Mel takes a deep breath and toys with her locket. “I think we’re getting too close and we need to remember our original deal. We’re doing each other a mutual favor. I’m teaching you the ropes; you’re keeping my asshole ex at bay. We’re not actually dating.”
Yikes. Ok, so doomsday is here… Before I can even process any of that, my mind snags on one detail, and I ask her about it, my tone casual. “Yeah, how’s that going anyway? The guy glares at me in class, so I figure he’s not my biggest fan, but is he still bugging you?”
She looks at the carpet and appears to pick up a stray thread off of it. “I’ve got Chaz under control, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Good,” I say, nodding. “That guy seems like a tool, so I’m glad he’s not bugging you.”
Again, she’s staring at the ground, and I feel like the clock is running out, like I’ve got seconds left and I’m not in scoring distance.
Mel sighs. “Look, we’re just getting in too deep, that’s all. It’s easy to get carried away, but I’m afraid one of us is going to get hurt if we keep this up.”
One of us is getting hurt right now, I think, but keep my mouth shut. I’m gonna let her talk, let her say what she needs to say.
“This has been fun, actually…way more fun than I thought it would be, and…” She shakes her head, like she’s not sure what to say next. “The other night? Meeting your family? That was—”
Now it’s my turn to sigh. And I have to interrupt, because well, I just do. “I get it, ok? My parents are a lot. Trust me. I spent eighteen years living in their house. They come on strong. Especially my mom. They only do it because they care, but…yeah. I didn’t know she was making you a shirt. Or bringing half my baby albums. I’m sorry.” It was probably unfair of me to sic my parents on Mel, knowing how overbearing they can be, but a part of me hoped that it would go well. And hell, I thought it had. My mom already bought Mel’s Christmas pj’s for our annual card. And that’s a detail I should definitely keep to myself.
“That’s the problem, Will. I kind of love your mom.”
Wait, what?I shake my head. “How is that a problem? Shit, did my dad do something? He’s usually pretty chill, compared to Mom, at least. Unless you're a Maple Leafs fan.”
Mel shakes her head. “Your dad is great.”
“Did Wes piss you off? ‘Cause he’s starting a fan club in your honor, like, this very minute. He keeps texting me and telling me to hang on to you for dear life and not to fuck it up. Shit. DidIfuck it up? Mel, whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
She grabs a blanket from the basket on the floor and drapes it around herself. “It wasn’t you, Will. It was already fucked… We were doomed from the start.”
None of this is computing in my brain.Doomed? What is she talking about?
“How though? I thought… Look, if you’re not physically attracted to me—God, we should stop. I’d never—”
Mel laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “That is not the problem. I definitely want you physically.”
That’s good, but damn. That only leaves one reason she’s breaking up with me. “Wow. So, it’s my personality. Ok, well…”
“Stop—it’s not that either. You’ve grown on me, Franconetti. I kind of love having you around.”
Those words do things to me, but I’m not dumb enough to point out her word choice. My mama didn’t raise no fool. “So…to summarize, you want me, and you like me…but you can’t date me?”
“Exactly.”
“The fuck does that make sense? Like, I know I’m new to all of this and behind the curve, but uh, we’re kinda perfect for each other, if you haven’t noticed.”
Mel curls deeper into her blanket, as though it’s a cocoon that will protect her. “I have noticed and that’s the problem. Look, I’ll go to the charity function this weekend, like I promised, but after that, we need to spend some time apart. We can blame midterms or my work schedule or something, but we just need to slow this down. I’m leaning on you when I should be concentrating on my future. And you’re spending time with me when you should be out there living it up. We’re just…getting too comfortable with each other. And if we’re not careful, one of us is going to catch feelings.”
I look at her, small and sweet and all but swallowed up by that couch and shield of a blanket. And I think about what she’s saying, how careful and cautious she’s urging us to be. I should probably nod and accept it, because, like in all things, Mel’s probably right. We are getting attached. We are too comfortable together. We fit into each other’s lives seamlessly right now, but that won’t always be the case. I’m not clueless. I know she’s graduating in December, and if all goes to plan in my life, I’ll be moving across the country in a couple years to play hockey on the West Coast. What we’ve built isn’t sustainable. But it could be.
Because there’s always a chance. Her eyes look heavy, tired, as though she’s been crying or hasn’t slept, or some combination of both. She’s holding herself around the middle as if to ward me off, but I’m not buying it. Because if what she says is true, that she wants me physically and emotionally and mentally and any which way she can have me without actually dating me? Then I’m going all in. I’m skating like there’s infinite time on the clock instead of mere seconds. While other guys slow down and hang their heads and let the clock run out, I’m barreling down the ice looking for a chance to score.
I don’t quit.
“You think if we keep this up, one of us might catch feelings?” I ask, my voice as even as I can make it.
“Yeah,” she says quietly, nodding.
“I already have.” I blurt, no filter at all. Mel looks up at me, her eyes wide.But I don’t regret my words. I’m gonna be straightforward with her. There’s no room for bullshit here. I’ve got no shame and nothing to hide. And if I walk away without the win, so be it. But it won’t be because I gave up the fight. “That’s the truth, Mel. I’m halfway in love with you already.If you don’t like it, ok, I’ll leave and our deal is over. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want you, that I want to keep doing what we’re doing. I want it to be real, Mel, because it’s real for me.”
My words settle in around her. She doesn’t look angry or annoyed. But she also doesn’t look elated. Instead, she looks torn. “I already went over this with Josie…it won’t work.”
