Raspberry #2
Zane took a slow bite of his donut; his eyes didn’t leave mine as he chewed. There was a crumb at the corner of his mouth that made him look human, less like a statue.
“I just told him the truth,” Zane said after swallowing. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “That she’s a lot of work and I’ve already got the job; it’s a lifetime appointment.”
“A lot of work?” I repeated, a small spark of a smile tugging at my lips. “Is that what I am? I thought I was pretty low maintenance.”
“You are.” Zane reached out. He used his thumb to brush a stray strand of hair away from my face.
His skin was warm, slightly rough, and the contact sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with the sugar from the donuts.
“It’s just hard work staying vigilant all the time, always ready to poison coffee and give orders to the snipers on the roof. ”
He paused, looking at me while I tried to fight the smile forming on my lips. “It’s not an easy project,” he said, humor fading, “but the results are coming along and it’s worth it.”
Cassidy shook her head. “If you two start reciting poetry, I’m leaving with the rest of the bag. Seren, don’t let him get away with that ‘project’ talk. He’s been obsessed with your ‘results’ since his first day at West Bridge.”
“Like you can talk,” I said as I turned to her. “You and O practically showed me the meaning of pining when we were in high school.”
“Yeah,” Cassidy said like my words didn’t affect her, though a faint blush came to her cheeks.
“That was high school. This is college, not even freshman college. We’re almost graduates.
We are adults. High school pining is one thing, this…
” Cassidy gestured excessively at me and Zane. “It’s a whole different scenario.”
“Oh, you love it,” I said, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.
I knew Cassidy was not being serious. In fact, her words were the opposite of what she really felt.
Cassidy loved Zane like a girl loves her younger brother.
She might tease him and try to make him blush, but the only thing she really wants is for him to be happy.
“Speaking of O,” Zane said, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “How is he doing? He hasn’t been here in a few weeks. I don’t know how you’re even surviving, since it seems you two need to breathe the same oxygen to live.”
Cassidy closed her eyes and leaned her head back in an exaggerated agreement of his words. “I know. It’s been the worst three weeks of my life. I miss him so much, but he has really important finals this year and the drive just does not make sense when he needs to work and study and go to classes.”
“Do you remember freshman year when he would come here twice a week to see you?” I asked her. “Life really would’ve been easier if he had just come here with us.”
“I know, I know,” Cassidy agreed, “you are preaching to the choir, but I guess he really couldn’t turn down a full ride, no matter how much he misses me.
Plus, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask him to do that.
To answer your question, though, he’s good.
He’s tired. His eyes hurt from studying all damn day.
But he’s good. He is always good. He is my O. ”
“Well,” said Zane, “I miss the guy, so when he’s done all of the studying and working and constant phone calls with his long-distance high school sweetheart, tell him to get back up here.”
Cassidy laughed. Then she took out her phone, her nails making a satisfying tapping sound as she moved her thumbs against the screen. “Task complete,” she said, “told.”
She put the phone down on the metal table in front of us. “So, what do you two love birds have planned for this beautiful Tuesday afternoon?”
“Well, it is Tuesday,” I started, but Zane finished the sentence before I could speak it.
“Which means Seren has therapy, and no, she’s not skipping.” He looked pointedly at me, knowing I had already asked him the same thing last night before bed.
“Why would she skip?” Cassidy asked, the humor of our conversation faintly falling from her face, replaced by the same concerned look people tend to wear around me. Less often now, though, which is why I noticed when it came back.
I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. Zane nudged my foot with his boot under the table, as if to say yeah Seren, why would you skip?
“I don’t know,” Zane told Cassidy. “Ask her.”
“What? Why am I under attack?” I looked between the two of them, both wearing the concern-face now. “I just want to go home and give my brain a rest.”
It felt like my brain had been doing laps around a football field, like there was too much information I was trying to catch up with. They should understand that. After all, my major was nowhere near as hard as theirs was. Mine should feel like a game of hopscotch comparatively.
“That’s fair,” Cassidy agreed. I raised my eyebrows at Zane. See, my side, Zane. Not yours. “Are you two hungry? These donuts didn’t go far.”
“I have us covered,” Zane answered for both of us, surprising me.
