I Want It That Way

CHAPTER EIGHT

The rest of September, I was strong.

I went to school and hung out with friends, did coursework, turned in my project on time and continued to doubt myself as I struggled in the practicum. Pretty much the only time I saw Ty was when he picked Sam up from school. Since he didn’t ask why I’d backed off, I figured he knew. If he minded, he’d say something, right? This wasn’t the typical dating move—run to see if he’ll chase you. It was far more basic and for the sake of self-preservation. I’d skated right up to the edge of falling for him, and had fallen hard, but since he was honest with me about his situation, I regrouped.

After that first time, Ty never acted like he didn’t know me. When our paths crossed outside the building or at the fitness center, we made casual conversation. He was friendly. Sometimes we talked about how Sam was doing at day care. If it stung a bit for things to be like this when we had so much damned potential, well, it was better than huge heartbreak later.

I’m being sensible. It makes no sense to fixate on a guy I can’t have.

Things were on a pretty even keel, and I wasn’t horrified by my test scores, mostly As and Bs. I had almost forgotten—okay, not at all—the rush of excitement I’d felt waiting for Ty on the balcony, so I was surprised to find him waiting one night after work. He’d picked Sam up and they left the building before me, but as I stepped outside, I saw them in the parking lot.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

“Sure.” I was too startled to say anything else.

“Let me get Sam squared away. Walk us to the car?”

“Please, Nadia?” The small Tyler gazed up at me imploringly, and I probably wouldn’t say no if he asked for a kidney.

“No problem, bud.”

He looked at me mock-reproachfully. “My name is Sam.” Then he laughed, because he never tired of that game.

While I’d spent less time with his dad lately, I spent twenty-odd hours a week with Sam. He was smart, adorable, funny, all-around awesome. Late at night, after doing my homework, I got on joke sites because he was obsessed with dinosaurs. So now, whenever I first saw him, I had to come up with a new one every time as a greeting. Today it was: What do you get when dinosaurs crash their cars? Tyrannosaurus wrecks! Then I wrote out the words, so he could really appreciate the joke. The day before, I hit him with, What do you call it when a dinosaur makes a goal with a soccer ball? A dino-score! His giggle was seriously the light of my life.

Tonight he melted my heart by hugging me tight around the neck and giving me a wet kiss on the cheek. “See you Monday!”

Then Ty buckled him into his car seat and shut the door, giving us a moment of privacy. I hadn’t let myself think about him or miss him, but right then, those repressed feelings swamped me. I was probably doing the hungry staring at the moment but I couldn’t help it.

“It feels like I haven’t talked to you in forever,” he said quietly.

“Been a few weeks.”

“But you’re never out of mind. Sam’s favorite sentence these days starts with ‘Nadia says...’ He’s always chattering about you.”

Trying for a friendly smile, I answered, “I’m glad he likes it here. I wouldn’t have recommended it if I didn’t honestly think it’s a great environment.”

“Yeah. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though.”

“What’s up?” My faux-chipper expression wouldn’t give anything away, right?

Ty put a hand on my shoulder. “Stop that. Stop.”

“Huh?”

“Be real. Be you.”

It shook me that he knew me well enough already to understand that three weeks away from him hadn’t cured my feelings or even lessened them. Damn. I was so totally fooling myself. The warmth of his palm nearly melted my spine. Somehow I managed not to lean into him.

“Okay.” My smile dropped, and I gave him what he wanted. This face, you show me everything. “I missed you. But it seemed like a good idea to back off. We got in deep that night.”

“True, it was a little fast, and I’m not known for insta-bonding. So I appreciate the thinking time. And...I’d like to take you up on that offer, if it still stands.”

My heart skittered. “Which one?”

“Broken Arrow is playing this weekend, and I’ve been curious about their live shows. I’m dropping Sam off with my parents tonight. Would you go with me tomorrow?”

For a few seconds, I considered playing it cool. This was short notice, but if Lauren was asking, I wouldn’t blink over last-minute plans. “Absolutely. I’m going to a party tonight, but I haven’t made plans for Saturday yet.”

“I’d say I’ll pick you up, but it makes more sense for you to come downstairs when you’re ready.”

“Agreed. What kind of place is it?” I was wondering how I should dress.

“Underground whiskey bar, styled after a speakeasy. Do you know what that is?”

“Are you serious? Roaring ’20s. Prohibition. I did take U.S. History.”

He smiled down at me and the humor went clear through to his eyes, lighting them from within. “You’re cute when you’re defensive. Don’t take it personally. Most people in our age bracket would blank stare in response to the word speakeasy.”

“God, the way you talk.”

“I’m not a silver-tongued devil, I take it?”

I smirked. “Closer with the grumpy asshole warning.”

“You’re breaking my heart. Anyway, jeans will be fine, unless you just can’t resist dressing like a flapper. I respect the need for cosplay.”

