RYAN
“Can you even name ten, though?” Ryan asked, leaning back in the wobbly Adirondack chair in Gabby’s backyard and crossing his legs at the ankles. “Ten Halloween costumes that don’t have, like, a corresponding sexy version?”
“Sexy Mr. Potato Head,” Gabby said immediately, and Ryan laughed. “Sexy Dr. Kevorkian. Sexy Margaret Thatcher. Sexy Teletubbie. Sexy—”
“So clearly this is something you’ve already given a lot of thought to, then,” Ryan said, reaching for his soda. It was Friday, Monopoly night, fall of their sophomore year; Gabby’s dad had made a flatbread pizza with honey and goat cheese that should have been gross but was in fact actually delicious, like most things Gabby’s dad had made in the year that Ryan had been coming over. Now they were camped out on the back patio, Gabby stretching her oversized sweatshirt down over her knees while the wind rustled the papery brown leaves still clinging to the trees in the yard.
“Obviously.”
“What did you go as last year?” Ryan asked.
“I didn’t,” Gabby said. “I hate Halloween.”
Ryan snorted. “Of course you do.” He was opening his mouth to suggest Sexy Kool-Aid Man when Celia slid the kitchen door open.
“Hey, Ryan,” she said, “there’s a weird car lurking outside in the front that I’m assuming is your ride.”
“Oh, yeah, must be Anil,” Ryan said, digging his phone out of his pocket and seeing the here text he’d missed a few minutes before. He turned to Gabby, who was tugging her sweatshirt off her bent knees and standing up. “You sure you don’t want to come?” he asked. “It’s just a few people; it’s not a rager or anything.”
“Nah,” Gabby said, predictably. “I’m good.”
“Shocker,” Celia volunteered from the doorway; Gabby shot her a dirty look.
“You sure?” Ryan pressed. It grated on him too sometimes, how much Gabby dragged her feet when it came to going out and actually doing stuff. He knew it was hard for her. But wasn’t that how you made hard stuff easier? By doing it? Sometimes it was like she didn’t even want to try. “I think they’re just watching movies.”
Gabby shot him a look like, Leave it. “Tempting,” she said. “But I’ll pass.”
Ryan nodded and started to stand up, but Celia turned to glare at him accusingly. “Why do you let her get away with it?” she asked.
“Uh,” Ryan said, surprised. “What?”
“Don’t get him involved in this,” Gabby protested.
“I’m just saying,” Celia continued. “Has she ever even been to one of your hockey games? Or anything else you’ve tried to get her to come to?”
“I—” Ryan didn’t know how to answer that. “Of course,” he lied.
Celia looked back and forth between them for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she said, turning around and sliding the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say.”
“I’m going to murder her,” Gabby said once Celia was gone, flopping back down into the Adirondack chair; Ryan thought of Anil still waiting out front in his Subaru, but didn’t want to just walk out now. “I have never met anybody so smug in my entire life. And my parents are going to North Carolina tomorrow for the closing on my grandma’s house, so you know she’ll be on a power trip all weekend. She’s probably got a plan to make me do, like, social calisthenics.”
“I mean, she did make one good point,” Ryan joked, “which is that you actually never have been to one of my games.”
Gabby frowned at him. “Okay, fine,” she said, sitting up straighter. “When’s the next one?”
Ryan laughed at that, surprised. “It’s tomorrow,” he said, “but I’m kidding. You don’t have to.”
“No, I’ll come,” Gabby said. She had her stubborn face on, which is how Ryan knew she was serious. The only person who dug her heels in harder than Anxious Gabby was Trying-to-Prove-Something Gabby. “I like having new experiences.”
“Um, you definitely do not.”
“Now you’re picking on me.” Gabby sighed loudly. “Okay, you’re right, I hate having new experiences, but I’ll make an exception for this.”
He shook his head. “It’s all the way up in Albany,” he warned her.
Gabby shrugged. “Your mom’s probably going, isn’t she? I could get a ride with her.”
“Two and a half hours in the dogmobile?”
“Why not?”
Ryan didn’t have an answer for that. He felt shy all of a sudden, even though there was no reason to. Something about the idea of Gabby coming all that way felt like a lot of pressure. He wasn’t sure if they were that kind of friends. “My dad’s gonna be there,” he said, unsure if he was trying to deter her or not.
“Oh yeah?” Gabby looked interested. It occurred to Ryan that he didn’t talk about his dad that much, maybe so that he wouldn’t miss him as bad. His parents had been separated for a full year now. “What’s he like?”
“He’s great,” Ryan said, feeling himself grin a little. “He’s really fun, everybody loves him. He played in the minors when he was in his twenties, so he helps me with my game a lot.”
“Really?” Gabby tilted her head to the side. “I never knew that, that hockey was the family business or whatever.”
“Oh, no, it’s not like that,” Ryan said quickly. “I mean, yeah, I guess he’s the one who got me into it, but it’s not like I’m taking over his butcher shop when I really want to paint or something.”
Gabby laughed at that, but there was something skeptical about her expression, too, like she didn’t entirely believe him. Still: “Okay,” was all she said, with the confidence of somebody who generally liked parents better than people her own age. “Let’s meet your dad, then.”
“I think that means we’re going steady,” Ryan joked.
Gabby made a face. “Oh my god, you’re a gross person.”
“Don’t gag too audibly,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes at her. Not that he wanted to go steady, clearly, but her active disgust didn’t exactly stroke a guy’s ego. Sometimes it was like she thought he was too ridiculous to breathe air. “You realize you can’t bring a book tomorrow,” he reminded her, standing up. “It doesn’t count if you’re reading like, The Collected Works of Shakespeare while you’re sitting there.”
“Are you trying to discourage me?” Gabby asked, sliding the door open. “Because I’m in this now. I’m committed.”
Ryan grinned at that, he couldn’t help it. “Okay,” he said. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Okay,” Gabby said, and it sounded like she was challenging him to something. “See you tomorrow.”