Page 127 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“Hey,” I say.

“Come in, come in.” She opens the door. “Shoes off.”

“I’m offended you think I’m someone that would walk into your apartment with my shoeson.” I look at her. “No shoes in the house and no outdoor clothes on the bed are my two solid rules.”

Lucy’s apartment feels like her personified. Within her walls sits a beautifully modern space with a cottage-like aesthetic. She has a giant jute-textured rug sitting underneath a white cloud couch. There’s a vase of flowers sitting on top of her dining table, and her kitchen with marble countertops looks clean and crisp.

“Your place is beautiful,” I say.

“Thanks.” She puts her hands in her back pockets and looks around. “It’s overpriced, but I love it so much. Another reason why keeping my job is essential,” she says with a laugh.

We stare at each other in a somewhat awkward silence before we walk toward each other. Slowly, she takes her hands out of her pockets and reaches them around my neck. My hands go to herhips, and we kiss. It’s nothing crazy or passionate; it’s soft and gentle. Almost as if to sayI missed you today.

Walking places isn’t exactly normal for Los Angeles. Thankfully, Lucy lives in a pretty central part of West Hollywood, so we end up walking down the street to grab Mexican food for a night in. One of the best things about living in LA is the food scene. From food trucks to brick-and-mortar restaurants, I know I will never be disappointed when craving zingy and citrusy birria tacos. But once we take a seat to wait for our order, she jerks her body and drops her head.

“Shit,” she whispers.

I frown. “What?”

“Don’t look,” she says.

“Don’t look at what?”

She briefly lifts her eyes, and I can tell she instantly regrets it.

“Lucy?” a voice behind me says. I turn around and see a man maybe around my age wearing sweatpants and a tank top. Assumingly going or coming from the gym.

“Hey…” Lucy says slowly, like every part of her is deteriorating as each moment passes. Something tells me she’s not necessarily upset to see him, she just wishes I wasn’t here at the same time.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

“Fine,” she says.

They’re clearly comfortable enough that she’s not standing up to say hello. There’s noHey! How’s it going? Long time no see!This is a conversation, if you can even call it that, between two people who are very familiar with each other.

“Uh.” I clear my throat and look up at the guy. “Hi.”

He pulls his gaze from Lucy to me and blinks. “Hi?”

“I’m Marsh.” I offer him my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The guy looks at my hand and then back up at me, confused. “Chris…” He hesitantly shakes it.

Chris…that name sounds familiar. Then I remember the text message I saw on Lucy’s phone when she was over at my house. This must be the same guy.

“Marsh, Chris is an old friend,” Lucy says.

“Oh, is that what I am?” Chris asks, a bite of bitter amusement to his voice.

“Chris…” Lucy warns.

“No, no, I want to know. Is that all I am? Just anold friend?”

I suddenly feel like I’m in an outdated high school scene from some 2000s movie. Come to think of it, this guydoeslook like someone who could be an extra in a 2000s movie.

“Chris, don’t do this right now,” Lucy hisses.

“Afraid I’m going to spoil your Bumble date?” Chris says.