Life Before Read Online Free Page B

talking about hiking. Something about her family? She’s wearing shorts, and her bare legs show a little blue in the moonlight. This is just how she looks in my dreams, but with a looser T-shirt.
    The dream ends abruptly when I walk right into those blue legs.
    “Sorry.”
    “No, it was me.” Her voice is sweet. “I thought we should stop. This is a better face-to-face kind of thing.”
    I can’t quite reconstruct her recent words in my head. Hiking? Taxi lights? Flip-flops?
    I give up. “What’s a better face-to-face thing?”
    She can’t really look at me. “This is awkward.”
    Well, now it is. In this grove of walnut trees, we’re not walking and not talking and not knowing what to do.
    I don’t mind much. I mean, the drunks are so far away that I can’t really hear them. And the scenery is excellent: I could stare at Gretchen for the rest of my life and be happy.
    It’s not quite as easy to stare at someone for the rest of your life when she is staring back, though. I study Gretchen’s flip-flops.
    Finally, after an awkward eternity, she says, “I’m sorry. I just. I don’t know where to start. I had this whole speech planned out, and I … I broke up with Jameson.”
    “I’m sorry.” All I can come up with is that complete and utter lie? I guess it’s the truth if I look at the relationship from Jameson’s perspective. I’m sorry for him, truly.
    “ I’m not sorry. I just—argh!” Gretchen walks in circles, shaking out her hands like a crazy person. Or someone who is trying to deny she is in serious physical pain.
    Neither alternative is good.
    “This is supposed to be poetic.” She holds a young tree’s trunk and spins around it a few times. “Okay. Okay.”
    This is completely unlike my articulate friend Gretchen.
    “Have you been drinking?”
    “No. No, Xander, I have not been drinking. I have not been doing anything.” She shouts skyward: “Anything! For almost three months!”
    Her wildness makes my arm hair stand on end in the most electric way.
    “Okay,” she says. “Okay. Do you remember that day in February when we were discussing In the Lake of the Woods ? I hated it. Half the class was trying to defend it, some people were defending me. And you said, ‘Gretchen, it’s not the answers authors give, but the questions they raise that make them interesting.’ And then you rattled off a bunch of other books that leave readers with more questions than answers. Remember?”
    Not really. But I recognize it as a thought in my head, so it’s plausible. Also, I want this craziness to continue, so I nod.
    “It struck me that I’ve been with Jameson for years, and he’s sweet, don’t get me wrong, but you look at the world differently. You counter my ideas and make me think. You challenge me and you get my bad math jokes, and—I don’t know. We fit. I’m trying to say we fit.”
    I can’t say anything to that.
    “Xander, we have been friends for years. I think you’re the peanut butter to my jelly. The Pierre to my Marie Curie? I don’t know, maybe we’re twin primes? Point is, I know you want to date me.”
    Cringe.
    “No, it’s mutual. I’m telling you I’m interested. Really interested. I broke up with Jameson in March, and the rule is you have a mourning period of 10 percent of the length of your relationship—or two weeks, whichever is longer—so I’m done mourning now. I know your taxi light is on. I know you think I’m your anglerfish life partner.”
    I have no idea what half of that shit means, but I know this is my moment. I step forward and kiss her square on the mouth.
    Our lips are pressed together and I’m not sure what to do next. I pull back to find her wide-eyed and grinning, so I lean in for more, this time with my arms around her back. Gosh, she is warm. And electric. Touching her is magical. I want our heat to melt us together so we are one hot mass of flesh and pleasure.
    I want to slip my hand up her shirt, to feel the heat of her back