Meet Me in the Middle by Alex Light

Author:Alex Light
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

13

Eden

WHY, WHY, WHY DID it have to happen like this.

Spotting Truman on the street was one thing. There was an entire road between us—that’s so much safe distance. I could pretend I never saw him. Sure, our eyes locked, but for all he knows my vision has severely declined since our last encounter.

But this? Truman standing directly in front of me is too much. Especially when he looks all polished and fancy in a blazer. He even got a fucking haircut. Meanwhile I’m wearing a white button-down shirt with a bow tie, holding this half-empty metal tray in one hand like a dork.

I don’t even bother looking down. If he’s switched his dirty Chucks for loafers, I might lose it entirely.

And why? Why am I noticing his hair is barely two inches shorter than usual? This is not an appropriate response. An appropriate response would be dropping this tray of champagne on the floor and booking it for the door because this cannot be happening. I don’t want this to be happening.

The whirlwind of self-hatred lasts for the single second it takes Truman to say my name.

“Eden?”

I’m half here, half somewhere in the past, lying under the sun with Katie. Truman’s there too, splashing around in the pool. Katie shrieks because the water hits her hair, her legs.

I could just walk away. My job is to literally walk through this room. I could easily move on, pretend I don’t recognize him, go to another guest.

But I don’t. I realize it’s because I don’t want to. I’ve spent months dreading this happening; months thinking I would storm off the second we were reunited because I don’t want anything to do with Truman Falls anymore. Not after what we did that night—what we caused. Yet here he is, and I can’t bring myself to move away. It’s like that day on the sidewalk when, more than anything, I needed him to see me.

And now he has.

“Truman,” I say, my voice somehow sounding hoarse and squeaky at the same time, “what are you doing here?”

His eyes pierce through me, swiping down to the tray, the uniform, the black slacks that are not flattering at all. Why does it matter?

“I have some art on display. . . . Do you work here?” he asks.

I suddenly wish I were a lot cooler than this. Because he seems so cool. Too cool. Displaying his work in a gallery? The coolest.

“No. Not really. I waitress at the restaurant that’s catering the event,” I say. “Wait—some of these are yours?”

“Yeah.” He smiles down at me. It’s the same smile from the closet, that gentleness curling around the edges. “It’s a big difference from milk crates in my bedroom, huh?”

He references that moment from our past so casually it catches me off guard.

“Yeah. Just a little.”

He laughs, awkwardly tucking his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. I’m shifting on my feet, balancing the tray on one hand, looking around the bright space for something to say, something to do.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.