【Her · Miss Fries】
She got to the park gate forty minutes early. The dress was new, a pale apricot that fell just past her knees; before leaving she’d turned in front of the mirror three times, thought it too plain, then decided it was just right—just right to look thrown-on, when in truth every inch of it had been chosen for him. Three months, a hundred days and a bit; she’d counted them off on her fingers. He’d gone out of town to run a project, video-calling every day at first, then so busy that all that was left was a single late-night “Are you asleep?” and she’d fall asleep guarding that line. Tonight he was back. She stood at the gate smoothing the hem again and again, afraid the wind would flip it up, afraid too that one look at him would flush her face and let him see straight through how she’d survived these forty minutes.
Her phone buzzed in her bag. She fished it out—it was him: “Almost there. Don’t wait at the gate, it’s windy. Head inside, you know where.” She knew. Of course she knew. Those few words were like a hand reaching out of the screen to give her a gentle push, and her feet carried her toward the heart of the park on their own. If her students knew their Miss Fries’ heart was pounding like this right now, they’d probably laugh. Miss Fries—the nickname a boy came up with last term, saying she talked fast and crisp when she taught, like fries fresh out of the fryer, one after another, unstoppable. At first she found it childish; later she got used to it, even came to like it a little. He liked it too, always calling her that on video, dragging out the last syllable until it went soft against her ears.
【Him · Boyfriend】
He parked two streets from the park, on purpose. He wanted to walk this stretch, wanted the reunion to come a little slower. Over three months he’d run her image through his mind countless times—how her eyes crescented when she smiled, how she tipped her chin up without noticing when she was pleased with herself, how she curled a hand under her chin like a cat when she slept. But the version in his head was never quite the real thing, and he was afraid one look at her would leave him speechless, like the fool he’d been back when he first started chasing her. He quickened his pace, then forced himself to slow down. The wind set the camphor leaves along the road rustling; night had only just fallen, and the streetlamps came on one by one, laying the ground out in squares of warm yellow.
That pavilion of theirs, they’d stumbled on it two years ago during a walk. Northeast corner of the park, around a stretch of bamboo, then down a gravel path few people took, and at its end stood an old wooden pavilion, its back to a tall thicket of privet, hedges and climbing vines on three sides, leaving only one opening toward the lake. Almost no one came by day, and at night the streetlamps couldn’t reach that deep, only the halo of light from the far shore floating distantly. There they’d sheltered from rain, said their first “I like you,” and on one bold night crossed the line for the first time. After that, the pavilion became a place that belonged to the two of them alone. He walked in that direction, his steps faster and faster.
【Her · Miss Fries】
She got there first. The moment she rounded the bamboo the wind suddenly stilled, leaving only the sound of insects. The wooden pavilion was the same as ever, the railing worn shiny by hands, a few leaves fallen on the bench. She reached out to brush the leaves away, her fingertips touching the faintly cool wood, and all at once she remembered how, two years ago, he’d sat right in this spot and turned his head to look at her, looking until she didn’t dare raise her eyes. She sat down, straightened her dress, hugged her bag to her lap, then felt that hugging the bag looked like she was guarding against someone, so she set it aside. The park at night had a boldness the daytime didn’t, as if the dark shielded a person from every gaze, letting them do a little of what they wouldn’t dare by day. The thought made her face go hot, and she shook her head quickly.
Footsteps came up the gravel path. Not fast, one step at a time, very steady. Her heartbeat climbed higher with each step. Around the corner a shoulder appeared first from behind the shrubs, and then the whole of him—thinner than on video, a faint blue shadow of stubble on his chin, his eyes bright in the dark, finding her straight away. The two of them just looked at each other across those few steps, neither speaking first. She opened her mouth, meaning to say “What took you so long,” but nothing came out, and her eyes went hot first.
【Him · Boyfriend】
The second he saw her, every word he’d prepared the whole way vanished. She sat in their old spot, the apricot dress a small pool of soft light in the dark, her face tilted up at him, her eyes impossibly bright; her lashes flickered and her eyes reddened. He crossed to her in a few quick strides, said nothing, and first pulled her whole self into his arms. She was softer than in his memory, her hair carrying the scent he knew, mixed with a little of the floral perfume she always wore. Her hands gripped the clothes on his back, gripped them tight, her shoulders trembling faintly against him. He lowered his head and pressed his chin to the crown of her hair, his throat clogged, and only after a long while forced out a single line: “I’m back.”
【Her · Miss Fries】
“I’m back” landed on her ears and she couldn’t hold it together anymore; she buried her face in his chest, tears rubbing off onto his shirt. She wanted to scold him for never answering her messages properly this whole time, wanted to tell him how she’d eaten alone and clocked off alone these three months, but the moment she opened her mouth it all came out as sobs, and all she could do was pound his back over and over, her strength as small as a sulk. He laughed, his chest quaking with it, one hand patting her back, the other cupping the back of her head to press her tighter into his arms. Breathing in the scent of him, the three months of hollowness were filled in an instant. She tipped her face up, tears still hanging on it, and smiled at him: “Miss Fries has waited for you so long she’s gone cold.”
【Him · Boyfriend】
Her line coaxed a laugh out of him; he lifted a hand to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes, the pad of his thumb brushing her scalding cheek. “If you’ve gone cold I’ll warm you back up.” Once it was out he thought it a touch shameless himself, but she happened to like it—her lashes quivered, her gaze darted away and drifted back. He held her face and, in that pose, lowered his head to touch his lips very lightly to hers—just a touch, as if afraid of breaking something. But she was the one who chased upward, rising onto her toes to catch that kiss and deepen it. Three months of longing were all in this kiss; restrained at first, then neither willing to be the first to pull away. The wind rose again, setting the privet branches swaying, and the light from the far shore shattered across the water. This corner that belonged to them alone was about to hide away another secret tonight.