Page 59 of It’s All in How You Fall
“Holdout!” Peregrine crows accusingly, coming into frame.
I add, “Spill!”
“Youspill!” Sunny orders me, ducking into the shade of one of the few trees in the parking lot. She glances up and gives a little wave as admirers come and go during the practice-time change-over—I mean, if you’re an elite with a national track record, everyone wants to say hi to you all the time. That’s the curse of being Sunny. “Alex said something?”
“Not much before he turned red and started barking drills to avoid my many questions. Just that he’d texted you and a date on Friday was the result.”
“Yes—I know that means no girls’ dinner…” We’d just adjusted to Fridays because that truly did work the best for all of us most consistently. “Maybe I should change it?”
I furiously shake my head. “No, no. His calendar is a Tetris board. If he came up with the time, roll with it.”
“We can handle ourselves,” Peregrine adds with a side-eye to me that says YES we are hanging together, waiting for updates on Friday night. I almost mouth, “Your place or mine?” when Sunny’s face suddenly takes up the whole screen, eyes wide.
“I’m supposed to pick the restaurant—what’s he like to eat?”
“He’s a teenage boy. He’ll eat literally anything you put in front of him,” Peregrine answers.
“Uh, Caro, can you help pare down Peregrine’s very sage advice, please?”
Bruno’s immediately pops into my head, but if he took two girls there in the span of a little more than a week, the waitstaff would certainly notice. I mean, they’re going to remember him—who wouldn’t? Burger Fu would do, except that Sunny doesn’t eat half the food there. “How about Eomma?” I ask. “It’s cute, we know exactly how busy it is on a Friday, and I’d imagine he could probably put away some bibimbap in a major way.”
My view quakes as Peregrine smacks Sunny on the arm. “That’s it. Perfect.” Peregrine’s lips twist. “And you can impress him with your ability to magically make extra kimchi appear. The ability to conjure free food is likely high on the list of traits in a good mate.”
Sunny immediately shields the majority of her horrified face with a hand. “Did you have to use the termmate?”
Peregrine smirks. “No, I just wanted to see you make exactly that face.”
“Jesus Christ, you two,” Sunny exclaims, hand sliding down her features, which are as red as if she’d been working handstands for the last forty-five minutes. “There will be no mating. Only bibimbap!”
“Mmm-hmmm.” Peregrine’s got an incredulous brow that is perfection.
Sunny sighs and resets, the color still high in her cheeks. “That said, Eomma’s a good idea. That’s a place where we can havepolite conversation. And get to know each other.”
“I mean, we know him. Do you want a crash course ahead of time?” Peregrine asks.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure I can swing a PowerPoint presentation complete with ancient photos by Friday,” I add.
“That won’t be necessary,” Sunny insists, making full eye contact with both of us one at a time to drive home her point. “I don’t want to come in creepy. I’d rather get to know him organically. No crash course, no PowerPoint, no nada.”
“Fine, but you will tell us how it goes, right?” I ask, halting in the shade of a tree that edges the rosebush border of the park. The basketball court is empty, which is surprising—I very much expected to see Nat and maybe even Alex shooting hoops.
Sunny purses her lips. “Only if you tell me how it went for him.”
I glance away, trying my hardest not to cringe. What if Alex asks the same thing? I’ve gone from matchmaker to double agent. I don’t know that I can manage the embarrassment of sharing with both sides without exposing the way I really feel.
But Sunny’s got Olga’s stare powers, and my face seems to warm from it through the phone, so I shrug and say, “Sure thing.”
I’m too chicken to ask Alex what he’s thinking about the date. So chicken, in fact, that I have no idea how I’m going to keep my promise long enough to even attempt asking him how it actually went.
I don’t want him thinking that I’m talking with Sunny behind his back, even though I sort of am.
And not to mention my own heart’s been having a heck of a time this week, running wind sprints between being thrilled about this possible love connection and also crushed by, you know, my crush.
But all that’s bottled inside me, compartmentalized as much as any extracurricular thoughts I had during a judged routine. Tunnel vision is in my skill set and nothing says I can’t use it here.
And so, every tennis practice this week is the same: business as usual.
Alex asking me if I ran in the morning. (The answer is always yes.)
