Second Chance (22 page)

“I have money,” I say
.
I hope
.
I
dig into the front pocket of my jeans and pull out a
crumpled
wad of
cash
.
I
separate the E
uros from a few dollar bills.

I squint up at
the
prices
listed
on the
blackboard
—
I’m determined not to go over my $3.75
.
Gray starts talking to
a
girl behind the cash register and I try to make my mind up but
e
ven the
condiment
s on the
counter look appetizing
.
I start to
salivate
at the ketchup and mustard dispensers
.
I haven’t had ketchup in months
.
I
reach over and
pump a dab
of red sauce
on my finger and suck it off
slowly to enjoy the
sweet tomato
flavor
.

“
Mmm
,
that’s
so good
,
”
I
say to no one in particular
.
I reach my finger out to taste the mustard
,
but Gray grabs my
wrist
.
 

“It’s not an appetizer,” he
informs me
.
             
“
Hey, w
ant to know the most bizarre
food item I’ve ever seen on a menu?” I ask him.

He raises his eyebrows.

“Bull testicles
.
Isn’t that sick
?
I
t’s
considered
a
delicacy.”

“Where
?
In prison?” he asks.

“In Montana, I think
.
T
hey’re called Rocky Mountain Oysters and—”

“Would you just order?”
Gray barks
.

I face forward obediently, like a kid reprimanded by an impatient parent
.
The
g
irl behind the counter
narrows her eyes at
me, but i
t
’s
more out of curiosity than annoyance
.

She’s wearing a Brew House
T
-shirt,
the front featuring a
yellow outline of a coffee mug with steam curling above the cup
.
Over the
T
-shirt
she’s wearing
a bright
orange apron that looks like a tattoo artist
practiced patterns
using a black
magic marker
.
There are
swirling snakes and
daggers and
dragons and skulls and crossbones
all over it
.
The images are
angry
and morbid and I sense an “I hate
my life,” vibe radiating off
her
.
There’s even an illustration of a python strangling a coffee mug
.
I
meet her eyes and smile
.
Her
outfit
makes an obvious statement.

“
Great apron,” I tell her
.
“I get the feeling
this
isn’t your dream job
?
”
She yanks on her lip ring and glances at Gray
.

“I think that’s the first thing you said to me,” she tells him
.

I order a sandwich
and
set my money on the counter
.
I notice this girl glance at me and back at Gray and Gray look
s
at me and back at her like we’re playing stare tag
.
I decide to call them out on their little
game
.

“Listen,” I say
.
“If I have toothpaste stuck to my face, would one of you just point it out instead of
gawking
at me?”

“You must be Dylan,” she says
.
I nod and she extends her
small
hand to shake mine
.
“I’m Lenny,” she says
.
“It’s an honor.”

GRAY

T
ake a deep breath
.
Okay, so the ghost of
love’s
past just paid
you
a surprise visit
.
No reason to freak out
.

      
I slam my hands into the pocket of my
hooded
sweatshirt and
stomp
to class
.
I avoid eye contact
.
Usually every other person I pass recognize
s
me on campus
, b
ut
I can’t muster up a fake smile right now
.
Not when my chest is smoking
.
I pull the
rim
of my cap down low and turn my music up
.

My
lips
flatten
into a tight line
.
This is not happening.

She is
not
staying
.

Dylan’s
a smart girl
.
She definitely got the hint
that
I’m
not exactly thrilled to see her
.
She might even be gone before
I
get back on Sunday
and that
would be for the best
.
Besides, w
hat do
we
have to say to each other
?
Neither of
us
do
es
small talk
,
and why
rehash
old memories that are better swept under the rug
?

We
can’t recreate what
we had
.
You can’t bring back the past
.
So wh
y fight about
it
?

Also,
I’m
obviously
not attracted to her
.
I take a deep sigh of relief as this fact
resonates through my mind, like cold ice soothing a burn
.
What did
I
ever
see in her
?
She’s skinnier than
I
remembered. S
he almost looks malnourished
.
I
like curves
.
And that
wild
h
air—is she ever going to cut it
?
Her clothes—seriously, she’s too old to dress like
a bum
.
It was
interesting
in
Phoenix
because it was different, but now it’s just embarrassing
.
People know
me
on
campus
.
I
can’t be seen with a girl
who looks like
I
picked her up from the local soup kitchen
.
People
are going to assume
I’m
doing community service
, not hanging out with my
girlfriend
.

I
have an image to maintain
.

B
ut she smell
ed
really
good in my shampoo and her eyes still ma
ke the energy in the room shift
.  H
er smile
still
heats
the air and my mind and makes something hollow feel occupied by something
warm
.

But that’s just because
we
’ve been intimate
.
Some feelings are bound to resurface
.
That’s normal
.
We’ve
had sex
.
We’v
e had sex m
ultiple, okay, maybe hundreds of times
.
An
d it was toe-curling, mind-blow
ing
—