Pathetic. How could I hope to convince my roommates when I couldn’t even convince myself? I opted for a quick shower and was dressed and ready downstairs in under the promised ten minutes.
The theater was only half full, and I picked the seats while Alex got the popcorn and sodas. He found me just as the ads came on screen. When the movie started, I was instantly drawn in – I’m a sucker for sci-fi, and this was the continuation of a series I’d fallen in love with back in high school in Pennsylvania.
When the movie ended, Alex’s arm was on the back of my seat, halfway between being around me and just resting there. I didn’t protest, but was relieved he didn’t try one of the clumsy kisses I’d fended off for years from boys back home. We exited the theater and made small talk about the movie, and he suggested we go up the street for ice cream.
“How can I say no to that?” I asked.
“No reason to,” he said.
We walked slowly to an old-fashioned ice cream parlor that could have stepped out of the 1950s. We ordered a couple of vanilla cones and sat eating them on red vinyl stools.
“What’s your story, Lacey? I don’t know that much about you other than you’re in my class,” he said.
I shrugged. “Not a lot to tell. Small-town girl goes away to better herself. You can probably fill in the blanks.”
“How come you didn’t just go to a regular college? You’re smart enough. I can tell.”
I shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really know it was an option. When I was in high school, all I really wanted was to not be in high school. I took the bare minimum classes required, did OK in them but nothing spectacular, and then…I guess I just figured I’d get a job when I graduated.”
“And there were no jobs?”
“Oh, there were. Sort of. If I hadn’t worked in a restaurant, I probably could have worked at the gas station. Or maybe the convenience store. And then it occurred to me I should have spent the last few years actually learning something. All the colleges I looked at had entrance requirements I couldn’t make – two years of a foreign language, two more years of math, stuff like that.”
“You never had a guidance counselor or anyone tell you what classes to take?”
I laughed, picturing Mr. Wainwright. “Our guidance counselor was busy with kids skipping classes or smoking pot. Nobody was planning on college.”
“So how did you find this place?”
“My stepmom went here, ages ago. Kind of a similar story, actually – bright enough, but never did much in high school, and then needed a bridge program to help her take the next step. Which, in the end, she never did. She married my dad instead, and less than a year later, he died. Cancer.”
“Oh, wow. That must have been tough. Is your mother… I mean, your…”
He was probably struggling not to say real mother. I put him out of his misery. “My actual mother died giving birth to me. So we never met. My stepmom… I like her, she’s good people, but we’re not super close. My final years of high school, when my dad was gone, we were more like roommates. But she did find me this place.”
“Did you…is there anyone back home waiting for you?”
The question was so carefully worded I had to laugh. The expression on his face told me I shouldn’t have. I grew serious and took another bite of my cone. “Just my stepmom. Although I’m not sure she’s really waiting.”
“Nobody else?”
I locked eyes with him. “You mean a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”
He looked down. “Something like that.”
I sighed. “No. How about you?”
“I haven’t seen anyone I’m really interested in. I mean, well, you know.”
A doubt suddenly occurred to me. I debated how to frame the question I wanted to ask, and then just blurted it out. “Did you send the flowers, Alex?”
His eyes widened. “I told you, a gentleman never–”
“Cut the crap,” I warned, an edge to my voice. “Did you, or didn’t you?”
He exhaled and averted his gaze again. “No. I…I don’t know why I sort of gave the impression…I…”
“You didn’t give the impression,” I snapped. “You basically took credit for it.”
“I never outright claimed I sent them,” he tried, but it sounded lame. “Okay. Look, haven’t you ever done something on an impulse and immediately wished you could take it back? That’s what happened. All I can say is I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything.”
My temper subsided almost as quickly as it had risen. Alex sounded genuinely contrite, and I’d also done my share of things I wished I could undo. Going off with Luke came to mind, and with it, a vision of Jared’s face. Which was the last thing I wanted to think about, having successfully forgotten about him for a few hours.
I stood and tossed the remainder of my cone in the trash. “I should probably be getting back.”
“Lacey…”
“Alex, it’s been a tiring day. I had a good time at the movie, and I enjoyed the ice cream, but…I want to go home.”
We walked to the car and drove back to Ridley in uncomfortable silence. When I climbed from the passenger seat, I’d calmed myself, and I turned to him before closing the door. “Alex, I don’t like what you did with the flowers, but you were honest in the end, and that counts for a lot.”
“Can we just forget the whole thing? I’m really sorry, and if I could take it back…” His voice trailed off like he’d run out of air.
I closed my eyes for a second and nodded. “It’s forgotten. It isn’t a big deal.”
“I…I’m sorry I pissed you off.”
That drew a harsh laugh from me. “Oh, Alex. Trust me. You’d know if you’d really pissed me
