Free Beware of Love in Technicolor by Kirstie Collins Brote Page A

boyfriend, while my table companions discussed the various lives of people they had grown up with. I picked at a slice, but did not eat. I was losing my enthusiasm, and just wanted the night to end. I no longer felt a smug satisfaction for ruining his night, but only sorry that I had even dropped by his room at all.
                  “Would you excuse me?” I said to Brett finally. He stood and let me out of the booth. “I’m going to get going,” I said to him.
                  “What? Now?” he asked, wiping the grease from his chin with a paper napkin.
                  “I’m beat,” I Iied.
                  I saw John look up from his pizza, and met his gaze. I saw in the wall of mirrors that we both had the same defeated look on our faces.
                  “You leaving?” he asked.
                  “Yeah.”
                  “I’ll walk you home,” he said, before Brett had a chance to offer. I didn’t fight him. I wanted a chance to have him to myself, even if I wouldn’t have admitted it.
     
     
    ***
     
     
                  We walked in silence for at least five minutes. The street lamps cast long shadows on the pavement of the student parking lot. Even his shadow towered above everything else. Our boots created a strange, rhythmic patter-and-thud as we strolled toward Area 1.
                  “Brett’s going to be disappointed,” he started, poking me in the ribs through my jacket. “You sure you didn’t want him to walk you home tonight?”
                  “You know I didn’t,” I said.
                  “No, I don’t know that. I don’t know anything about you.”
                  He stopped walking and turned toward me. “I’ve spent so much energy just trying to figure you out, what you want. You give nothing of yourself, Greer, and it’s exhausting.”
                  I stared at the pavement, frozen, not knowing what to say.
                  “What is it you want?” I finally asked. My eyes were burning, and I was fighting back tears. I clenched my fists and bit my bottom lip to try and distract myself from the sudden surge of emotion.
                  “Anything,” he said with urgency. “Anything real that shows you can take a risk.”
                  “I didn’t flee tonight,” I told him. “Which is what I really wanted to do.”
                  “And you didn’t speak to me, either.”
                  “You’re drunk. I told you how I feel about that.”
                  “I was drunk. I am not anymore,” he said. “And remember, you dropped by unannounced. I don’t think that counts.”
                  “I’m sorry I ruined your night,” I said. I meant it, too. “Can I ask you something?”
                  “Always,” he replied. He took my hand and we resumed walking.
                  “What are we doing?”
                  “I’m walking you home.” He squeezed my hand.
                  “I mean it, John. I told you, I’m new to all this.”
                  “I like you, Greer, and I would like to get to know you better, if you will let me. But you gotta give a little more. I can’t be the only one putting myself out on the line.”
                  We were silent for a minute or two. I was no longer angry. If it was possible, I think I liked him even more than I had at the beginning of the night.
                  “You’re probably pretty tired, huh?” I asked him as we approached Holt.
                  “Not really,” he said. “You?”
                  “No,” I said. “One thing you should know about me is I hardly sleep.”
                  “Well, Sweetness, you wanna come over and