Page 64 of Puck Me Back to Life

Ash takes another sip of his beer. “Real life isn't like that.”

The words settle heavily between us. For a second, the noise of the bar seems to fade.

“Real life is messier.”

I think about William.

About all the people who spent months arguing over who the monster was.

Dante ruins the moment immediately. “I like action movies.”

“Of course you do,” I half-snort as I take a drink.

“What do you mean?” Dante asks.

“You look like somebody whose favorite movie is explosions.”

Dante points at me. “See? He's funny. Nobody told me Hayes was funny.”

Heat immediately crawls up my neck. “I'm not.”

“You absolutely are.”

“I'm really not.”

Ash's mouth twitches. The expression lasts less than a second.

Still. It's enough.

Dante glances toward the bar. “I'm getting food.”

Before either of us can stop him, he's already standing. A minute later he's gone, leaving me alone with Ash. The silence settles between us.

I take a sip of my beer.

Ash keeps his eyes on the television mounted above the bar. A hockey game is playing. I watch him watch it. His jaw is tight. His shoulders look tense. The longer I look, the more certain I become that something is bothering him.

“Your friend is nice.”

Ash nods. “Mhm.”

I wait.

Nothing else comes. A couple days ago, he wouldn't shut up. Now he's barely speaking.

I nudge his leg beneath the table.

The movement finally earns his attention. “What?”

“What is your problem?”

His eyebrows rise. “I don't have a problem.”

“You've barely spoken to me all night.”

Ash looks away again. The hockey game suddenly becomes fascinating.

My irritation grows. “Did I do something?”