck. “Did you give me a hickey?”

“I’m very sorry.”

He laughs and presses his lips to mine. “Classy.”

I gesture to our surroundings. “Couldn’t you tell?”

“I’ll see you soon.”

I clamber out of the car, hurrying up the sidewalk to the apartment. I climb the stairs and unlock the door, turning to wave as Crosbie pulls away from the curb and watches until I’m inside. I toe off my sneakers and head up to the living room where Kellan sits on the couch, one leg propped up on the coffee table, a bag of melting ice draped over his ankle. He’s alone.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He doesn’t look away from the game. I think he’s trying to blow up a sewer.

I’m nearly in my room when I hear a loud bang, then silence, then my name. I turn slowly to see Kellan setting down the controller, his game paused. “Can I ask you a question?”

I try not to look guilty. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but your friend Marcela…is there any chance she’s crazy?”

I nod somberly. “Yes.”

He purses his lips. “Figures.” A pause. “Is she good in the sack?”

“Kellan, that is not a thing I would know.”

“Worth a shot.”

“What makes you ask?” I say. “About the crazy thing?”

He scratches his chin. “We were texting for a bit, and I thought things were going pretty good, then she asked if I had a turkey recipe.”

I cough out a laugh. “Do you?”

“Of course I do. I’m the youngest of four boys. Who do you think got stuck helping in the kitchen?”

I cover my mouth. “You didn’t tell her that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“But you thought she was crazy!”

“She’s hot, Nora. That makes up for a lot of things.”

I shake my head. “This is a mistake, Kellan. And if you end up with a broken heart, I don’t want to hear about it.”

He draws a cross on his chest. “I promise I won’t say a word. And speaking of broken hearts, where were you tonight?”

“The library.”

Kellan’s not fooled. “Your bag’s in your room. So are your books.”

“Well, I was just…reading.”

“Yeah. Somebody’s dick.”

“Kellan!” I snatch a stray ketchup packet from the breakfast bar and hurl it at his head. It smacks into the wall and falls behind the couch as he roars with laughter.





chapter fourteen


When Open Mic Night at Beans rolls around a couple weeks later, Kellan is still focused on the subject of my “reading partner.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Kellan nudges me hard enough I lose my balance and have to catch myself on the back of a chair before I fall over. He’s referring to a middle-aged man in a blue suit with an anchor embroidered on the breast. I’m pretty sure he’s the father of one of the performers. And a ship’s captain.

“No!” I snap, shoving him away. “He’s not here.”

“He’s definitely here.” He folds his arms across his chest and surveys the dim room dramatically. “And I’m going to find him.”

I roll my eyes. “If you say so.” To date he’s considered all of my professors, our eighty-year-old neighbor Ted, and three of the line cooks at the Chinese place on campus, but he’s never once contemplated Crosbie.

Speaking of which. “Have you seen Crosbie?” I ask, frowning as I peer around the crowded space. “He’s not up for a bit, but…”

Kellan pulls his phone out of his pocket and squints at the display. No missed calls or texts.

“Do you not have any friends?” I inquire politely.

He makes a face at me. “Shut up. You know who I’m ‘friendly’ with at the moment.”

Now I make a face. “Spare me.”