“Of course,” he teases. “We still haven’t.”
“I don’t want him to,” I say, honestly. “I just want to never have to think about him again. But I liked how invested you were.”
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he says. “There’s still time.”
Then he flips his hand over in mine, brings it to his lips, kisses it. We stay there, like that, in the dirt, in the silence, for a long time. Let the vines grow around us. Let the building crumble. Let the world spin, passing us by.
* * *
“Stratifite,”Levi says slowly. “Is that the ‘safe fracking’ startup?”
It’s Saturday night, and we’re at Loveless Brewing because Silas wants me to meet his friends. I tap my fingers on the table in front of me and kind of wish that Silas had waited, like, five more minutes before heading off to get us beers. He seemed to think that Levi and I would get along well enough without him, but this already feels off to a bad start.
“No,” I say, pushing my glasses up and flicking at my bangs, like either of those things can shield me. “Well, not really. We’ve done a couple of GIS projects related to fracking, though. For other companies, we don’t actually have, like, drills ourselves. We’re mostly programmers.”
Levi doesn’t say anything for a long moment. I think he’s glowering. Fuck. Is he glowering? We’re at one of the outdoor tables at Loveless Brewing on Saturday night, and even though there are lights strung all over the place, Levi’s face is a little hard to read.
Not that I’m spectacular at reading people to begin with. Where the hell is Silas? He couldn’t give me five more minutes of gentle conversational guidance?
“We also work with companies in geothermal energy, which is starting to catch on down here,” I say. “And has a way lower carbon footprint and all that. It’s not evil or anything, it’s just data.”
Levi nods. I am not impressing Silas’s best friend, and I’m starting to wonder why on earth he was so sure we’d get along. Because we’re both weird and quiet?
“I only manage the people who do the coding,” I go on, because why not keep talking? “And sometimes do the coding. Uh. What do you do? Not fracking, I guess.”
Great segue.
“I work for the National Forest,” he says, nodding at the nearby trees. “I’m an arborist.”
He clears his throat and looks at his hands for a moment.
“So,” he says. He does not follow it up with another statement, even though I wait.
Okay. I’ve read, like, a million self-help books called How to Not Be A Fucking Weirdo In Public, I can do this, no matter how anxious I am right now.
“What’s your favorite tree?” I ask.
Levi looks very thoughtful, and I’m about to apologize for the question when he answers.
“My favorite tree species, or my favorite specific tree?”
“You have a specific favorite tree?”
“The huge magnolia outside City Hall. When we were kids we used to climb it and then throw—”
“Are you seriously talking about trees?” asks Silas’s voice behind me. A second later, he puts three beers down on the table, then slides two toward Levi and I.
“You didn’t give us any guidance,” I say. “That’s your whole job.”
“You’re adults!”
“You could have given us something,” I go on, because Silas is grinning like he’s absolutely delighted and I can’t help myself. “You know, you’re gonna meet my best friend Levi, he has a favorite tree, he’s married to my sister, he has a…”
“Weird mole?” Silas supplies, at the same time that Levi says, “Dog.”
Levi gives Silas a very patient look.
“I was thinking more along the lines of dog,” I tell Silas, and I’m still sort of nervous but also enjoying this. “Why would you say weird mole?”