I hold up my phone between my hands. “I’m going to introduce you to K-pop and J-pop.”

  Brody blinks at me as we walk outside together. “I feel like you’re just throwing letters at me for no reason. Here, get inside, I have to clean off the car,” he says, beeping his car open, starting it so the heat can blast on loud enough that I feel like I’m in a rocket ship.

  Brody brings the smell of outside inside the car with him when he finally settles in the driver’s seat, adjusting his seating to accommodate his injured leg.

  “Warm enough?” he asks, adjusting the fans so the hot air blows right in my face, effectively drying out my eyeballs, but I still appreciate the gesture. “All right, so we take a drive down Lakeshore?”

  I nod at him, putting on my seatbelt and look straight ahead through the windshield, as if that’s going to make us move any faster.

  Brody drives us down to Lakeshore Drive, the street that borders the southern-most perimeter of the island, even though it goes through a few name changes along the way.

  This time of the evening though, we won’t be able to see the river, but the street’s notorious for having some of the most beautiful waterfront properties that always go maniacal with their Christmas lighting.

  It's pleasant for the first five minutes, and we make casual conversation about Brody’s rented car, of all things, but it feels like safer ground for now.

  I sigh, looking out the window.

  “We can stop pretending, if you want,” Brody says, leaving the final decision up to me. I don’t think he used to do that as often as he does now, looking to me for an answer, waiting for permission.

  “It’s not like I have any other plans…” I say to the window.

  “Wow.”

  I wince at myself, knowing how shit that sounded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. So, yeah, sorry.”

  “Holy shit, Amber Prewitt just apologized to me. Quick write down the date and time so it can be memorialized.”

  “You know I can kick your ass and shove you out of your own car and leave you stranded here?” I make empty threats, since Brody’s even bigger than he was before, more man and less boy. There’s no way I can take him in an even fight, and basically broadcasting my intentions isn’t going to give me the upper hand, either.

  Brody glances over, all I’d like to see you try, and I turn my gaze back out towards my window, tapping my nail against the glass.

  “That one, that one over there. Look at it. That’s a crime against humanity, having that many smiling reindeers altogether like that. Wow, there’s not even a solid inch of space for the snow to fall on the ground.”

  Brody hums and starts driving off after his ten-second stop at the sign. “What about this one? The roof’s completely drenched with lights. Holy shit, look at it. I bet you could see it from outer space.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Or the one next to it, see? Look how sad and lonely the house looks compared to that beacon. I wonder if all these rich people get into neighborly fights with one another over stupid shit like Christmas lights.”

  Brody doesn’t say anything to that, concentrating on his driving down the winding road. He sighs, and it’s my turn to prompt him with a question.

  “What? What is it?”

  “I thought this would be easier, with you.”

  I frown at him, ignoring that jump in my belly that feels a lot like freefalling. “Not really sure what you mean. We’re talking, we’re in the same car together and I don’t necessarily want to kick you. It’s fine.”

  “I don’t want it to be fine. I want it to be good again, between us.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” I say, waving my hand around.

  “Amber, just talk to me, please.”

  “Squirrel,” I say pointing out the windshield.

  “What?”

  “There’s a squirrel, watch out for the squirrel!” I yell, and Brody swerves into the oncoming lane of traffic to avoid the stupid animal who’s just standing there in the middle of the street in a rodent’s game of chicken. “Shit, no, you didn’t kill it. Stupid thing.”

  Brody glances in his rear-view mirror and keeps us in our own lane. “Did it cross the road?”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re good. We’re both good. My heart’s beating kind of fast though, thought we were going to hit an oncoming car with all of your swerving.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. You good? Roll down the window, get some fresh air. I’m dying from all the heat.”

  “So why didn’t you say something? We’re so awkward together when there isn’t food separating us, Jesus Christ,” I grumble, putting my window down and then adjusting the fan settings so we don’t sound like we’re about to take off into the stratosphere.

