Page 13 of When We Were Young

“Yep. I’ve got my eyes wide open this time.”

I lead her down the aisle, reluctantly let go of her hand, and move to the other side of the small setup I’ve prepared. A tiny blanket serves as a tablecloth on the floor, LED tea-light candles flicker, and a bottle of cheap fake champagne tops it off.

“Okay. You can open your eyes.”

Suddenly, I’m nervous, wondering if this is too much.

When Lizette opens her eyes and sees the setup, she says nothing. Her mouth opens and closes a few times as if she’s going to speak, but she doesn’t.

“See? It’s not a bad surprise. And it serves two purposes.”

There’s a little uncertainty in my voice now, and I wish she would say something. She relieves me from the hell of waiting for her response and looks up at me.

“What’s this?” she whispers. There’s no malice in her tone, just sincere confusion.

My heart races.

“Well, it’s a combination thing. I noticed you don’t really eat dinner when you’re here in the evenings. It seems like you don’t take a break. I’ve only seen you snack, and I think you need something more filling, so I brought you dinner. The candles and the champagne are to celebrate you kicking the ass of that math midterm you were sure you’d fail.”

She stares at the display and remains silent for what I’m sure is an eternity.

“Holden, you didn’t have to do all this. I’ll be fine without eating. I have crackers.”

“Nope, not gonna fall for that one. You need to eat something a little more substantial. Plus, it’s not like it’s anything fancy. It’s just peanut butter and jelly that I made. Oh, and I put a few banana slices in it because you told me you liked bananas.”

“That’s very sweet. But it really wasn’t necessary, and the test wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You studied your butt off for weeks. You conquered something that was challenging for you—something you said was different from how your brain naturally thinks. You went to battle with it and won. It’s something to celebrate.”

I sit on the ground, open the fake champagne, and pour us each a bit.

After a few seconds, Lizette sits, picks up a plastic champagne glass, and takes a sip.

The first smile since she saw the display spreads across her face.

“I love this stuff. When I was a teenager and got my first job, I used to buy it because I loved the taste and the bubbles.”

I can’t help but laugh.

“So, while most teenagers were trying to get adults to buy beer and cheap wine for them, you were stocking up on fake bubbly?”

A relaxed giggle escapes her, and my chest loosens up a little. She’s happy. And I realize that makes me happy.

“Yep. I’ve never actually been much of a drinker. I mean, I only turned twenty-two in July, so I haven’t been legally allowed to drink alcohol for very long.”

“Yeah. I’m not gonna lie and say I haven’t had my fair share of beer, but I don’t turn twenty-one until next June.”

She gasps and clutches at imaginary pearls.

I pick up my sandwich and take a bite, and while I’m chewing, she continues teasing me.

“You? The man who studies more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life breaks some rules?”

She reaches for her sandwich as I swallow the bite I just took. I debate whether I should say these next words to her, but I also don’t like to lie. Actually, I don’t lie, so I’m just going to say it.

“I haven’t always studied this much, Lizette.”

Her brow furrows. “Does that mean this semester’s classes are harder for you?”