I stumble backward into someone.
When I teeter around, Renner grabs me by the waist. “You’re good,” he says. His breath feathers my ear.
“Sorry. Hedgehog Lady pushed me,” I explain, cheeks heating with our proximity. Before I can gather the wherewithal to move away, a familiar tune fills the air. It’s “（I’ve Had） The Time of My Life” from Dirty Dancing. One of Mom’s favorite movies.
Hedgehog Lady makes a funny motion with her hands, pretending to waltz with the air.
“Looks like she wants us to dance,” I say, uneasy.
Renner tightens his grip on my waist. “It would be illegal not to. This is a banger.”
“You’ve seen Dirty Dancing?”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Just didn’t know you were familiar with ’80s romance movies.”
He lifts a shoulder. “It may be ancient but it’s a classic. You should do the run and jump,” he urges. “I’ll catch you.”
I wince at the thought. “No. I don’t trust you. And I haven’t had good luck with falling lately.” I imagine my face hitting the floor and waking up fifty years in the future, wrinkled like a prune.
He pouts. “Come on. I won’t drop you.”
I stay put, feet on the ground. “Nope.”
“Fine. I’ll just sing it,” he says.
“Please don’t sing it.”
“Oh, come on. I know all the lyrics.” He does not. In fact, he butchers them. It’s quintessential Renner, going for gold with zero forethought. But strangely, it doesn’t make me as angry as that day in his van.
He spins me awkwardly, my arm tangling with his. “So how did things with Kassie go?”
“I showed up at her superfancy yoga studio and knocked over a plant. Made a massive mess,” I admit, letting myself feel the music as I spin back into his chest.
I feel the vibration of his laugh against my cheek. “Was she mad?”
“No, actually. We went next door, had a smoothie, and I asked why we weren’t friends anymore.”
He nods like he understands, smoothing his palm down the small of my back. “And?”
I shrug when he spins me around again. Adult Renner isn’t too bad of a dancer. “I didn’t get a clear answer, but I don’t think it was anything dramatic. She seemed super happy for us.” I work down the lump in my throat, still not ready to talk about Dad.
“Really? I expected something more dramatic.”
“I know. I mean, whatever happened, it kind of feels like we just gave up on almost ten years of friendship.” My stomach twinges saying it.
We sway around for a couple moments before he speaks again. “Can I be honest about something?”
“When aren’t you honest?”
“I always thought you deserved better than Kassie,” he says.
This surprises me, mostly because I’ve never heard him talk badly about Kassie. In fact, I assumed the opposite. That he’d encourage her not to be friends with me. I blink at him. “Really? Why?”
“You were an amazing friend to her.” I watch the green strobe light dance across his face as he finds the words. “You were always there for her. Always stood up for her, helped her pass high school. Come on, you know it’s true,” he says when I shake my head. “You did all her homework for her. She cheated off you all the time.”
“Okay, in her defense, she was a good friend to me too,” I point out. Aside from the fact that she never let me take photos on my good side. Or her inability to text me back in a reasonable time period. Or her inability to keep even the tiniest secret. “She’s always honest with me. Gives great advice. And sure, she always put Ollie first. But can I really blame her? He was her boyfriend and—”
“You deserve better friends,” he cuts in. This hits me in the gut. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. “Even if you are insufferable,” he adds with a laugh, pulling me closer. I actually like it. I want to be closer to him.
“As insufferable as you?”
“Not quite. But at least we can be insufferable together.”
I giggle into his chest, allowing myself to sag against him as the song comes to an end. When I dare to lift my face up, our eyes lock. It isn’t the intense staring contest we often find ourselves in. There are no daggers in his eyes. It’s something else, a softness I can’t quite pinpoint.
My body buzzes, and the sensation intensifies when he pulls my hips flush against his. My gaze drops to his mouth, and I can almost imagine myself popping onto my toes and brushing my lips against his. I wonder if he’d taste sweet, like the fruity punch we’ve been drinking all night.