Page 64 of So I'll Know
I swallow. “What does that mean?”
“Be part of his company. Marry a woman. Have children. Same as him.”
“And . . . you don’t want that?”
Marcus concentrates on pushing some wadded-up newspaper into the center of the structure, then reaches for the lighter. He pushes the button, and the orange flame lights up the planes of his face before he uses it to start the fire.
“No, not anymore,” he says, finally.
He stands, walks to the log, and sits, patting the spot beside him. I shuffle over and push into his side, letting his warmth seep into my body. I breathe him in; he smells like pine trees and campfire.
We sit in silence for a while, staring at the flickering flames and listening to the ebb and flow of the ocean. I try to think about anything but the fact that we’re leaving in the morning: Marcus’s reluctant smile, his laugh that I worked so hard to earn, and the way he’s been touching me all day as though I’m his person.
But you’re not.
“What’s your favorite movie and why?” Marcus asks suddenly, his voice disrupting my thoughts.
“You want me to pick just one?”
“Humor me.”
“Alright. Don’t laugh, though.”
He scoffs. “No promises.”
“Ten Things I Hate About You.”
“The nineties flick?” Just as I nod, Marcus straightens so quickly that I almost tumble to the sand, but he catches me by the shoulders, turning me bodily toward him. “I fucking love that movie.” His eyes sparkle in the firelight, and I laugh at his boyish reaction. “Why do you like it?”
I grin shyly. “Because it’s quintessential nineties. I was born at the end of that decade, so I don’t know if that’s what it was really like. But my good friend in high school went through a nineties-obsession period, and we watched all the nineties teen stuff:Dawson’s Creek,Empire Records, My So-Called Life, Freaks and Geeks, Varsity Blues, Clueless,and, of course,Ten Things I Hate About You.” I sigh, thinking about the nights when Trey and I stayed up way past our bedtimes watchingallthe teen drama unfold. “I just became so enamored with that high school experience—all these beautiful people living whimsical, overtly romantic lives, conversing in witty euphemisms and comebacks, all the while listening to angsty pop and alt-rock. It was incredible.”
“You’re kind of a romantic, which is a huge shocker,” Marcus says with a smirk, and I elbow him. “But it’s a good reason!”
I rest my head against his arm. “What’s your favorite movie?”
“Spider-Man: No Way Home,” he replies with no hesitation.
I squint up at him, trying to gauge whether he’s joking. He looks very serious. “While I agree that’s a great movie, it’s not what I expected you to say.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. I guess I expected something older. That one is pretty recent.”
He blows out a breath. “Well, I was always conflicted aboutwhich Spider-Man I liked best, but then Disney went and made a brilliant movie that featured all three. I was a goner.”
“Why Spider-Man, though?” I ask, tracing small circles on his thigh with my pointer finger. “Is he your favorite Avenger?”
Marcus is quiet for so long that I almost worry he dozed off.
“No,” he says finally, “he’s not. But you’re my favorite person.”
Emotion floods my chest when I remember that he used to call me Peter Parker before he knew my actual name. “AndI’mthe romantic one?” Tears fill my eyes, and I wipe them away quickly. We’re too fucking new at this for me to be feeling this way.
“Tell me something true,” Marcus murmurs.
I smile, recognizing the quote. “Should it be something real? Something no one else knows?” He chuckles at my response, and I consider my answer. “In middle school, I was obsessed with the Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movies.”
“That’s your truth?”