  “I’m not the one making it awkward,” Brody says, with a hint of a laugh coming through some of the words. “That’s just how we are, you and I.”

  I snort, pressing my forehead against the window. “I don’t know, I don’t remember us being this awkward with each other.”

  His laugh has me turning back towards him, though, watching the orange streetlights illuminate him one second and then hide him in shadow the next.

  “What? What’s so funny?”

  “Are you kidding me? I had to tell you I’d been crushing on you, when I was clearly flirting with you for three months before saying anything.”

  I say nothing, memory going back, back, back, and realizing that he’s right. It just drives the point home that sometimes whatever I’m perceiving isn’t really what someone else is giving out.

  “Oh. Right. Right. That did happen,” I say lamely, mumbling to myself. How could I forget?

  “Everyone knew about it, back in high school, how much I liked you. The teachers were probably conspiring to get us together during class projects and assignments—don’t you remember?”

  I shake my head, making a sound to have it come across. I look at his profile instead, a meld of the boy I knew and the man sitting next to me now, and whatever else I’ve missed, what else I’ve missed out on, too.

  “The infamous A Clockwork Orange assignment, we had to do a presentation in Nadsat. Was that in Séc. 4 or 5?”

  “It’s amazing that you don’t remember that. I fell head over heels for you during that assignment. And it was in the last year of high school, yeah.”

  “So all the way back then, huh? Wow. Sixteen-year-old me twisted your heart into knots.” I say through a tight throat. “I didn’t know it started that early on. You never told me.”

  Brody shrugs, working those hulking shoulders, holding onto the steering wheel with a more punishing grasp now.

  “I don’t know, it took a while for you to trust me, to get you to notice that I wanted to spend time with you outside of school. You were—still are—the quintessential nerd, nose always buried in a book, attention elsewhere. It was hard to compete. But shit, when you did notice me? Wow.” Brody shakes his head, as if he’s lost the words to describe the feeling.

  He glances over to me, a soft smile on his face that makes my heart twist and then explode into butterflies.

  “And you left, without even giving me a goodbye.” I slam the door shut on all those nice memories.

  Brody pulls the car to a stop along the narrow road, putting it in park, and looking over at me, his eyes blazing, even in the dark. “What more do you want me to do, Amber? I’m here, I’m apologizing.”

  “You don’t get to tell me to get over it,” I hiss through clenched teeth, leaning over close to the console and getting in his face, the emotional whiplash making me a little dizzy.

  “Why are you always punishing me every single time we’re together?”

  “Because you deserve it!” I yell, thrusting a fist in the air but missing my mark. I’m not going to hit him because he’s male and I’m female, expecting him to not hit me back because of my gender. No, no, no. “I was a zombie for forever! And I still can’t get over it!” I yell, appalled that tears are starting to well in my eyes.

  Me? Crying in front of Brody?

  Well, I’ve already done it once tonight, so I guess this isn’t going to be any freaking different the second time around. “What does that say about me, huh? Why am I still hung up on you, like some stupid idiot in a romantic movie? What the hell is that? I never wanted to be that person, okay? Never!”

  “Why, Amber?” Brody’s voice is soft, his tone careful in the darkness of his car. I quickly realize how fast I’m breathing out of anger, fear, and being nervous.

  If this is what crossing over and out of my comfort zone feels like, I don’t want any of it. Take me back, take me back!

  I glance away from Brody, gasping at the feel of hot tears on my cheeks even if I’ve been trying to keep myself from blinking and crying in front of him.

  “It hurt so much when you left, and it was terrifying, knowing I’d wrapped so much of myself in being with you, being Brody’s girlfriend. I’m different now, I am,” I say, trying to convince the both of us.

  It still boggles my mind that ten years have passed, and nothing has really changed all that much. Sure, I don’t live with my parents anymore, I have my own house and all those other milestones, except the one where I find a man that I wouldn’t entirely mind settling down with for the rest of my life.

