Page 21 of Crease Collision

“They’re awesome. My best buddies.”

His expression softens, and I want to know the people who make him look so happy.

Before long, we come to a crossroads. Kai points to the left, and after we turn, he gently elbows my arm. “Keep working on your English. You’re already getting better.”

The path widens ahead, where rows of tall elm trees are lined up on either side. Their branches meet overhead, creating a high green ceiling that filters the sunlight.

“This is beautiful,” I say, looking upward. “The trees remind me of Sweden.”

“My mom and I went to Norway last year,” he says. “I’d like to see Sweden too.”

“You should. It is much nicer than Norway.”

He looks over. “Says the man from Sweden.”

“Go to Sweden. When you come back, you will tell me I’m right.”

“Oh, check this out.” He brings us to a stop next to a statue of Shakespeare. “This is called Literary Walk. Lots of writers and poets.”

“Ah,” I say. “Smart people like me.”

He snorts, then nods at the bard. “This is Shakespeare. He wrote poems and plays.”

“I know who he is. We studied him in school.”

“Really?” He raises his eyebrows. “Prove it.”

I make a show of thinking hard. “All right. ‘This above all: to thine own self be true.’ From Hamlet.”

“You—” A patch of pink colors his cheeks. “That was so beautiful in your accent.”

“Hmm. You like the way I talk?”

His eyes drop to my mouth. “Very much so.”

This is worth remembering.

A moment passes, then he says, “Come on.”

Our arms touch now and then as we walk, but we don’t say much. I can’t help wondering what is going on in his head. I know he liked the sex we had, but I am trying to figure out how much he likes me. Or at least, how he likes me. Is it romantic interest, or am I in the friends category?

It isn’t long until the path opens into a brick terrace split into two levels, connected by large staircases. At the bottom is a huge fountain topped by a bronze angel, and beyond that, a lake dotted with rowboats.

“Fan,” I say, looking around.

Kai turns toward me. “Is that good or bad?”

“Very good,” I say. “Fan means damn.”

He nods. “This is Bethesda Terrace.”

“It is beautiful.”

He glances at the fountain, then back at me. I have the impression he is more interested in my reaction than in seeing it himself. That thought makes this even better.

I spend a moment taking it all in before saying, “This is worth the walk all by itself. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“It’s a good spot,” he says, looking into my eyes.