Catalyst by Shelly Crane

me.
                  “You? Wait- football?”
                  “Yes,” h e sighed. “Cliché quarterba ck dated the head cheerleader.”
                  “Aha. So, how long did that last?”
                  “We got engaged right after high school.”
                  “Really! You were engaged? Wow. So...what happened? You’re not secretly married are you?”
                  “Nope. I called off the wedding. She w as more interested in her boss’ tongue than she was in marrying me.”
                  Oh no. She cheated on him.
                  “Oh, I’m sorry.”
                  “It’s ok. I didn’t love her.” He held up his hands. “I know that sounds bad but we’d been together so long, it was just routine or habit for us, you know? Neither of us cried when it was over.” He squeezed my foot. “So, did you and Michael have a big wedding?”
                  “Nope. My parents were gone already on a mission trip and I didn’t have any other family. And Michael’s dad had passed away a few years before. His mom came to the church with us but she was less than thrilled about him marrying me. We had a small ceremony with only about fifteen people. Mostly our school friends.”
                  He nodded, thinking. Rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. 
                  “Favorite color?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
                  “Red. Yours?”
                  “Don’t really have one. I’m eclectic, e asy to please.”
                  “Uhuh. What’s your least favorite food?”
                  “Ok. Don’t laugh, but it’s birthday cake.”
                  “What? ” I laughed. “ How can you not like birthday cake?”
                  “Easy. I hate it. It’s too sweet and spongy then gooey and alway s has those annoying sprinkles. I can’t stand it.” He made a face like he was imagining taking a bite and was disgusted making me giggle. “What’s yours?”
                  “Bananas.”
                  “Texture or taste?”
                  “Both, but mostly texture. Matter of fact, I love banana flavored candy, just not bananas themselves.”
                  “You are strange, ” he goaded in his familiar sarcastic way.
                  “Hey!” I kicked my foot gently into his stomach and he tickled my foot making me giggle harder. “So, I already know you play guitar and you were a S ergeant in the Marines. I know y ou love kids and like to work. Y ou have a green thumb and really love your sweet tea. What else?”
                  “There’s n ot a lot left to tell you.”
                  “Oh, come on,” I pleaded. “What i s some thing nobody knows about you? I won’t tell anyone,” I said sweetly and smiled at him.
                  “Hmmm.” He touched his tongue to his lip ring , thinking. “I once prank called a girl I liked in the ninth grade. I was trying to g et her to meet me at the movies without knowing who I was because I thought she’d say no. She hung up on me. The next day at school she got this ot her guy in trouble for stalking because she thought it was him. I never told anyone it was me. No one.”
                  “Wow. I’m so happy to be privy to your big bad secret,” I said with mock seriousness.
                  “Yo, ” he said and pointed at me, “ back in the day, I was bad boned. I was tough, ok? Rugged. People feared me.”
                  “I’m sure they did, ” I said blandly to goad him.
                  “Are you doubting my mad badness?”
                  “Oh, no. Now way. Certainly not.”
                  “Oh, L.” He shook his