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He flinches like I’ve struck him and I regret it immediately. But instead of hitting me back with a deserved cutting response, his eyes dart between mine and he asks, ‘Is there something else going on with you?’
I can read you like a fucking book.
He’s going to know if I lie. But I haven’t survived this long by being vulnerable. In the end, I go for something in between. ‘Do you remember what you said to me the other day? You said you’d be whatever I wanted you to be. Did you mean that?’
I see the earnest man I met on that very first evening. ‘Of course.’
‘Well, I could really do with a friend right now. Like we were meant to be from the start.’ For half a minute all I pay attention to is the steady rise and fall of his chest. Eventually, the tension between us goes slack, marking his resignation in parallel with mine. My voice is level when I speak again. ‘I’m sorry for what I said. I like that you put your heart into things.’
I wish I could do that too.I watch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.
‘That’s okay. And I didn’t mean to make it seem like I thought your life was small or insignificant when I said you should come with me. So I’m sorry too. I was just,’ he sighs like he’s releasing an entire summer’s worth of stress, ‘clutching at straws. I like your life. I like being in it. I guess that’s what I was trying to say.’
‘I like you being in it too. But you’ll do well in San Francisco. You’ve wanted this for years.’ I let my knee touch his, tentative. He looks down and I wonder if he’ll pull away, but he presses his leg against mine in response.
‘Yeah, I have.’ His resolve sets in, and he sitsup a little straighter. ‘So I’ll accept the offer.’
‘And we’ll complete your bucket list like we planned. No stone left unturned.’ I sip my watery coffee, the ice almost completely melted by now.
He lifts his cup and taps it against mine in a toast. ‘No stone left unturned.’
His phone pings with a calendar notification and he looks across at me guiltily for a fraction of a second. But there’s a renewed excitement to the lift of his shoulders, to the tilt of his eyes, like he’s only just remembered what his plan is for today.
‘Go and see your dad. Tell him about San Francisco.’ When he catches my eye and smiles softly it feels like a truce. Like maybe we really can go back to how we were, if we try. If we pretend.
35
the healing powers of pizza and more
A V A
‘What do you meanhe’sleaving?’Josie flings crumbs everywhere as she anxiously snaps her pizza crusts.
‘Can you stop manhandling those? I thought we had an unspoken agreement that I get to eat your crusts.’ I’m sure Il Pulcinella is warded by magic, because I feel better just being here. Though it could just be the dough balls.
She slides the plate in my direction before lifting her glass, furiously slurping through her straw. After I’ve brushed her crumbs to the floor, she says, ‘Well? I think I must’ve misheard. Because it sounded a lot like you said Finn is moving to San Francisco in less than three weeks.’
I take a crust fragment and dip it in garlic butter. ‘Nope, you heard correctly.’Crunch.‘I always knew it was going to happen, just wasn’t sure when.’
For once I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but I can tell it’s turbulent in there. She blinks once, twice, three times before she speaks again. ‘And you’re completely fine with that?’
Crunch.‘I am. With everything going on with Max, it feels likegood timing that he won’t be around to add to the chaos. I have enough on my plate.’
‘This is terrible news,’ she says, leaning an elbow on the table and cupping her face in her hand. Her expression is tortured, which I feel is a bit much considering she’s only met the man a handful of times.
‘I didn’t realise he’d made such an impact on your life.’
‘I’m not talking aboutmy life,’ she hisses. She taps her fingers against her face, releasing the same distressed noises she makes when she’s trying to reach something on a high shelf. For a woman who’s never been speechless in her life, this inability to find the right words feels monumental. ‘I’m talking about the fact you so clearly like him. Does he know how you feel?’
‘I’ll miss him, but I’ll be fine.’ I ignore most of what she said. Inside, it feels like my heart’s being controlled by a puppeteer, not quite within my control.
Finn leaving is the best move for so many reasons. He wants new opportunities, new experiences, new connections, and I know, however hard we pretend, that he wants more than I could ever give. I also know that he’d never ask that of me, despite how much he deserves it. He can get thatmoresomewhere else, and I can stay here, living a quiet, chaos-free life where nothing is at risk. And we can be friends, just like we agreed.
‘Ava, you really need to work on expressing your emotions.’
‘No, I really don’t. Can’t express them if they’re not there.’ Any time I’ve shared emotions in the past, it’s left me feeling hollow and raw. Locking them away keeps them safe. I have so much going on in my head worrying about Max; the last thing I need is to try to untangle the complicated feelings I have for Finn too.
I’d expected him to glide into the shop today on his invisible jet stream and tell me all about his afternoon with his dad, but he didn’t come. This was good for my productivity, but bad for my feeling that our time is dwindling. He doesn’t seem like the type tohave his pride hurt over me essentially friendzoning him, but then, he is still a man.
