Page 5 of Only After We Met
“Sure.”
I started walking again. We crossed the street. Once we were inside, I noticed the smell of freshly made crepes. I babbled in French and ordered a couple with cheese, tuna, and mushrooms. From thecorner of my eye, I saw her take off her backpack and settle down at a corner table near the window.
“Hey, beer or Coke?” I asked.
“They don’t have water?”
“Yeah. Water then?”
“Actually…maybe a beer.”
I shook my head. The girl was a walking question mark even when it was about something simple. I turned back to the guy behind the counter, who didn’t seem in the mood to wait. Soon afterward, I grabbed the tray with our drinks and the crepes off the counter and carried it to our table.
“I could eat a baby elephant,” she said, her eyes devouring our still-steaming dinner. Then she looked at me. “Thanks. For real. I haven’t said that yet, have I? The truth is, I just felt like it would be a good idea to do something crazy for once in my life: catch a plane without thinking about it, you know. But then I got here, and… I was terrified. I’d have probably ended up spending the night in the subway station next to whatever kindly beggar would clear off a nook for me, waiting for the sun to rise so I could fly back to London and, dammit, I just can’t stop talking. You say something.”
“Be careful with the crepe. It’s hot.”
“No. I mean, say something about yourself. You know enough about me already. You know I left my boyfriend, you know I’m nuts, and you know I can’t figure out how to use a ticket machine.”
“Okay. What do you want to know?” I took a bite of my food.
“You never answered me the first time.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You do though. You’re lying. And you’re bad at it. You’re oneof those people who looks the other way when you’re lying. I like that. It could be useful. So tell me: Are you a stalker or a serial killer who preys on girls in subway stations?”
“No.” I suppressed a smile.
“Good! See? You didn’t look away.”
“I suppose that’s a relief to you.”
“You better believe it. Now, let’s find out if you’re one of those guys who’s into one-night stands and doesn’t go for romance.”
I grinned. It had been ages since I’d had so much fun. When was the last time I’d met someone who threw me for a loop like that, someone I couldn’t take my eyes off of? Especially without having to do anything special, just being herself and blathering on and on like a caffeinated parrot.
“By romantic, you mean stroking people’s feet?”
“Ugh. I mean, it does sound gross when you put it that way.” She laughed and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Maybewarming up someone’s feetsounds better, but it’s the same thing, Ginger.”
“You’re fucking up one of the few nice memories I have of Dean, just so you know.” She took a bite of her food and chewed thoughtfully. “Damn. That’s delicious. This cheese is just…mmm.”
She licked her lips slowly, not thinking, not trying to make an impression.
“Tell me about Dean,” I said, forcing myself to look away from her lips.
3
Ginger
Dean, Dean, Dean.
Where should I start? What should I say?
Rhys was waiting impatiently while I tried to decide if it was worth it to talk to a stranger about my ex. Rhys was a guy who was nothing like Dean, a guy who hadn’t bothered combing his wild, dirty-blond hair, whose eyes were intense, piercing my skin instead of lingering on the surface. I don’t know, I feared that a person like Rhys wouldn’t understand my story, but even so, I wanted to share it, to let out all the things I felt in the hope that the knot I’d had in my throat for hours would finally disappear.