The question surprises me. We never talk about my love life… because there’s never one to talk about.
“What about me?”
“Do you have a special girl in your life?”
“No.” It’s not technically a lie but also not the full truth. But if I told my mom about my current situation, she’d read into it when there’s no reason to. “Why?”
“You just seem happier lately.” She gives me a soft smile.
“Maybe I’m just hopeful that your next set of scans will bring good news.”
“Maybe.” Her voice trails off, but I see the look in her eye. A look I know well. A look that says, ‘We don’t have to talk about it right now, but I’ll get it out of you eventually.’
She always does.
Ididn’t expect to see you today.” Avalon stares at me as I stand in her doorway. “I thought you had Friendsgiving?”
“I do. I just thought you might be hungry.” I hold up a Wendy’s bag in one hand and a frosty in the other. “That maybe we’d have our own little Fucksgiving?”
She laughs, grabs the bag from me, and nods for me to come in.
“Fucksgiving?” Her forehead wrinkles.
“I don’t know; it was the first thing that came to mind. You’ve said it yourself, we aren’t friends, so Friendsgiving wouldn’t work.”
She jumps onto the counter and starts digging through the bag.
“How’d you know what I’d want?” Avalon pulls everything out of the bag.
I cross my arms across my chest and tilt my head at her. “Avalon, you get the same thing everywhere.”
“I do not!” she argues.
“Last week, we ordered post-sex food three times. Each time, you got a double cheeseburger, chicken nuggets with barbeque sauce, a large fry, and a chocolate shake.”
She pulls a fry out of the container and pops it into her mouth, studying me carefully.
“I don’t get that when I go to Chick-fil-A.” Now she crosses her arms, sitting up taller like she’s challenging me.
“If they had cheeseburgers, you would. You get a chicken sandwich in place of the burger. Everything else stays the same, even the nuggets.”
Her shoulders soften.
“Why do you know that?”
“I pay attention.” I grab my food and jump onto the opposite end of the counter. I can still feel her eyes on me as I take a big bite of my burger. “What?”
My mouth is still full, but she doesn’t seem to mind because she just smiles at me.
“You’re not at all who I thought you were.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I swallow.
“You’re a good guy, Zeke.”
“Thanks?”
I can’t tell if that’s a compliment; why would she think I wasn’t a good guy?