Covers

Chapter Eleven: Third Date

The next morning, I get an idea.

I call my dad. He takes a while to pick up, as he always does. He likes to leave his phone in other rooms of his house for some reason. Usually I have to call him two or three times before he succeeds in finding the thing.

"Hello?" he asks.

"Hey, dad. I had a question for you," I say, lounging back on the sofa.

"I have questions for you, too," he replies smartly. "How are you doing? Healing well? Have you noticed any more memory issues?"

"Nope, I'm totally good. I'm resting up, doing my homework. The headache's gone, too," I say. "But I've been thinking about something you said."

"Uh-oh."

"No, it's a good thing," I laugh. "Remember Evan? The musician?"

He pauses. "Yes, I remember."

"Well... I saw him a few more times after you left. Your... approval of him kind of made me realize that you're right. I could do worse. We've been talking and... I think we're dating now."

"Ooh, bring him down for Christmas Break. I'd love to get to know him better," my dad says immediately.

I raise my eyebrows in spite of myself. "... That's actually exactly what I was going to ask. You know Byrd Flooring?"

"Yeah?" he says, confused by what he can only interpret as a sudden change of subject.

"His dad owns it. He's from Glide. I figured it'd be nice for him to... take a walk down memory lane," I say. I avoid mentioning that only certain spots along Evan's memory lane are worth revisiting.

"That sounds great, Audrey. Yeah, bring him down. You know, if he can get out of classes, you guys can just come down this week. I'll have to work, but you know you're always welcome back home."

My heart warms at the idea of snuggling up to Evan on a couch in my childhood home. "I'll ask him. I'll tell you what he says. Thanks, dad. I love you."

"I love you, too. Does he have a car or will I need to come pick you both up?"

"No car. He's a TriMet rat like me," I say.

"Okay. That's fine. Just keep me posted."

"I will."

"I love you, Audrey."

"I love you, too, dad," I say, smiling as the call ends.

One day I'll be honest with my dad about Evan, but today is not that day.

I text the man himself. Good morning. Can I buy you breakfast?

Evan texts back immediately. I will pay for my own. When and where?

I smile, rolling my eyes as I reply. Sugar's Diner. I'll be there in ten minutes.

His reply comes quickly. See you there :)

I bundle up for the weather and start the walk down to the diner. It's a tiny, cozy place with the same "good old days" 1950s theme that a lot of diners have. I like the food, even though I'm deeply annoyed by the glorification of that era. The fifties were hell for everyone who wasn't a straight white man. But the owner is a Black woman named Patricia who dotes on me and just about every other nearly broke college student who frequents her shop. I applaud her for profiting off of the phantom nostalgia people have for poodle skirts and shared milkshakes while ignoring the activists being brutalized beside them.

Evan stands in front of the diner. His clothes are still dark as ever, but his grin lights up the block. He greets me with a kiss on the cheek and holds the door open for me.