  In some form or another, I always had Brody Kane on the brain. And that’s my problem, not his.

  “Amber, I don’t want you to be upset.”

  “Yeah, well, I am upset, so deal with it. I can’t believe this. My stupid eyes aren’t cooperating with me.”

  “Okay, okay. Here, I’ve got a box of tissues in the back here, let me just… Here,” he says, thrusting the cheery yellow box towards me, half-crumpled from whatever he’s put on it in the past. “I’m sorry I brought up bad memories.”

  I sniff hard, mopping at my face, not caring if I look like a drowned racoon from all the damage hits my mascara’s taking right now.

  “They weren’t all bad. I’m just…I’m disappointed in myself, okay? You happy now?”

  “Sweetheart, why would I be happy about that?”

  I straighten my spine at the old term of endearment, trying to resist its charm, but shit, it’s so freaking nice to be talked to like that by him again. I’ll just add another mark to my mental lonely-as-hell column and call it a night.

  “Amber, you’re the smartest person I know. Granted, I don’t know a lot of people with as many credentials as you have, sure, but it still doesn’t stop the fact that I know you’re the smartest person around.”

  I blink at him, still swiping at my cheeks when new tears start tracking down my face.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, sniffing again to chase back even more tears.

  “And you’re one of the kindest people I know, and on some level, I do…I deserve this, I deserve this punishment.”

  “Come on, Brody, don’t make this into a kink.”

  Brody lets out a surprised boom of a laugh, throwing his head back with it. I’m struck all over again by the beauty of him, by how he’s only gotten better with time and experience.

  I’m the one who’s lacking.

  “Right, deflecting when you’re uncomfortable by saying something shocking. Don’t think I haven’t figured you out yet, Amber Prewitt.”

  “I’m still angry and sad…over so many things, you know,” I say, throat thick. “And I let myself wallow in it all, to make myself feel worse.” I sigh. “I haven’t done anything significant in my life…like I know, school accomplishments are one thing, but I haven’t really done anything to be really proud of.” I run a hand over my face and shrug.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying, I’ve been emotionally compromised and you’re here, so I’m talking to you, Brody.”

  “Well, I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I could listen to you. Really.”

  I swipe another tear away. “No more crying,” I say with finality, then make a liar out of my own damn self when more tears spring out of my traitorous eyeballs. “Shit…”

  Brody pulls out some more tissues and hands them to me. “I think you’re amazing, you know that?”

  I shrug, trying to ignore the tears, but that’s not really working, and Brody gently raises his hand with a tissue, carefully wiping at my face.

  “I think you’re talented and strong and determined, and you push yourself so hard that I feel like I haven’t been productive a day in my life in comparison to you. You’re focused and driven and ambitious, and I admire you, Amber Prewitt.”

  “Stop,” I groan, hiding my face behind my hands. “I can’t handle compliments, I just can’t!” I cry, trying to contain the sob that I’m focused on locking deep in my chest. I drop my hands to my lap and look at him. “Just…What do you want from me, Brody? What?”

  “I want another chance, if you’re willing to give me a second go. I want to earn the right to love you again.”

  I shake my head, confused as hell. “What? Why? The second time’s the charm?”

  “Because I’ve been hung up on you for the better part of a decade, and I want to give my heart a break.”

  I frown at him, swiping at my cheeks. “Isn’t that the name of a song?”

  “Amber,” Brody groans, leaning back in his seat, shaking the entire car with the movement.

  “I know, I know. I get it, I do. I’ve been pretty shitty to you, huh?”

  “Well, like I said, I deserved it.”

  “No, not really. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been hung up on you for forever, too. Just an FYI.”

  Brody smiles, runs a hand through his hair and lets out a pent-up breath. “Good, that’s good.”

  I glare at him, and he laughs.

  “I would like to try again, if you’re willing.”

