“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said. He took another bite of his food and chewed it, very slowly. He swallowed and flashed me a thin smile. “One day I got home after class and my mom was gone. She had just moved out, moved all of her stuff, and sent me a text message telling me she would see me soon.”
“Just like that?”
“Yup,” he replied. “And then she never answered my calls for about a year.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “That sounds like a nightmare.”
He smiled. “I mean, I was devastated at first. But then I realized, you know, she’s gotta deal with her own shit. It made me grow up quickly, which I guess was necessary.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to say that. I know that you thought it.”
I laughed, cutting one of my sausages with my fork. “I plead the fifth.”
“This is not a courtroom. I demand an answer.”
“Well, you’ll get an answer when you ask me a question.”
He thought for a few seconds. I took the time to savor my food, saying nothing, staring at his face. I could see a scar on his eyebrow that I had never seen before, cutting across the side, deep into his skin. It was impossible for hair to grow there, so his eyebrow looked incomplete, like he had sliced it off himself. I could also see a smattering of new freckles on his nose over his skin, which still looked mostly the way I remembered. Most of him looked the way I remembered, soft and handsome all at once, though he had grown into his features.
His nose was still strong and straight, except for a little bump in it that seemed new and gave him some character. There were other scars too, from where I was, it was hard to see what they were from. I wasn’t going to ask.
“Do you like it?” he asked, looking right into my eyes.
I swallowed my food, followed with a sip of coffee. “Do I like what?”
“Being a doctor. Do you like it?”
“Yes, I like it,” I replied. “I like it a lot. It’s challenging, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”
“Right,” he said. “It must be nice to have a calling.”
I smiled. Finished with my coffee, I stared at him. “What about you?” I asked. “What do you do with your life now?”
He shook his head. “Petty crime, mostly.”
“Are you going to tell me more about that?”
I shook my head. “No. The less you know the better.”
“Does that have anything to do with the first injury you showed up with?”
“Yes. It does. And the second one.”
Finished with my food, I pushed the empty plates away from me. “It seems dangerous.”
“Well, I’m not doing it for fun.”
“Is it at least profitable?”
“Yes,” he said. “But sometimes, it doesn’t feel worth it. In any case, I’m getting breakfast.”
“Clearly crime pays.”
He laughed. “Yes,” he said. “Clearly, it does.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
2019
“Is this where you live?” I asked as I peered at the large apartment building I was dropping him off in front of. It was painted in an off-yellow color and the bottom of the building was discolored. I could see heaps of trash around it, too, even though the dumpster was only steps away.
He looked at me. “No, of course not, I only brought you here because I’m embarrassed of where I actually live.”
I winced. “Okay, I guess I deserve that.”
“You definitely deserve that.”
“I thought you said crime paid.”
He laughed. “I didn’t say paid well. I would invite you upstairs, but it’s a mess.”
“What makes you think I’m going upstairs?”
“Wishful thinking. I didn’t actually think you were going to go upstairs.”
I rolled my eyes. “You couldn’t think that was going to work. You’re smarter than that.”
He smiled. “Maybe I’m not.”
“I want to make something really clear. We might be able to be friends, but it’s never going to go further than that. I can get over what happened when we were kids, but I won’t be with somebody who’s ashamed of me. I learned that lesson.”
“Do you think I’m ashamed of you?” He said, sounding really concerned.
“I don’t know. But you were back then, and I’m not willing to open myself up to that again.”
“Who would be ashamed of you? You’re incredible. You’re smart and beautiful and—”
“Fat. I’m fat. Say it, it’s not a dirty word,” I said. “That was the reason you were ashamed of me in the first place, wasn’t it?”
“I was a stupid kid.”
“I know. So was I, but I haven’t changed, not really. I still look the same—”
“And you still act the same,” he said, shaking his head. “So, if anything, you should be the one who is ashamed of me.”
“What?”
“A petty criminal who keeps going into the hospital with stupid injuries,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you be ashamed of me?”
I looked him up and down. “I don’t know. I think you’re probably really good arm candy?”
“That’s right. I do have my strengths,” he said, with a smile. “And I am marginally less stupid than I was when I was a kid.”
“Marginally?”
“I don’t want to oversell it,” he replied. “Thank you for breakfast. Really. I had fun.”
“Yeah,” I said. “So did