The minute he said that, I mentally ransacked my closet, trying to remember if I had anything sparkly that could fit the bill. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I refuse. I’ll invent a time machine as soon as I get home.”

“I highly suspect that will take longer than twenty-four hours.”

“Always, the ladies underestimate me,” he said mournfully.

If only you knew how colossally untrue that is.

But I kept it light. “The true burden of greatness is being so painfully misunderstood in your own time.”

“You do get me. I have Sam’s bag in the car, and I’m having dinner with my parents, so I won’t be home until later.” My expression must’ve given away my confusion, because he added, “In case you change your mind or something. Maybe I should give you my number, just in case.”

Getting out my phone, I said, “Go for it.”

There was no way I’d decide not to go tomorrow, but he didn’t know that, and even if I did, I could knock on his door and tell him. But I wanted his cell info, and I texted Test right away, so he’d have mine.

The message popped up with a ping, and Ty smiled, so pleased that I wanted to capture that expression for posterity. “So that’s you, huh?”

“Yep. Gotcha.” With a smirk, I snapped a picture of him.

“I think you just invaded my privacy.” But he didn’t ask me to see it or to delete the pic. Instead, with a measured sort of consideration, he took one of me. “And that’s payback.”

I flushed, beyond pleased that he’d reciprocated. Stop it, you can’t get all crazy over this. “We’re good to go?”

“Yeah. See you.”

Tapping on the glass made Sam glance up from his picture book. I waved to them both as Ty got in the car, and then I jogged to the Toyota. Before I left the parking lot, I created a contact for him, adding all the information I possessed, including the picture I’d just taken. The sun was behind him, adding gold lights to his auburn hair. Crinkles beside his eyes made him even more adorable, and his lips were slightly parted. This face. I could love this face. And everything about the guy that goes along with it.

In hindsight, it would’ve been much wiser to explain that I liked him too much to make a go of the friendship thing, so sorry, but there were limits to my capacity for self-denial. Hanging out with Ty, even if it was tempting, frustrating even, would likely be the best part of my weekend. I drove home, practically bouncing with excitement.

I might’ve exaggerated when I said there was a party tonight. Angus had invited us to Josh’s to catch up on Project Runway. Max wasn’t going, but Lauren and I were, along with a couple of other friends, Courtney and Darius, who wasn’t gay. He was just into fashion.

Lauren was pacing when I came in. “Do you know how many times Josh has texted me?”

“Twenty-seven?”

“Eight.” She sounded disgruntled that by overguessing I’d made the situation seem less dire. “I told him to calm his tits and start without us if necessary.”

“Just let me change out of beige and navy, then we’ll leave, I swear.”

True to my word, I took the world’s quickest shower, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, and then raced to the living room. “Let’s go.”

Josh had a fantastic apartment, nicer than ours, and closer to campus, too. He didn’t have roommates, so there was nobody to bitch at him for hogging the TV with four hours of Project Runway. We joked around, ordered pizza, mocked the designers and generally sucked the juice out of the lime called life. There was beer, but I had only one since I was driving.

“Tim Gunn is a god,” Angus said.

“Pretty sure I saw a movie where he was actually playing God,” Courtney informed us.

Josh got his iPad and searched until he found it. “Not God, but some kind of heavenly associate. I approve. Another night, you will be mine, Teen Spirit.”

Shortly thereafter, the party broke up. Lauren and I headed out together while Angus stayed at Josh’s. She looked pensive as I drove.

“Something wrong?”

“Just your standard existential life crisis.”

“Lay it on me.”

“I’m just questioning if I can actually make a difference. PoliSci seems like so much crap, and I wonder if they’re grooming me to become a slick-shit politician.”

“Do you want to change your major?” People did it all the time, but she likely wouldn’t graduate with us if she did.

“Maybe. I don’t know. That’s part of the problem.” Her tone sounded strange enough that I glanced over.

“What is?”

She sighed. “Never mind. It’s possible that I’m freaking out because they’ll expect us to get real jobs soon. This year, next, and then you’ll be gone, teaching somewhere. Who knows what I’ll be doing? Probably asking people if they want fries with that.” She forced a laugh, but I could tell she was seriously stressed.

I couldn’t let her think she was alone in questioning...everything. “This practicum is kicking my ass, dude. It’s, like, 100 percent harder than I expected, and the kids break my heart in a hundred different ways. Sometimes I can tell they want to learn something so bad, but the pathways just won’t connect. That’s when they explode or throw stuff—there’s this one girl who rocks and moans. And I want so bad to fix it, but I can’t, and that’s the reality I’ll be facing for the next thirty years. I can help but I can’t—”

“Wow,” Lauren breathed. “Sounds like you have your own existential crisis.”

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough for special needs. I want to be. Not sure if I am.”

“Helps to know I’m not the only one worried about The Future and Real Life.”

I thought about that as I pulled into our complex. “That’s part of the problem, LB, labeling this, right now, as not life. I mean, we work, we’re paying rent. We play around sometimes, but it’s real. Every moment is. And I know there will come a time when I am sad as hell to wake up in the middle of the night and not find you there.”

