“So it is Jessica’s fault.”
My face was flat. “Would it make you feel better if I admitted she was one of many reasons?” The light changed, and I stepped off the sidewalk and into the street.
“Yes, it would. Thank you.”
I snickered. “I’ll date when I’m ready. How about you?”
“No one serious. I’m just too busy to date between the sorority and being a senior. But Jamie and Grace both got asked to homecoming.”
“They’re too young to go to homecoming with boys.”
“They’re sixteen and eighteen, Tyler.”
“Like I said, too young. Now tell me who I have to kill.”
She laughed. “Oliver Wilson and Jesse Crawford.”
I sighed. “Well, at least I know their families, which means I know where they live.”
“I miss you,” she said. “Promise you’ll come out at least once with me.”
“No promises.”
She groaned. “Come on. You’re so boring now that you’re a grown up.”
“I know,” I said with a chuckle. “You’re next.”
“Never. Maybe I’ll come to New York and use my Lit degree to work at Cam’s bar.”
“Hey, it’s not a bad gig.”
“Anything to get out of Lincoln.”
“Except you’ll miss it,” I added. “Everybody misses it. New York is lonely sometimes.”
“Well, luckily Mom and Dad have all those extra bedrooms for me when I come visit.”
“That’s true.”
“Well, I won’t keep you too long, I just wanted to say hi. Have fun tonight, and try to avoid fighting with Iron Man. See if you can’t find a pretty honey to take home, especially if Cam pushes one at you.”
I smiled. “All right. Oh, and Meg?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you too.”
I could hear her smiling on the other end. “Can’t wait to see you. One week!”
“One week.”
“Talk to you later.”
“Bye, Meg.”
I hung up the phone and slipped it back in my pocket, thinking about what she’d said. It was true that I hadn’t dated anyone seriously since my breakup with Jessica. And it wasn’t like that wasn’t traumatic on its own. When I showed up on Cam’s doorstep, I didn’t have much more than a suitcase to my name. To be with someone, to live with someone who you thought you loved and who loved you, only to have them leave you for faults that you believed were strengths, was disorienting to say the least.
I was too nice. Too good. Boring. I went to all the clubs and parties with her even though I didn’t want to. I played her game, but it wasn’t enough. But I couldn’t pretend to be interested in what she was interested in any more than she could. I’d always known she and I weren’t meant for forever. But getting dumped like that, for those reasons? It was a dick punch that I wasn’t prepared for.
But maybe Meg was right. Maybe I should put in a little more effort to find someone to be with, really be with. Cam’s was the first face I saw when I considered my options, and I wished it were possible between us for the first time in earnest. The thought surprised me, but when I considered it, she was at the top of the list.
But Cam wasn’t interested in me, so I pushed away the idle imaginings of me kissing her or holding her and locked them up tight.
We were friends. That was all there was to it, and the fact wasn’t bound to change any time soon.
PETER FREAKING PARKER
Cam
THE DAY WAS LONG AND full of paper cuts, though the taco break was the ideal reset before switching gears into singles night. Nothing said ‘Let’s do this’ like carnitas and avocado.
Everyone was in good spirits by the time inventory was finished, and most of the staff went home to get ready for the party that night. One of the earliest concepts for the bar was a singles night once a week, an event I gladly took on. Each had a literary theme, and I had so many planned, we’d be set for a couple of years. Like Alice in Wonderland, dystopian, fairy tale, zombies, anime, Victorian, time travel … the list just went on and on. Some were cosplay. Some were almost like a book club, where everyone would be encouraged to read something, with bonus points for a prize if you did. And there was always trivia — we’d purchased special tablets designed for bars that ran trivia games — and I had ways of splitting people up so they’d meet as many singles as possible.
So far, they’d all been a success, but tonight might top them all. Everybody loves a good costume party, and when you mix it up with comics? It’s like a dream come true. For me, at least.
By seven, we had all changed into our costumes. Bayleigh was dressed, as planned, as Gwen Stacy, in a lab coat over a pencil skirt and tight top, with a black headband on and shaggy bangs. Her blond hair fell over her shoulders as she cut lemons on the bar to prep backups for the garnishes. Greg wore a Spiderman costume, stocking the bar in a skin-tight red suit, cap, everything, muscles bulging. Padding not required.
I maybe had a small idea of what his plan was when I suggested her costume.
My closet consisted primarily of flannel, jersey, and costumes, and I’d settled on Rogue — auburn wig with a white streak, black skinnies, a yellow and green tank under a brown leather jacket, and combat boots. She was my favorite. I just needed to find a Gambit of my very own, and I’d be all set.
Bayleigh sliced up the last lemon and looked over the plastic tubs. “Crap, we went through more than this last week. I’d better grab some more.”