One for the Team

15| before

Apparently, Levi's parents are the owners of the new bakery downtown. When I ask if that's why they moved to Northwoods, Levi says sure like it's a lie. I want to ask about the real reason, but I don't think he wants to tell me about it, and so I don't. I just look around.

The lights are off and Levi doesn't turn them on, but I can see that everything inside is exposed brick and pipes, dark woods, glass, tables with matching chairs, and plants, a lot of plants. Some hang from the ceiling, others grow in pots here and there.

I follow Levi into the kitchen despite the sign on the door that says STAFF ONLY.

"So, Ruth," he starts when the door closes behind me.

"Who?"

"You know Ruth."

"Yeah, I do, but what about her?"

"You're a thing, right?"

Fuck, "Why would you think that?"

Levi turns around to look at me, all of him a tease. "Cause I'm not blind."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do."

"I don't."

"Come on, it's so obvious," he says. "Have you met Ruth? The other day she said we should put all men in cages."

I laugh, "She's always saying that."

"But not about you," he says with a smile. "She never says that about you."

I scratch the back of my head and watch him prop himself up on top of a counter. I don't know what to tell him.

"We're not a thing," is all I can come up with. "Not like that at least."

"Like what then?"

I lean against the counter in front of him. Everything is clean. There's a photo of the family on one of the large fridges. Levi's squeezed between his parents, laughing. I can almost hear it. His brother is not in it. Instead, there's a separate picture of him on his own, standing in front of the police academy. I'm not impressed.

"You look nice there –"

"You're changing the conversation."

I take a deep breathe, "I don't know what to tell you. We're friends. Sometimes we kiss, sure, but that's it."

Levi laughs, "I knew it!"

I just shrug, "It's nothing."

"Does she know that?"

"Yes," I say. "We're just friends."

"That sometimes kiss," he adds.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean much."

"Cause you're a bad kisser?"

"Yeah, that's why."

"Do you want me to teach you?" he asks with a smirk, leaning forward, his collarbones pushing against the skin under his shirt.

"Sure," I say.

He doesn't move. I don't either. We're looking at each other in the dark. Outside, in the street, the red lights turn green and so the entire room does too.

"Yeah, you say that now and then I wake up in a hospital bed."

"What?" I don't know what he's talking about.

"Nothing." He shrugs. "Anyway, I think she likes you."

"She doesn't," I say. "Not like that."

"But she looks at you like that."