He sighs. “Whatever, man. I’m not your career counselor. I’m just one buddy looking out for another when I see him starting to go down a dark path.”
“I don’t need you looking out for me. I’m fine.”
“Are you? You don’t look it. Frankly, you look like hell.”
“Aw, shucks.”
“Just calling it like I see it. Obviously you’re not coping well with everything that’s happened. But now that Valentine is back… maybe it’s a chance for you to move forward. That girl was crazy about you for years. I’m sure that hasn’t gone away, even if you haven’t spoken in a while.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Tomlinson.”
“Then explain it to me.”
My beer is almost empty. I signal the waitress for another. She smiles brightly as she bounces toward the bar, her dark ponytail swinging with each step. “There’s no point talking about something I can’t change.”
“How do you know it wouldn’t change things? If you told her what happened—”
“This is none of your fucking business!” I bark a shade too loudly. Several tourists’ heads whip around toward our table, curiosity in their stares. I lower my tone. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such an ass about this. It’s just…”
“Don’t apologize. I should know better by now. Where Jo Valentine is concerned, you’ve never been able to keep your cool.”
The waitress delivers my beer. I give her a nod of thanks before downing a large gulp. Chris watches me drink, not touching his own glass. He eventually clears his throat to break the silence. “You know, you don’t seem surprised to hear she’s back in town.”
“Was that a question?”
“Just an observation.”
I set down my half-empty glass. “I saw her last week.”
“Seriously?! What did she say?”
“I never said I talked to her. Isawher. Out sailing around the islands one afternoon.”
“Oh.”
“Mmm.”
“I’m glad you know she’s in town. I didn’t want you blindsided if you bumped into her on a street corner or something. Small town and all — you know how it is.”
“I do.”
We’re silent for a moment, sipping our beers without speaking. Eventually, Chris shifts the conversation into safer waters — smalltalk about his new job on the police force, a brief rundown of a few teammates’ summer plans. The latest gossip surrounding our former Exeter Academy classmates.
Lee Park founded a tech startup out in San Francisco.
Ryan Snyder flunked out of school first semester.
Andy Hilton came out of the closet.
Sienna Sullivan got fake tits.
I listen with a detached sort of interest, nodding along as if these people are still a vital part of my life. In truth, they feel as far removed from me as fictional characters in a novel. One I read so long ago, the plot is moth-eaten with holes, the details faded to an indistinct blur.
When we finally pay the check, Chris stands and reaches out for a handshake.
“It was good to catch up with you, Reyes. Don’t be a stranger.”
I clasp my scarred hand around his, struggling to hide my wince when he squeezes tight. “You know where to find me.”