  “What if we regret it? What if it doesn’t work out? You’re leaving in January.”

  “You don’t know that. Hell, I don’t know that.” He glances down at his leg. “I have so many reasons to stay here.”

  “Gouda. You’re gouda, melty, string-cheesy gouda, okay? The cheesiest guy alive, oh my god.” I laugh, sniffling, and wiping up my nose to stop the snot-fest.

  “I don’t want you to be upset. Want me to get you a chocolate milkshake?”

  I’m almost embarrassed by the pained sound that comes out of me, filled with longing. Ultimately, I shake my head.

  “Better not. We’ve got a whole bunch of holidays coming up and you’re invited. My dad’s more excited than I am, to be honest.”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  I shrug again, nodding slowly. “I’m going to be okay, yeah. Thanks for listening to my whining.”

  “You’re allowed to whine, or complain, or whatever. I’m here to listen, whenever you want to talk.”

  “Yeah?” I ask to make sure, one last time.

  Am I really going to do this with him, for realsies?

  Shit, that hug he gave me earlier during the night was pretty spectacular. And honestly, I know that I’m going to cave, even if it bites me in the ass in the end. Should we take the second chance though? Should we?

  “Anytime. I’m here.” Brody says. “Is that a yes to the chocolate milkshake…or are you really going to say no?” He grins, and my stomach explodes with butterflies even though my eyeballs still eke out a couple of tears.

  I want to go home and sleep for the next twenty-four hours, shore up my energy to figure out how to fix the shit I’ve stepped in with Max and Vick.

  “Screw it. Yeah, I want a chocolate milkshake.”

  Brody gives me the world’s biggest grin, and I feel like I’ve done something right today.

  TWELVE

  “I’m not supposed to be eating this much. Well, drinking, this much,” I sigh. I keep slurping up my glorious chocolate milkshake, though, fingers icy from the cup despite the heat blasting in Brody’s car. It’s almost midnight, and it’s not like I want to go home, or drive myself back home, so I’m taking whatever Brody has to give.

  Except, maybe that’s the problem, too.

  I relax further into the passenger seat, being mindful about loosening all my tensed muscles, as if ten years hasn’t been long enough of a time to get over the likes of Brody Kane.

  I slurp up some more chocolate milkshake, working hard to get it through the straw because it is thick, and promptly start feeling the throbbing pain of a brain freeze right between my eyeballs.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how good is a Philly cheese steak from Philadelphia?” I ask, trying to ignore the dull ache in my head, letting go of my straw and shoving my tongue up against the roof of my mouth.

  Brody grins at me, slurping up his own milkshake, shaking the paper cup in his hand, swirling the almost solidified milk around with a flick of his wrist.

  “Pretty good, but what I really missed was the smoked meat sandwiches from here. Americans don’t really know about smoked meat.” He grins at me when my mouth pops open as I look at him.

  “Awww, man, why did you say that? Now I want some! American Thanksgiving’s just around the corner, and I’m going to explode. I was trying to be good, honest.” I sigh, looking down at my milkshake, as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter to ingest a metric shit-tonne of calories.

  Brody moves his shoulders again, the windows in his car starting to fog up a little. We’re parked in my office building’s parking lot, parked right next to where my car is sitting. I could leave at any given moment, but I find myself not wanting to.

  This might be the most I’ve talked to someone I’ve found ridiculously attractive without being immediately turned off by something that person said, or by putting my own foot in it with my over-the-top standards.

  Brody Kane was the first boy I ever loved, and now that he’s a man, it’s making me so confused, sitting this next to him in the close proximity of the car. Plus, he bought me a chocolatey milkshake.

  I suck back some more of it.

  “Should we go get some, then?” he asks, as if he didn’t hear me complain about all the food I’m eating.

  Which, to be fair, Brody never made me feel badly in that way, like I had to watch what I ate in front of him, like I had to curb my appetite around him.