to classes where the professors themselves were dressed in jeans and flip-flops. The image of him in a tie in front of a bunch of disrespectful teenagers was just that comical.
“I’m gonna go see what Jonnie left in the fridge for us to eat. Make yourself at home.”
“Xander?”
He paused in the archway between this room and the next. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for everything you’ve done. I guess I haven’t really said that yet.”
He studied my face for a long minute, his expression unreadable. I felt like I should know what he was thinking, that I should be able to read the emotion in his eyes. But I couldn’t.
“You would have done it for me.”
He turned and walked away before I could respond. I turned back to the windows, staring at the swimming pool that was barely visible through the shrubbery. I tried to remember swimming in that pool, but I couldn’t. The last distinct memory I had of swimming was when my college roommate and I went to the indoor pool on the university campus a couple of weeks…well, no, I guess it was a couple of years ago.
This wasn’t working for me. I didn’t like not remembering. It was like it was all just right there, but I simply couldn’t decipher it. It was frustrating.
***
We had lunch together, but the conversation was stilted and awkward. He would start to say something, but then he would stop, realizing that I didn’t know who or what he was talking about.
“Did you know Shelly and Charlie?”
A slow smile slipped over his full lips. It was a nice smile, the kind that could make a girl have thoughts that weren’t altogether Christian. I found myself wondering if it was the smile that made me go out with him in the first place.
“I know them well. You took me home with you for Christmas last year and we spent an entire week enduring their questions and crude jokes.”
“I think I can figure out which was which.”
He laughed, a nice, deep chuckle that came from somewhere deep in his chest.
“Shelly really is the complete opposite of you.”
I smiled, thinking of my kid sister—only twelve in my mind. She was obsessed with that new British boyband, One Direction. It was all she talked about when I went home over the summer.
“She would be in high school now,” I said as much to myself as to him.
“She is. She’ll start her senior year here in a few weeks.”
I shook my head, trying to imagine it. “Did she lose the braces?”
“And she has contact lenses now. She’s quite proud of them.”
“I bet she’s a real beauty.”
“Just like you.”
I blushed as I suddenly became focused on pushing the food around on my plate.
“Charlie’s going to be a senior at UT Austin this fall. And he’s been seeing the same girl for the last three years. You thought he might propose at his graduation if they’re still together then.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. Apparently he came to you and asked if you thought that would be a good way to handle it.”
“That’s how I thought Philip was going to do it.”
Xander nodded. “Instead, you found out about his engagement a week before graduation.”
I looked up at him. “Does it bother you? Talking about my…” I started to call Philip my boyfriend, but—then again—he hadn’t been that for a long time. And that was so odd.
I was stuck in May of 2010. But Xander was in August of 2015.
Surreal.
“No. We talked about Philip on our first date.”
“We did?”
“Yeah. You were teasing me about the number of women you assumed I’d dated, so I made you tell me about your dating history. Philip was pretty much the whole sum of that experience.”
I blushed, the heat burning my cheeks so that I pressed my palm to them in an attempt to cool them slightly.
“You did that then, too.”
“I blush a lot. My father used to say it was because I was born under the Christmas star. Something about Christian shame, or something.”
“I always thought it was pretty cute.”
I felt the blush deepen.
“I’m gonna go see what Jonnie left in the fridge for us to eat. Make yourself at home.”
“Xander?”
He paused in the archway between this room and the next. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for everything you’ve done. I guess I haven’t really said that yet.”
He studied my face for a long minute, his expression unreadable. I felt like I should know what he was thinking, that I should be able to read the emotion in his eyes. But I couldn’t.
“You would have done it for me.”
He turned and walked away before I could respond. I turned back to the windows, staring at the swimming pool that was barely visible through the shrubbery. I tried to remember swimming in that pool, but I couldn’t. The last distinct memory I had of swimming was when my college roommate and I went to the indoor pool on the university campus a couple of weeks…well, no, I guess it was a couple of years ago.
This wasn’t working for me. I didn’t like not remembering. It was like it was all just right there, but I simply couldn’t decipher it. It was frustrating.
***
We had lunch together, but the conversation was stilted and awkward. He would start to say something, but then he would stop, realizing that I didn’t know who or what he was talking about.
“Did you know Shelly and Charlie?”
A slow smile slipped over his full lips. It was a nice smile, the kind that could make a girl have thoughts that weren’t altogether Christian. I found myself wondering if it was the smile that made me go out with him in the first place.
“I know them well. You took me home with you for Christmas last year and we spent an entire week enduring their questions and crude jokes.”
“I think I can figure out which was which.”
He laughed, a nice, deep chuckle that came from somewhere deep in his chest.
“Shelly really is the complete opposite of you.”
I smiled, thinking of my kid sister—only twelve in my mind. She was obsessed with that new British boyband, One Direction. It was all she talked about when I went home over the summer.
“She would be in high school now,” I said as much to myself as to him.
“She is. She’ll start her senior year here in a few weeks.”
I shook my head, trying to imagine it. “Did she lose the braces?”
“And she has contact lenses now. She’s quite proud of them.”
“I bet she’s a real beauty.”
“Just like you.”
I blushed as I suddenly became focused on pushing the food around on my plate.
“Charlie’s going to be a senior at UT Austin this fall. And he’s been seeing the same girl for the last three years. You thought he might propose at his graduation if they’re still together then.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. Apparently he came to you and asked if you thought that would be a good way to handle it.”
“That’s how I thought Philip was going to do it.”
Xander nodded. “Instead, you found out about his engagement a week before graduation.”
I looked up at him. “Does it bother you? Talking about my…” I started to call Philip my boyfriend, but—then again—he hadn’t been that for a long time. And that was so odd.
I was stuck in May of 2010. But Xander was in August of 2015.
Surreal.
“No. We talked about Philip on our first date.”
“We did?”
“Yeah. You were teasing me about the number of women you assumed I’d dated, so I made you tell me about your dating history. Philip was pretty much the whole sum of that experience.”
I blushed, the heat burning my cheeks so that I pressed my palm to them in an attempt to cool them slightly.
“You did that then, too.”
“I blush a lot. My father used to say it was because I was born under the Christmas star. Something about Christian shame, or something.”
“I always thought it was pretty cute.”
I felt the blush deepen.
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