It might take me a while to respond sometimes, but you can always say hi. You don’t have to miss me first.
You can say hi too
He sends a smiley face, and I swim away from my phone, another few laps doing what they can to calm whatever just got kicked up again. My leg feels great, and I think the rest of me is getting there. By the time I climb out of the pool, I’m steady enough to spend a few minutes appreciating the ocean view I’d shared with Mateo, and I think Harper and I should have dinner out here tonight.
She brings Kate back with her, and the three of us enjoy the fresh air.
The next day I say hello to Mateo because he told me I could, and I’m helpless.
He says hello to me, too.
Our next several messages are so simple—boring, maybe—but nobody who’s kissed me has ever wanted simple before. It’s overwhelming to think about a future so unlike the one I had when millions praised or cursed me, and I let the heavy quiet of it keep me company each night as I fall asleep. It’s as easy to hold on to as the blanket that shielded Mateo and me from the ocean air and my very famous name.
When Sunday morning rolls around, I decide it’s as good a time as any to have a conversation that could’ve happened twenty years ago. On every intellectual level, I’m remarkably calm. Nothing will change for the worse after today, and maybe we’ll both be relievedto stop pretending we’ve never kept this open secret.
Physically, though. Physically, my body’s not entirely sure it wants to be upright long enough for me to shower. I’m shaking when I fasten my jeans and tug an old t-shirt over my head. I don’t even consider trying to eat breakfast when my coffee barely stays down. My phone becomes dangerous company when I use it to scroll through years of escapades that have come and gone, but Harper isn’t here to distract me from my worst habits, and it’s not her responsibility in the first place.
I haven’t let myself consider what this conversation would look like if I were having it with her.
Will.Willlook like.WhenI have it with her. Because if everything goes well the next time I see Mateo, she and I will need to sit down with a lot more string cheese.
Intent on leaving some of my bullshit behind, I give up on trying to settle everything inside me before I go. I’m in my car before I think about it more than that, and blast one of my pregame playlists because it feels right. Parking near Kai’s feels right too, even if another wave of nausea tries to convince me otherwise.
The bar isn’t open yet, so I text when I’m headed toward the alley. I don’t remember the last time I hung out with Kai with nobody else around, and I’m grateful for the privacy we’ll have this morning. I'm also grateful he'll be busy with inventory and kitchen prep.
“Two weekends in a row?” Kai says, pushing the back door open just enough for me to catch it and follow him back inside. “What’s the special occasion?”
“I’ve got plans for a third.”
He’s moving quickly, but I’ve said enough for him to throw a look over his shoulder. “Alone or with someone?”
“With someone.”
“Keep talking.”
Kai doesn’t stop walking until we’re in the bar’s kitchen. I move to lean against a stack of food crates that seems to always be here, even if I’m sure they come and go, but he waves for me to sit on the counter. He disappears into cold storage, but he’s back by the time I continue.
“It will probably be Saturday night, and I know you’ll be slammed.”
“Absofuckinglutely,” he laughs, eggs, cheese, and bacon tossed next to me. “But if you’re bringing a plus one, it doesn’t matter what I’m up to, does it?”
“I meant ‘you’ as in the bar, not ‘you’ as inyou.”
“Ah, of course. Because if you wanted to talk tome, you’ve got my number, my email, my home address, all my socials, my passwords, my birth date, my blood type—”
“Some of those have nothing to do with talking to you,” I interrupt. “But you’ve made your point, and I know I suck. I suck now and I’ve sucked for at least the past five years.”
Kai laughs again and warms a couple of skillets. “Atleast. But seriously, you’re here. Talk.”
“Last week, after I left—”
“With your damsel in distress.”
“He was definitely not that,” I snort. “But yes, I dragged him with me when I ran.”
He’s busy with a few different things on the stove, but he could handle them in his sleep. “And then you didn’t let him back in.”
I nod because Kai knows this much. I’d paid him back for the half-drunk beers and the food Mateo and I never ate. And because I’d felt the need to explain something, I’d told Kai that Mateo and I had been mid-conversation and decided to grab tacos while we finished talking. It’s strange when the truth fails to capture anything honest.