The only guy who’s ever come over to my house is Joel. And one wonderful night, briefly, Andy Cooper stood in front of my house and I hoped he would kiss me. So you can imagine my surprise when, while I still sit with my parents watching some horrible infomercial that we’ve all gotten sucked into, a car stops in front of our house that I immediately recognize.
“Who’s that?” Mom asks as she looks out the window and sees Colin getting out of his car.
“That? Oh, uh, just a friend,” I say, getting up and stumbling over the ottoman.
“Joel?” Dad asks looking over at Mom. Mom shakes her head quickly.
“Let him in,” Mom says.
“No, Mom,” I say, “he’s just . . .”
“A friend,” she finishes. I notice the slightest hint of a smile in the corners of her mouth.
“Yes,” I say. “And I’m not letting him in. He already thinks I’m enough of a freak without meeting you guys.”
The doorbell rings, and I open the door.
Colin is in a fresh white T-shirt and jeans. His hair has been slicked back anew.
“What’s up?” I say, stepping outside and closing the door behind me. “What are you doing here?”
“Now there’s gratitude for you. You drag me around town all night long and not even a hello?”
I cringe a little at having my social disgraces pointed out this way. “Sorry. You’re right. Hello,” I say.
“Hello,” he says. He’s holding something behind his back. He brings his arm forward and casually reveals a red flower.
“For you,” he says.
A rose. This is when a girl should graciously take the flower and coyly sniff it. Robyn’s voice rings in my ears, and I try to be these things, but I’m not.
And so I just stand there, looking at it, and say nothing.
He shakes his head and laughs. Before I can say anything, he lets the flower fall to the ground and crushes it with his black sneaker.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be like that,” I say.
“Relax,” he says, smiling wickedly. “I thought it’d be fun to see how you’d react.”
“And you behaved quite Frenchie-esque. That is to say, horribly and exactly as I predicted.”
“Well, thanks for that,” I say as I salvage the few petals from the ground that didn’t get crushed, and hold them in my hand. “I’m a jerk,” I say.
“Actually,” he says as he sits down on the top step. I sit down next to him and notice how soapy he smells. “I did bring you something.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a small button. The design on it is a black skull with red, pink, and green roses perched on the cranium. “I thought this would be more you,” he says.
I admire the button. “This is cool,” I say.
“Yeah, well I’ve always been into the whole Día de los Muertos art. I picked that up a while ago, but when I saw it on my dresser today, it reminded me of you.” He shrugs. “Anyway, thought you might like it,” he says.
I don’t think I’ve ever held anything so perfectly me in my hand before, but I am now, and I’m touched and surprised at how happy this little button is making me.
“I love it,” I say. “Thanks a lot.”
He nods and wipes his palms on his jeans. “So, how’d you sleep?”
“Okay, I guess,” I say.
“Do you get your best rest in cemeteries?” he asks.
I stop staring at the button in my palm and look at Colin. “How’d you know?”
“You didn’t seriously think I was just going to leave you there by yourself all night?” he asks.
“You watched me?”
He looks down and I think he looks a little flustered as he rubs the back of his neck. I kind of enjoy his discomfort. “I was just making sure you were okay. I left once I saw you heading home.” He looks at me, locking his eyes with mine, trying to read my reaction and I notice how his light brown eyes look brighter, almost hazel in this light, even though he apparently didn’t get any sleep last night.
“Listen,” he says. “I know you’re probably all offended because you can take care of yourself and all that. But I was worried, so I hung around.”
I nod because although my first reaction is to show how unappreciative I can be, I actually do appreciate it.
“Now if you please, I’m tired as hell and could use a quadruple shot of espresso . . . minus your lecture.” He grins.
I can’t help but smile. “All right,” I say. “But just let me get some money.”
“My treat,” he says.
“No way, not after what I put you through. I owe you.”
“Okay, just give me a minute,” I say. I get up and run to my room. And then I do the most unnatural thing I’ve ever done. I grab Em’s book of poems from my night table and open it. I place the petals in it and close the book before heading back outside.
“I’ll be back later,” I tell my parents.
“Uh . . . French?” Mom says as I reach the front door.
“Yeah?” I turn and look at her.
She shakes her head. “Forget it. Just . . . have fun.”
I nod and shut the door.
“Damn, you’re stubborn,” Colin says.
“I know,” I say and start heading down the street toward Harold’s, but Colin stops me and says, “No, no. Get in the car.”
“What? Why?”
“No questions allowed. Just get in. Today I take you on an adventure.”
“Last night wasn’t adventurous enough for you?”
“No, not really,” he says. “Just get in.” And he holds the car door open for me.
I get in his car and he shuts the door and runs around to his side. He looks over at me and flashes me a smile as he starts the car. I’m nervous and weirded out, and part of me feels like running out of the car and going back into my dark room. But I don’t. More of me wants to stay and see what happens next.
“Yeah,” I say. “I think so.”
He makes a U-turn and heads down the street, in the opposite direction of the cemetery.
We go to a French café in Winter Park. It has the best croissants I’ve ever had and a cappuccino so foamy and sweet that I wonder why I’ve never thought to order something like it before.
“Do you like it?” Colin asks.
“I do. This place is great,” I say.
He nods. Then he sighs.
“Listen, I know you’re dealing with stuff,” he says. “I don’t want you to think I’m this insensitive prick or anything. I mean, I know . . . or, I don’t know, but I understand.”
“I know you do,” I say.
Now I feel nervous and somewhat humiliated. Here in the light, away from the cover of last night’s darkness, I feel oddly exposed. It’s hard for me not to keep looking away from him. He knows all about these last few months, how I’ve been feeling, and all about Andy—things no one else knows. As I got caught up in the blurred line between two nights, it had all made sense; me chasing a ghost and crying in front of Colin and inexplicably plunging into a deep, dark ocean. But today is different. Today is not last night, and I’m not sure who Colin and I are outside it.
“It’s just that last night seems so . . .” I can’t explain it.
Colin watches me and nods.
“I mean, did it even happen? In some ways, it doesn’t even seem like that was me. You know?”
“Right, like we were watching it happen.”
“Exactly! So, it’s just funny now, being here with you.”
“And you,” he says. He looks at me and I look away and kind of laugh.
“We sound like idiots,” I say.
He smiles. “Maybe. But, I hope we can do this more?” he asks. I like the way his voice goes up at the end of that sentence. And I like the idea of getting to know Colin outside of last night.
“Yes. I think so,” I say and smile.
“Cool,” he says. He laughs, which I’m beginning to realize is his nervous laughter.