Page 23 of The Upside of Falling
His eyebrows rise. “You’re going to waste one of your questions on when my birthday is?”
“I told you I feel put on the spot. You can’t just spring this on a girl and tell her she has three questions. The pressure is getting to me, and I’m choking here, Colby.”
Shaking his head playfully, he says, “December 21st.”
“Really? That’s so close. You’re going to be twenty . . .”
“Two,” he finishes for me, a tilt to his chin.
“Oh, old man. Have any plans?”
“Is that your third question?”
“I . . . uh . . . no. It’s a tagalong question to my last one. I get them because you don’t elaborate on anything.”
Shifting his jaw slowly back and forth, he studies me sharply, assessing, calculating, waiting to make his next move. It’s intimidating and thrilling at the same time. I’ve never met anyone like him before, so controlled. It’s incredible.
Finally he answers, “No plans. I don’t really celebrate my birthday, haven’t in a long time.”
I can feel my brow pinch together, because the thought of someone not celebrating their birthday upsets me. Maybe it’s because my parents go above and beyond when it comes to celebrating, but my heart hurts for Colby. What’s his parents’ deal? It’s a good question, but one I don’t think he’ll answer at the bowling alley under black lights and lasers reflecting off the wall and floors.
“That makes me sad. No cake? No presents?”
He shrugs. “That stuff doesn’t matter to me.”
“Not even an ice cream cake?”
Chuckling, he shakes his head. His voice is so deep when he says, “Not even ice cream cake.”
Propped up, crossing my arms over my chest, I try to cut him with my glare, like he does to me. “That’s just wrong. Should be illegal. There should always be some kind of cake on your birthday.”
He doesn’t answer me, just stares, eyes intent on mine, facing off. I never thought I’d meet a man who’d make me feel so invigorated and curious simultaneously. He isn’t a challenge, because I sense I could possibly break through to him. He’s more of a mystery, a puzzle with missing pieces that I need to find and put back together. He’s complicated.And he’s out of luck because I really like puzzles.Is that why I’m so drawn to him?
“What’s your third question?” he asks, right before Stryder walks up to us and taps the table where we’re sitting.
“Our time is up. We have to get home before my dad has a coronary. You already turned your shoes in?”
Colby nods, keeping his eyes on me.
When Stryder takes off, I hold my hand up and say, “This isn’t my third question, but why does Stryder’s dad care if you two are home?”
“Stryder’s dad is super strict, especially after we were out all night at the party on Tuesday. He thinks cadets shouldn’t be partying, but practicing and preparing for their future.”
“Eh, gross. It’s called living a little.”
He chuckles and looks over his shoulder. “Yeah, it just about kills Stryder, given his penchant for having a good time. Me, not so much.”
I poke his shoulder. “Don’t be a bore, Colby.”
“Come on, man,” Stryder calls from the shoe desk.
Hopping off his bar stool, Colby adjusts his jeans, pulling them up only for them to slip down on his narrow hips. “You have about five seconds to ask your last question.”
Tongue-tied and feeling the pressure, I say the one thing that’s been on my mind since I met this guy. Locking my eyes with him, pulling all the courage I have inside me, I ask, “Will you take me out on a date?”
I don’t think Colby was expecting that because for a brief moment, he drops the impenetrable façade and looks sincerely shocked.
“Colby,” Stryder shouts.
