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“What?” I blink, lift my milkshake, and take a thick sip.
“That doesn’t take any confidence.”
My mouth opens. I shut it. Brow furrowed, I contemplate how it could possibly not take any confidence to share his music with so many people. I have panic attacks whenever I post a new chapter of my fanfiction online. To a paltry couple thousand. Under the username justaliteratepotato. No pictures. No connection to me.
I could delete my account tomorrow, and no one would ever know my secret shame.
He’s singing on camera with his real name front and center for millions.
“I do not understand,” I say at last. “You… How are you okay with revealing your feelings to so many people but not to the girl you like directly?”
His mouth opens.
I throw up a hand. “If you say it’s complicated one more time…”
“This part actually isn’t complicated.” He ruffles his hair. “I’m only singing to her. I don’t care about anyone else because it’s not for them. And she likes my music but has no idea it’s about her…so it’s entirely the opposite of confidence. It’s my way of telling her the things that would kill me to keep in without telling her anything at all.”
“Your friends were right.” I slurp my milkshake. “You do need an intervention.”
Chapter 6
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Immaterial nights and unembarrassing tales of woe.
If this were a real date, it would be the best date I’ve ever been on. Sure, it started awkward, but now that we seem to have warmed up to each other, it’s effortless. Being with another person, who isn’t my sister, has never been this welcoming before.
I feel perfectly at home.
And not just because this beautiful, beautiful man keeps giving me cheese fries as we walk aimlessly through the dark, on the side of the curb, watching stray cars pass, talking about everything in between soaking up the midnight silence.
I stuff a fry in my mouth, then suck the last of my banana milkshake down as I nudge Doliver’s side. “Siblings. Sorry. I interrupted you.” He was talking about…something. It was interesting. I was laughing. I can’t remember what it was now.
His head shakes. “No, you’re fine. What about siblings?”
“I have a sister.”
“Only one?”
I nod. “One’s enough. She’s crazy.” I bark a laugh. “I love her.”
A streetlight shines in his eyes, causing the warm brown shades to twinkle with flecks of gold. “I have six brothers.”
I choke on the air I’m still fruitlessly slurping up my straw. “Six? Are you…is your family…Catholic?”
“Is that an appropriate question in response to the information I’ve provided?”
“Is it not?” My eyes go wide. “Statistics say on average Catholic families are larger.”
He laughs. “No, we’re not Catholic.”
“Have I offended Catholics by asking?”
He bumps into my side. “How would I know? I’m not Catholic.”
Clearing my throat, I drop my empty cup into the designated garbage bag when he offers it. “I shall start over. Are you an all-male Von Trapp family, and where can I buy the band album?”
He chokes on his own milkshake, which is basically half a cup of soup at this point. It’s shocking how slow a slurper he is, but I’ll not mention it. Coughing, he shakes his head. “N-no, my brothers do not sing.”