I watched him as he dipped to reach his backpack, then pulled out two wrapped sandwiches, pushing one down in front of me.
He took note of my expression. “Tuna fish,” he explained without me asking, his left eye forming a wink so quick I almost missed it.
I laughed, the memory of the car ride home from West Bridge surfacing back into my mind. I had almost forgotten that conversation entirely.
“Sorry, Cass,” Zane said, smiling as he spoke the words. I knew that he was not like me, the memory wasn’t pushing his happiness. No, I knew better. Zane was smiling because I was laughing. “I didn’t bring an extra.”
“Tuna? Yuck, thank God you didn’t.” Cassidy wore a look of disgust on her face as she glanced down at the sandwich on the table. Then her eyes darted between our faces slowly, like she was trying to solve a riddle. “What is so funny? Why are you staring at each other like that?”
“Nothing,” I said, letting my eyes leave Zane’s face. “I… just used to hate tuna fish.” I felt slightly bad for not letting her inside of our joke, but I didn’t think it would be as funny to her. “Now I don’t.”
“You used to hate everything,” Cassidy replied, her eyebrows raising, mirroring Zane’s reaction from the car. “Except…”
“Except vodka, cigarettes and me,” Zane finished her sentence.
“Well, exactly,” Cassidy nodded. “Though, she kind of hated you too, at first, let’s not forget.”
“Hey!” I swatted her arm, checking Zane’s face out of habit but he was still smiling. “That is not true… I didn’t hate him. It was just…” I stilled, awkwardly trying to find the right words. “You know…”
“General indifference.” Zane found the ones I was looking for.
We all knew that this was not something that was a surprise.
Out of everyone, Zane was the most aware of the evolution of my feelings for him.
But whatever it was I felt for Zane before I fell I in love with him was certainly not hate.
I couldn’t quite name it, but I knew it was not that.
“General indifference?” Cassidy snorted, dusting powdered sugar off her fingers. “Please. We thought you were his imaginary friend that he invented to get through being forced into private school. But hey, tuna sandwiches and handholding. Look at you two now. No more general indifference.”
“Don’t ruin the moment, Cass,” Zane said softly. He didn’t let go of my hand, his thumb tracing over my knuckles. “I worked hard for this.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t start sharing the tuna,” she said, though her eyes were soft as she looked at us.
She grabbed her now empty bag of donuts and pushed her chair back, the harsh metal scrape sounding a lot friendlier this time.
“I’m going to leave you two to your romantic seafood lunch before the smell makes me lose my appetite.
See you in bio, Zane. Seren, don’t let him eat your sandwich. ”
With a dramatic roll of her eyes and a quick wave, she melted into the lunch-time crowd, leaving a pocket of quiet behind at our table.
The campus hummed around us, the chatter of students, the rustle of leaves, the heavy thud of backpacks, but inside our little perimeter, the air felt perfectly still.
I looked down at our joined hands, then up at Zane.
He was already looking at me, his expression relaxed, the defensive wall he had a habit of wearing when anyone else was around us was completely gone.
He did not look away from me. Gray skies felt a little more like a sunrise these days.
“You don’t hate everything anymore,” he murmured, his voice was low, but I caught the subtle appreciation in it.
“No,” I admitted, a smile forming on my lips as I reached for the sandwich with my free hand. “Not everything.”
“Is it easier?” he asked me, looking into my eyes the way he usually did when my answer meant something to him. As if he could see the truth inside my mind.
I looked down at the wrapped sandwich in my hand, tracing the neat edge of the plastic wrap, before looking back up into the intensity of his eyes.
Zane did not ask questions just to fill the silence.
When he asked if something was easier, he was asking if the world had stopped feeling like a battlefield I was fighting in alone, if only for an hour.
“Some parts,” I said, but recalibrated more honestly. “Most parts. And most parts being easier is a massive upgrade from everything sucks.”
I wished I could tell him that everything was easy now, but I didn’t want to lie to him.
It was not entirely easier. The campus was still too loud, the people were still unpredictable variables, and I still spent too much time looking for the hidden thorns in every pleasant interaction.
But I looked at his hand, still resting near mine on the table, and then up at the steady curve of his jaw.