We dig in and smile at each other over the crust and cherry-rhubarb filling, and it’s one of the best moments of my life.
34
7 Days
Colter and I slip into a cruddy yellow booth that looks ten years old. My thighs burn as I slide them across the hard bench. A tear in the plastic scratches my leg before I settle in place across from him. I make the mistake of looking up at The Pizza Shoppe’s fixtures. They have a mile of dirt packed on them. I shift in my seat to avoid getting any particles on my clothes. We’re on a date again. This time to help his brother.
Colter unfolds the menu and huddles behind it, so I do the same.
I peek around my menu. “Where is your brother, and why are we hiding when this girl doesn’t know who we are?” I whisper.
His head pops out the side of his menu. “She knows who I am. Atticus is coming. Act incognito.”
I give him a wry look.
“You know what I mean.”
I move back behind my menu and watch as Atticus slides in next to his brother. His hair looks like it’s been slicked back with grease and he’s biting his lip. His T-shirt has a picture of hipster glasses with no lenses and it says DIE in big red letters.
I suppress a laugh. I like this kid.
I lower my menu. “I don’t think she can see me, guys.”
Colter lowers his and looks at me like I’m ruining the big plan. He glances at Atticus’s hair and musses it up a bit, causing the pieces to stick in different directions. One of the older servers, who looks like she lived when George Washington was president, takes our drink and breadstick order before we go into hiding again.
I notice a group of younger brunette girls a few tables over across the restaurant. One is giggling at something her friend said to the geriatric server. The giggling one has short-cropped hair and a smile that could freeze all of hell. Her friend has long, straight hair that’s pushed back by a polka-dot headband. Polka Dot has a smirk on her face like she just said the funniest thing. The other girl is rolling her eyes, sticking her nose in the air. She’s perfectly put together, not a hair out of place. I pray that’s not the girl Atticus likes.
“She’s over there, right? That’s where you keep looking.”
Atticus straightens his shirt and glances over and quickly back with a scared look on his face.
I grin at his cuteness. So innocent. “Which one is it?” I ask.
Please don’t be the snobby one.
He cowers his head a little and I want to smoosh his cheeks, which is really strange ’cause he’s in eighth grade and I’m a junior, but he’s adorable the way he likes her and he’s so nervous.
“She’s the one with the head thing.”
The waitress drops off our breadsticks and drinks. We each grab a breadstick and bite.
I breathe out; the smart-ass. I can work with that. “Polka Dot? Okay. Good. First we have to isolate her. She needs to be alone. Never, and I repeat, never ask her out in front of her friends.”
He nods and I notice Colter looking at me with a proud smile on his face. My skin starts to heat a little at his stare. I’m in over my head here. Helping him with his brother? That’s big time. Couples territory. I brush those thoughts out of my head in order to help Atticus. “I think it’s a good idea for you to talk to her, though. In front of her friends. Show her you’re not afraid.”
His eyes go wide. “I . . . I have to talk to her?”
Colter and I laugh.
“Dude, how do you expect to hang out with her without talking?” Colter says, messing up Atticus’s hair again.
“Talking is required for most date activities,” I add.
I see Colter give me a seductive look then raise his eyebrows. “Well, not all of them.” I throw a spoon at him; he ducks and it clatters to the ground. “It’s true,” he adds.
I roll my eyes. “Go on. Go say hello. Ask to borrow her Parmesan or something.”
Atticus takes a few breaths in and puts his palms on the table. His face is a mixture of desperation and shock and fear.
I lean over a little. “You can do this,” I say. “Wait.” I grab three sticks of gum out of my purse, hand two to him and Colter, and take the last one myself. “Don’t want to talk to her with garlic breath.”
He shoves the stick of gum into his mouth, takes one last breath, and looks at his brother. The expression on Atticus’s face, the look of pure admiration of his big brother, makes me melt a little in my cruddy booth.
Colter nods reassuringly, and Atticus leaves on his mission.
His brother looks at him like Tate looked at me. I close my eyes and fight the feeling that comes, the guilt-wrenching knife twisting my heart. Opening my eyes, I focus on where I am and what I’m doing, and see Colter’s proud big brotherly expression as he watches his brother walk away. As quick as Tate’s memory arrived it fades away, and I’m left feeling grateful for these moments with him in the present.
“What?” Colter says when he sees my expression.