Page 50 of You Again

Zev: Two, I’m glad to hear you aren’t going to go out with Robert. He doesn’t deserve you.

I reread the text three times, smirk, and close out my phone. I need Zev’s friendship. I can’t explain it. I just do. And while we disagree on the topic of Robert Pattinson, I’m getting used to it. Everyone disagrees with me on this topic. I’m not going to let that little fact affect my new friendship.

Me: Do you still want to hang out with me on the Fourth?

Zev: I do.

Me: Okay then. I’m in.

Zev: See you in three days then.

Me: Or… Lunch tomorrow?

Zev: I’ll bring you a book.

Me: Nope. It’s my turn. I’ve got something for you to read.

Twenty-Four

“I trust Zevulun Hayes,” I say aloud. Because I need a pep talk. Because I’m sitting outside his apartment building on the Fourth of July telling myself to be brave and to get out of this car and go inside. And because I believe what I’ve said. I do trust Zev. Our friendship may be new, but he’s proven himself a good man again and again.

It helps that it’s nine o’clock and the fireworks start at ten. And that it’ll be just the two of us. Fran would have had me at her house making small talk from six until eleven. In this scenario, I am in and out in less than two hours. It’s just Zev. It’s just me. No small talk needed.

I can do this.

The last Fourth of July that I remember, I was with Robert and Fran. It was a big event. We went to the college stadium and watched the fireworks with thousands of other students in Reno. It was loud and fun and big.

The exact opposite of what I’m up for this year.

Zev has invited me over for quiet, small, without the entire UNR population. However, I’m still anxious. I could have stayed home, alone. I could have gone to bed early with Grammy. So, what am I doing here?

I don’t want to be at Fran’s party.

But I don’t want to be alone either. And Zev has a way of settling my nerves instead of riling them up.

“Hey, look at me, getting a handle on my anxiety.”

There’s a tap on my driver’s side window and I start, slapping a hand to my heart. Okay, maybe I spoke too soon. I’m not getting a handle on anything.

I peer over to Zev and my racing heart slows. He’s got two camping chairs slung across his overachieving shoulder and a canvas bag in the other hand. He gives me an apologetic smile. His lips move, and I easily make out his “sorry.” He didn’t mean to startle me. And truly maybe that’s all it was. I was startled. The end.

I already feel less anxious just looking at him.

This is going to be a million times easier than Fran’s party. And with that thought, I open my car door. Zev steps back and out of the way.

“Hi,” I say, then nod toward his camping supplies. “What are those for?”

“We can’t see the fireworks from my apartment. We’re going to the roof.”

Slowly, my lips form a grin. “We are?” Somehow not going into Zev’s apartment calms my nerves that were misbehaving—again.

“Yep. I stole the key to the access door.”

This makes me giggle. While Zev is big, sprouting muscles like a kid with chickenpox, I cannot imagine him stealing or bullying anything out of anyone. He is a gentle giant. That’s always been clear.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I will return it. And Hal the security guard will never know it went missing.”

“You are so much more trouble than I realized.”