So I said, “I’m a curious person. I watch people and pay attention to relationships and such. I know how I feel and how friends have told me they’ve felt in certain situations. It’s not science. I’m not a real expert. It’s just advice.”
“Are you ever worried about saying the wrong thing?” He took a sip of his soda.
“Do you remember who you’re talking to here?” I teased, but he cocked a brow at me like he wasn’t having any of it. “Of course I am. Especially when it comes to people like Rural, but I guess, well, I figure if people are messaging me, they feel like they don’t have anyone else to go to, so at least it’s something.” I wondered why Elijah hadn’t spoken to any of his other friends about Danny. Was there anyone else who knew? Was it just him and me, two people who didn’t really get along but had secrets on each other?
“You don’t want to be a therapist or something? Do it legit?”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “Not my thing.” I didn’t think it was, at least. Truth be told, I didn’t know exactly what my thing was yet, other than writing. I knew I liked that. “If you’re not careful, E, I’m going to start thinking you like me, that you’re curious about me or something.”
He rolled his eyes, but there was a small curl to the right side of his mouth as though his smile wanted to come out to play.
“So, you and Danny?” I asked softly, not wanting to risk anyone we might know overhearing us.
“We grew up in the same town, went to the same high school. He was popular, sporty, played on the football team, because duh.”
“I can see that.”
“Did you?” Elijah asked, surprising me.
“I did my freshman and sophomore years, but by my junior year, I realized I didn’t like it. I enjoy balls but not the sports kind.” I winked, and he shook his head, but again, there was a partial smile there. “Go on.”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about him. Danny isn’t the boy-next-door type. He’s worked hard for everything he has. He grew up lower middle class, but he’s always had a strong work ethic and knows what he wants. Plus, he’s got that kind of personality people are drawn to. He’s fun, nice, and has a thing for the underdog—which is where I come in. Danny was friends with me when none of his friends understood why. If people gave me shit, he defended me, and he helped me get to the place where I defended myself and decided to be unapologetically me because that person’s not so bad. I don’t know if I would have gotten there without him.”
And there it was, the connection between them. Elijah had placed Danny on a pedestal, one that no one else would be able to reach. He felt worthy because Danny had deemed him so, which made him feel like Danny was who he belonged with, where his worth was.
Well, shit. I really was good at this. Maybe I should be a therapist.
I leaned back in the booth and watched him for a moment. He shifted, as if uncomfortable under my gaze. I wanted all his secrets, when I’d never much bothered with anyone else’s before. Not in a long time. And I understood how he felt—being tied to someone in friendship, getting your validation or lack thereof from them. I’d done it in similar ways in the past and would never do it again. “You would have,” I finally said.
“Would have what?”
“Learned to be proud of who you are and to be you.”
“I…” Elijah started, but then cocked his head, and now it was as if he was looking for my secrets. Like his stare was trying to penetrate my skin, to look inside me and fit together a puzzle I didn’t like to show.
“You’re too damn stubborn not to,” I added, which made him shake his head and cross his arms. It was the reaction I was going for.
“Here you go.” The waitress had returned. She set Elijah’s plate in front of him, then mine in front of me. “Can I get you guys anything else?”
“I’m okay,” I replied.
“I forgot to ask for a side of barbecue sauce,” Elijah added.
“I’ll be right back with it.” She walked away again.
I was pretty sure both of us were thankful she’d come when she had. The moment had felt heavy, and we didn’t really do heavy. We did annoyance.
But strangely, this dinner wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Elijah
The waitress came back with my barbecue sauce, and I wondered if Shaw was going to make a comment when instead of putting it on my burger, I dipped one of my sweet-potato fries in it. He didn’t say a word. He probably wasn’t paying much attention. I doubted what I ate or how I ate it was on his mind.