By the time the dessert arrived—a white chocolate mousse with raspberry—Kathleen felt exhausted. Ava was still talking, still smiling, but her laughter began to sound too loud, too practiced.
Ava reached for her hand halfway through the dessert. “You’re so tense,” she said. “You should let yourself have a little fun.”
Kathleen gently withdrew her hand. “I thought this would help,” she said quietly.
“Help with what?”
Kathleen shook her head. “I have a problem communicating socially.”
Ava smiled at her sympathetically and went back to her mousse.
As the night wore on, Kathleen couldn’t help comparing Ava to Veronica. Ava was bright, but tooout therefor her. Veronica had been steady. She listened. She waited. She didn’t fill the silence with anecdotes about influencers and parties on Greek Islands. And even when Kathleen had faltered, Veronica had made space for her without asking her to be anything else.
Veronica had felt real.
Ava, for all her charm, didn’t have substance.
The difference was vast, widening every minute.
When the boat docked, they disembarked and strolled to the taxi rank. “Do you want to grab a nightcap?” Ava said. “I know a great rooftop bar.”
“I don’t think so,” Kathleen answered quickly. “But thanks for asking.”
When the cab pulled up in front of her building, Ava insisted on walking her to the door.
“Thank you for your company,” Kathleen said, her voice tight. “I hope you enjoyed the evening.”
Ava tilted her head, eyes searching hers for a beat. Then, without warning, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Kathleen’s lips.
It was soft and warm, and Kathleen tried not to flinch. She didn’t pull away, not immediately. She stood still, trying to feel something, but there was nothing. Not a shred of desire.
When Ava drew back, she said huskily, “Do you want me to come up.”
“Not tonight,” Kathleen whispered. “I’m still figuring some things out.”
Ava’s expression shifted into disappointment, but it wasn’t unkind. “Okay. Perhaps another time. It’s not often I get to take out someone young and pretty in this game.”
Kathleen wanted to point out that Ava was the one being taken out, but simply nodded. With a fleeting smile, she turned her key in the lock, and stepped inside.
This time, she didn’t cry. She leaned back against the door with a long breath.
She’d tried socializing but it hadn’t worked.
Ava hadn’t been Veronica and she had no idea what she was going to do with that.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Marise adjusted the collar of her denim jacket and stepped into the Metro.
The scent of popcorn and old upholstery in the lounge hit her immediately, nostalgic and comforting. She hadn't been in a place like this in years—very retro and red. A poster ofThe Day the Earth Stood Stillhung above the ticket counter, its faded edges curling slightly. The kind of theatre that hadn’t changed since the eighties and didn’t plan to start now. She bought a ticket, a small popcorn and a coke, then grabbed a couple of paper serviettes and a straw off the counter.
She walked up the short flight of steps to the door, and once inside, scanned the crowd. It was half full with a mix of students, sci-fi fans, and hipster couples, most with tubs of popcorn. Indie nerds who knew the lines by heart and came for the love of it.
She spotted Ted half-way down. Messy brown hair, black-rimmed glasses, a tan polo shirt with Darth Vader’s picture on the front. He chatted with a male friend, another bespectacled type in a Dune T-shirt.
Marise took a breath and headed down the aisle to the row above him. She plopped into the seat directly behind him, and promptly splashed her coke over his head.
He jolted upright with a startled, “Fuck!”
