Page 9 of Keep Paris

“No. I’m an observer, that’s all.”

She smiles up at me and kisses me quickly. It’s the first time she’s kissed me first. I glance at my watch. I want to mark the time and place in my memory when I fell for her for real. She’s a secret artist, too.

“Your turn. What’s another of your secrets? Mr. Jock. Football stud. Sexy star quarterback. Boston College royalty.” I cringe and she notices. “I’m sorry. Was that wrong?”

I turn away and try to let it go, but she pulls me back. I say, “It’s fine. I thought you saw more than that; that’s all.” Complete kick in the crotch, and for the first time since we met, my dick is totally deflated. “It’s cool.”

I stand up and drift down the room. I say, “Come on. We should get back.” She gathers her stuff and scurries after me. My legs are long, so I’m well ahead of her. I need a second. I didn’t know she liked me for that. Fuck. I head towards the exit, and when I reach the staircase, she catches up. She’s huffing a little. I hitch my backpack and turn to let her go up the stairs first. She smiles weakly and pushes past me. Things are totally different now.

* * *

She’s been quiet and respectful of my shit-ass attitude. Our thighs are touching but nothing else. I keep making a fist, releasing it, and breathing to calm down. I can’t believe I fucking fell for it. I hoped she’d see how much the museum means to me. That there’s more to me than a dumb, useless, shallow jock athlete. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her that I draw. I use football to get laid occasionally, but she looked at me differently. Her hands are folded in her lap and she’s staring down again.

She says in the smallest voice, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I’m so sorry.”

I say without looking at her, “It’s fine.” We ride another two stops sitting in the uncomfortable silence. I stand and move around trying to shake it off. I want to go for a run but can’t right now. I’m itchy in my skin but I exhale and sit back down.

She moves her hand tentatively towards mine. Then she retracts it. And when she does that, I realize I’m no better than my fucking father or hers. I made her feel shitty about something that’s my fucking problem.

“No. I’m sorry. It’s ok. I wanted to be more than a jock to you. But it’s ok if you want to date a football player. It’s fine.”

She doesn’t look up but says, “I like all of you.” Then we’re quiet again. It’s fucking tense. I stay next to her but I need her to make the first move. I want her to choose me. Another stop, and she tries again to touch me. Two more stops and finally, she links her pinkie with mine. That’s the right timing. I’m ready to be touched and she was brave enough to ignore my bullshit. I reach over with my other hand and lift her chin.

Her voice is small. “I know what it’s like to feel as though you’re something other than what people see. I want to see all of you.”

I can’t breathe right. It’s like I took a hard hit in practice. No one has ever been that kind of intimate. I wrap around her and pull her close, and we ride the rest of the way like that. Just before our stop, I kiss the top of her head and say, “Thank you.”

LIZZIE

I’m on my bed journaling. I haven’t seen Danny much today, just for breakfast. Kris bursts into my room and flops onto my bed. “Whatcha doing?”

“Writing.”

“Tell me it’s for fun and not your dad. We’re all going clubbing.”

“Really? Where?”

“Some place Tony found.” I sit up, pull up my knees, and rest my chin on them. “Can I play stylist?” she asks. She tucks a short hair behind her ear. It’s what she wants to do in life and I’m her favorite test subject. I’ll wash my face before we go out. I always do.

I shrug and she squeals.

* * *

I finish my champagne spritzer, and my head is light, but my makeup is heavy. I look pretty, but not myself.

“Pink or red for your lips?”

“Chapstick.”

“Red it is.” She opens her mouth slightly for me to mirror the position, then applies. It’s been super warm the last couple of days, like winter disappeared suddenly. It’s the beginning of March and I hope we can walk to the club.

“Cool. You’re ready.” There’s a knock on the door and I realize Kris didn’t get dressed up.

“Hey, are you not going out?’

“Nah, none of us are. Julian and I are hanging out. There’s a poker game going on in Makenzie’s room or something. We might wander down later.”

“Then why am I dressed like slutty Barbie?”