“Lucky guy.”
I smile.
“He’s in California,” I add, though I’m not sure why.
“Long-distance never works,” he says.
I look down at the pizza in my hands, a little sad that he’s probably right. It’s been hard the last few months with Ethan away. Long-distance is tough; it’s one thing to make it work with a few states between us, but being a country away? Deep down, I know my move will be the kiss of death for us.
My eyes sting at the thought of losing my first love. My high school sweetheart. I didn’t imagine we’d last forever, but wewerein love once.
Were?I think to myself.Am I already thinking about us in past tense?I shake my head and reel my tears back in. I should enjoy what time I have with Ethan. He’s due to visit over fall break so I’ll at least get to spend some time with him before I leave.
“Where’d you go?” Karl asks, looking at me intensely.
“You’re probably right about the long distance, but I love him. I want to try to make it work.”
Karl nods, and he scratches his jaw. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I shouldn’t have shared my opinion on your relationship. Only you two know what goes on there.”
I gulp in a big breath and smile, wanting to turn the conversation away from me. I say, “For what it’s worth, you could get an actual girlfriend to do this with. Sandy, even . . .” I trail off when he fakes an exaggerated shiver.
“No,” he says. “Bren hates Sandy. He hates everyone in the usual crowd—he’s a family man now. It needs to be with someone he perceives as a positive influence on me.”
I chew on my pizza and think. “My roommate Ileana is the best influence I can think of,” I say.
“Is she over eighteen?” he teases.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “She’s in her late twenties. And it would be great, actually. She could move in here, and I could finally have some peace and quiet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I babysit for her son in exchange for room and board. I love Isael to death, but he’s running me ragged. That’s how I saved up so much in such a short amount of time.”
“While I like the idea of dating a woman older than me,” he says, “you lost me at ‘her son.’”
I snicker. “Well, I’m sure you know more than enough candidates. And I’m sure Sandy would jump at the opportunity . . .” Even as I complete that though, a knot forms in my throat, and I don’t know why.
Karl shakes his head. “That won’t work. Bren hates Sandy,” he repeats, annoyed.
Stretching my arms over my head, I stand up from the couch. “Well, good luck finding the perfect girl. I have to get going.” I say that and then linger.
I don’t want to go. Talking to Karl is like talking to an old friend. Comfortable and sweet. And I’ve never had anyone in my life I could talk to about music like I did with him today. At least, not outside an online forum. And at the heart of it is this simple truth: I don’t want this to be the last time I see or speak to Karl Sommer. But I know once I step outside those doors, he’ll be unreachable forever.
Sensing my apprehension, Karl speaks up. “Would you come back and clean again? Keep this place as clean as you left it?”
I fidget with the hem of my shirt. “Sure. Next week okay?”
“Perfect. Maybe make it a weekly job until your move? I don’t think we’re leaving Kansas City for a while. Bren still hasn’t given us an end date for his paternity leave.”
I’m much more excited at the thought of seeing him again than I should be. “Same time? Saturday mornings?”
“Yeah. You have the code to get in.”
I nod.
Mischief dances in his eyes with a silly grin. “I’ll leave the peanut butter out for you.”
* * *