Free Fanfare by Renee Ahdieh Page B

tie my mother’s scarf around my head. Then I’d hide behind doors and scare the piss out of my sister. I even went as far as to create completely useless ninja stars out of kitchen foil,” he chuckled at my responding laughter.
    We began talking about other careers we had contemplated as our food was brought to the table, and the grill turned on in between us. The smell of garlic, soy sauce, and green onion filled my nose and brought memories of my friends to mind. I tried to teach him how to use chopsticks properly, and soon I had forgotten yet again that we were anything but a guy and a girl out to dinner.
    I was regaling him with a story about my friends when I noticed he stared at me with a contemplative look on his face.
    “What?” I asked point blank.
    “I’m sorry. It’s just that . . . I really like you. You’re very easy to like.”
    Don’t worry. You’ll find someone else. You’re very easy to like.
    Ryan’s words echoed through my mind and caused my entire body to freeze in place as though I had been doused with an unexpected stream of cryogenic fluid.
    Tom’s face took on a look of extreme confusion as he watched the rapid change in my demeanor.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
    “Nothing,” I said under my breath.
    He exhaled in frustration and leaned his upper body over the table. With his left hand, he gingerly wrapped his fingers around my right wrist and lifted it from its resting place by my plate. The knuckles in my clenched fist were highlighted in white. He stared for a measured moment at the tension in my hand and then looked back at my face with concern.
    “Look, this is much more than ‘nothing.’ All I said was that I liked you. It shouldn’t have prompted that kind of response.” His voice was kind and completely devoid of accusation.
    I just looked at him. Did I owe him an explanation? I didn’t think so . . . but the look on his face was so worried that I knew I had to say something.
    He smiled gently. “Now, if I had told you a tarantula was poised on your shoulder sharpening its fangs, your response would have made total sense.” I really appreciated his cheesy attempt to lighten the mood.
    I curved the right corner of my lips with effort. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m sorry I overreacted. I was . . . hurt . . . recently by someone I cared a lot about. He told me I would get over it and find someone else soon because I’m easy to like. It’s just difficult for me to hear it again.”
    I looked down and away as my gaze focused on his hand wrapped around my wrist. It was the first time he had ever touched me, and a feeling of warmth traveled up the length of my arm and into my stomach. Sensing my line of sight, he released his grasp on my hand and immediately pulled away.
    “I’m sorry. I must say that he sounds like a bit of a wanker.”
    “He probably was . . . I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of freak now.” I realized as I was saying the words that Tom’s perception of me had begun to matter . . . a lot.
    “No. Not at all. Things are beginning to make more sense, though. I’ll keep being patient. Eventually I hope you trust me enough to tell me what happened.”
    “Thank you.” I was genuinely touched by the fact he didn’t try to pry more information out of me.
    “Always.” He grinned lightly.
    “Just so you know . . . I like you, too.” I couldn’t hold back the words. They were frighteningly true.
    That night in my hotel room at the Ritz, the nightmare returned with an alteration . . . proving money doesn’t always buy you the right to have beautiful dreams.
    The cold finality of Ryan’s words pounded into my heart with the force of a Mack truck, the same as always. He turned to exit through the front door, leaving me in frigid darkness to crumble in my requisite heap of agony and loss on the floor. As my pitiful form grasped at the carpet pilings and my cheek began itching from the pressure of being smashed into the