Page 27 of Every November

I get the impression that’s not his usual behavior, but I’m not judging. I’d take him either way: happy and carefree or eager and following me like a lost puppy.

Me:

Did you just finish it?

Evan:

Yes! It’s so good, I had to tell you

I reread that again. I had to tell you. Not his friends. Me.

And maybe he did text other people, but I can’t remember the last time someone couldn’t wait to tell me something just because they liked it. I don’t know what to do with that, so I do what I always do.

Me:

Good thing you did. I don’t know how else I’d go on without knowing

Evan:

Smartass. You’ll thank me though.

He’s not wrong on either count.

I watched the show over the next few days, and he’s right. It is good. Not that I doubted him. I didn’t guess the ending, either. Well, I guessed the guy wouldn’t go back to jail and that he’d prove he didn’t commit the crime, and I was right about that.

But I’m sure everyone knew that, or it wouldn’t have made good television.

Despite Evan’s request, I didn’t send him guesses throughout. But I text him now that I’m finished.

Me:

Good recommendation

Evan:

Does this mean you watched it?

Me:

Yeah

Evan:

Not one single update either. Breaking my heart here, Marcus!

Me:

Seems like you’re the better listener of the two of us

I picture his cheeks flushing at the reminder of how well he listened last November. The dots appear and then disappear, and I hold my breath while I wait.

Evan:

It’s been a while. Guess I need a reminder.

The breath I was holding rushes out of me. There’s no way I’m misreading that. My pulse kicks up, and suddenly my night just got a lot more interesting.

Me: