A Toast to the Good Times - By Liz Reinhardt Page 0,20

to crawl up Mila’s ass.

Now I’m the douche. Fucking perfect.

I accept Toni’s friend request and stare at my phone. Mila is still up wishing Mal Reynolds wasn’t just some fictional man in a weird space Western TV show.

I could call her. My thumb slides over the screen, ready to push ‘send’ and try to make an impossibly bad situation partially right.

I scroll back instead.

To my most recent added contact.

And I do hit send this time.

Ten minutes later Toni pulls over to the curb in a red Audi, and I’m back in the heaven of a warm car interior, rubbing my hands in front of the vents and trying to think of what the hell to say to her in the glow of the car’s dash.

“I’m sorry I called so late.”

Stupid.

Stupid because I’m not remotely sorry and because she was up and I knew it, so why pretend?

“I knew you would.” Her words are so sure, it makes me narrow my eyes in her direction.

“Oh, yeah?” When I smile she rolls those baby browns, but not before she quirks a quick smile back in my direction. “And how exactly did you know that?”

“Because grown-up Landry isn’t all that different from high school Landry,” she says, her words short and a tiny bit bitter.

We coast down back-roads and roll through stop signs on deserted streets in the silent night of our tiny hometown.

“Look, about all that, back then? I swear, I’m sorry.” Now that I already said I was sorry and didn’t mean it at all, my actual apology sounds pretty pathetic and rings totally false.

“You’re apologizing for being seventeen? Really not necessary.”

Toni pulls into the parking lot of The Queen, the lights over the booths so dim, it almost looks closed. It isn’t, but it has a kind of abandoned quality that makes me depressed before we even go in. This was probably a really crappy idea.

I rub my hand down the thighs of my jeans and look over at her profile. She’s staring into the front lobby of the diner, her expression unreadable.

“I’m apologizing for being a complete asshole. There were lots of really decent seventeen-year-old guys who would have jumped all over a chance to date you, Toni. Why me?”

I press the button on the vent and adjust the flow of warmth, letting it get cooler on my side as Toni chews on her lip. It’s an old habit, reserved for her most worried, uncertain moments.

Like just before a pop quiz she didn’t study for because I convinced her to make out with me during our ‘study date’ instead of actually reading the material.

Or on prom night, when we almost missed getting our picture taken because I was trying to convince her to get it on with me in the backseat of my father’s old Bronco.

Her hair looked pretty crazy in the picture. And I look pretty pissed.

I didn’t manage to convince her to do anything more than some intense making out.

It was an old tug-of-war routine, and the bite of her lip reminds me of all the times I tried to talk her into going along with my stupid plans.

“Why me?” I ask again.

“I’m hungry,” she announces, switching off the ignition and opening the door to the incredibly cold night air.

She doesn’t pause to look and see if I’m following her, just walks, hands deep in her pockets, head down in the wind.

I follow and manage to hold up two frosty fingers to the hostess before Toni can tell her how many are in our party. Because I’m a guy, and I feel the need to do guyish things like announcing our party number to the hostess and letting her sit first and handing her her menu. But it’s all just a stupid show because Toni is obviously the one who’s more in charge in this situation.

We order a large plate of disco fries, and I am so starved for the melted mozzarella and salty brown gravy, I feel like the last time I ate must have been days ago.

Only I can remember the last time very clearly, and twenty-four hours hadn’t even passed since then.

Since I’d fucked things up with a really amazing friend and left her hanging.

Since I’d had dinner. And then kissed Mila.

And it was both incredible and something I needed to forget. So I launch into conversation.

“I think I was asking you why you stuck around with me if I was always being such a total dick.” I watch Toni shred her straw wrapper