I notice the way Kristen is sitting so that she’s facing Vincent more than she’s facing the table. It reminds me of how Hannah would sit with me at the camp picnic tables. I liked being the center of her attention. She made me feel seen, like we were the only two people in the world.
She could still make you feel that way.
“They’ve been teaching skate lessons too,” Kristen adds. “Mr. Fuller is going to help them publicize.”
“Neat.” Not that I care much for skating, publicity, or Vincent and his friends. But I’m conversing. I’m trying.
“You should come,” Vincent says.
We stare at each other.
“When is it?”
“First weekend of October,” he says, his smile more genuine. “It’s gonna be sick, yo.”
“Dude, good looks, inviting more girls to the show,” one of Vincent’s friends cuts in, holding up his fist for Vincent to bump. I didn’t even know he’d been listening to our conversation, since he’s mostly had his back turned. I recognize him from his shaggy shoulder-length hair and lip ring, but I don’t remember his name.
“Shut up, man. I invited one chick. And it ain’t even like that,” Vincent says, throwing a piece of pepperoni at his friend.
“You’re whipped, Vinny,” Chris, his friend who got suspended in eighth grade, chimes in.
“Even if I waswhipped, it’s better than being single like your punk asses,” Vincent teases, laughing.
Kristen and I share a look as one of his friends leans across the table to knock his snapback off his head. Kristen sips broth from her soup—always the one eating hot soup before the leaves change—the steam fogging her glasses. Something in her eyes changes, and when she glances at Vincent and then back at me, I can see the wheels turning inside her head.
“I know what we should do,” she says, tapping Vincent to get his attention.
“What, babe?” he asks before picking up his pizza and taking an unnecessarily huge bite.
“We should find Clarity a boyfriend.”
“No” shoots out of my mouth without me even thinking. I feel my face getting hot.
They both look at me, surprised.
“I mean, I’m fine being single right now. It’s not a big deal,” I add, hoping I wasn’t suspicious.
“Okay, but you don’thaveto be single. Plus, this is our senior year. There are Friday night football games, dances,andthe Squash the Pumpkin Festival!” she explains, looking up as she imagines all these date opportunities.
“Ugh, no,” Vincent moans, covering his face with his hands.
“Whiiiiiiiipped,”Chris teases.
“Mind your business.” Vincent pretends to sound serious, pointing a finger at Chris. It’s funny andalmostmakes me laugh.
“Clarity, come on. This is our year. We could go on double dates,” Kristen argues.
“I don’t need a boyfriend.”
“Okay, then at least a date to the Squash the Pumpkin Festival. I can’t bear the thought of you being alone on the sidelines for our senior year,” she insists.
I almost counter by reminding her that we always go together, but then my eyes settle on herandVincent—herboyfriend. Right. This year I will be on the sidelines during the pumpkin chucking. It’s tradition for the high school couples to do a round of chucking together.
Kristen and Vincent glance at each other. Then at me. Finding a date to the festival is so far down on my list of concerns for this semester that it is nonexistent.
Or maybe I just assumed Hannah and I would go together—
I cut that train of thought off before a montage of our imaginary relationship can kick up in my mind. Unfortunately, as Ilook between Kristen and Vincent, I can see how realistic they think this compromise is.