She stared at me for a few seconds, and then I got a ferocious scowl as she swiped at her eyes. “I could kill you for making me cry tonight, seriously.”

“Liar.” I hugged her and then got out of the car. “If you want, I’ll whip up some no-bake cookies and we can talk about how crappy our prospects are, instead of our feelings.”

“Can we watch TV instead?”

“Totally.”

I went in the kitchen and made a batch from memory. Since I’d been cooking these since I was twelve, they came out perfect. When I came back to the living room, Lauren was watching some action flick; she curled her lip at rom-coms, which you wouldn’t guess by looking. On the surface, she seemed like a girlie-girl, but past precedent suggested that she preferred first-person shooter games and movies with lots of car chases and explosions. In high school, she spent more time online, coding or playing MMOs, but these days, she was a party beast.

Ten minutes later, I got up. “I stuck them in the freezer so they’d set faster. Should be done now.”

“Then bring me my cookies, woman.” She waved an imperious hand.

Refusing to feel guilty, I plunked eight on a plate, then delivered with a flourish. Lauren inhaled deeply, then aimed a mock-accusing look upward. “You’re trying to fatten me up so you can eat me during the lean times. Aren’t you?”

“Please stop writing Hunger Games fan fiction. Seriously. I’m begging. Also, half of these are for me, and I will totally bite you if you try to nom them.”

We watched half the movie and ate all eight cookies before Lauren fell asleep. I pulled the throw over her and turned to head down the hall when my phone pinged. Picking it up, the screen said 2:37 a.m., 1 message. I tapped it. The picture of Ty popped up.

I hear you walking around. Do you KNOW what time it is?

Grinning, I sent back, Adventure time?

Don’t tempt me. I’m completely unsupervised.

Shouldn’t you be asleep? I thought you had epic plans tomorrow night.

Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep. Come outside?

As we were closer to October, the nights held a chill instead of the balmy warmth left over from a summer day. So I took a blanket with me, along with my gift drop basket. Luckily, the TV was still on, or I’d probably have woken Lauren going outside. I had four chocolate no-bakes neatly lined up, and as soon as I spotted Ty, I lowered the basket to him.

“Bribing your neighbor to stop complaining about your night-stomping with baked goods? That’s shady. Felony territory.” But he emptied the basket before sending it up.

“Not at all. These are stove-top hush cookies, a misdemeanor at best.”

I was about to settle into my chair when Ty said, “Come down.”

My heart thumped like crazy. “My roommate’s asleep on the couch. I might wake her.”

“Then climb over. I’ll catch you.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Probably. Get your keys and then come down.”

The safe thing to do would be to say no. But I failed at self-preservation by sneaking in to grab my house keys, and then I came back out, quietly closing the balcony door behind me. Lauren stirred but she didn’t wake. Good thing, because she’d scream bloody murder if she saw me clambering over the edge of the balcony like this. I lowered myself slowly down the bars until I was hanging from the bottom of the ledge. Ty’s hands wrapped around my ankles.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

“I’m trusting you.” It was a crazy, reckless leap, but he caught me. For a few perfect seconds, he just held me against him, but all too soon he set me on my feet. His hands slipped down my arms, and it seemed as if he lingered a beat too long, another. Silent, forbidden touching that argued that no matter how we tried, we’d never only be friends.

“You’re cold,” he said. “Let me get a blanket.”

In a flash, he came back with the chenille throw from the couch. It took all my self-control not to point out that his bed was probably even warmer. Ty led me over to the wicker love seat, and it gave me such a happy jolt to settle beside him. His patio was prettier close-up, and I admired it until he distracted me by dropping an arm around my shoulders. It could’ve passed as companionable, but we both knew the truth. Or I did, at least. Yet it didn’t stop me from snuggling into him, soaking in every shade of this experience.

“You know something?” he said quietly.

“Many somethings. But probably not the one you’re referring to.”

“The night of the party, I woke up before you did. Your head was back against the couch and I could’ve said something like, It’s time for you to leave. Instead, I made us more comfortable. You didn’t stir once.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I just...didn’t want you to go. I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed when Sam got me up later and you were gone.”

“Did he wonder why you weren’t in bed?”

“Nah. I’ve crashed out on the couch before while watching TV.”

“That’s good at least.” Pulling my legs to the side let me lean on Ty a little more, and by the way his arm tightened, he didn’t mind.

“You really got in my head that night.”

“What do you mean?”

“What you told me. About watching? Now it’s my favorite thing to think about.”

A surge of heat went through me. “Me, watching you?”

“Yeah.” He was looking at my mouth again. “If I’m not fantasizing about kissing you, then it’s that, and it never was before. You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’m not doing anything,” I protested.

Ty ran his fingers through my hair, conflict etched in the play of shadow on his face. “That’s part of the problem.”