#cdmng

A few minutes later, their food arrived, and it didn’t take them long to find a table. Thomas wasn’t exactly a fan of fast food restaurants, but he knew if Alice stayed cooped up all weekend, she’d be unbearable on Monday. And he didn’t want to deal with that version of her, nor did he fancy watching their coworkers roll their eyes at every comment she made.

While chewing her burger, Ali felt Thomas’s eyes on her hair.

"I have a hair appointment on Tuesday," she said, wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

"I figured. You’ve never let your roots grow out this much.” Alice nodded while sipping her juice. “Why don’t you go back to your natural hair color?"

"Because right now, I identify with being blonde." Thomas raised an eyebrow, prompting her to explain. "You know, with all this darkness inside, I need to show a bit of light on the outside."

"Oh, here we go again with your soul stuff." Alice laughed, pleased with his logical retort. "You do know the only thing that can fix that inner darkness is a therapist, not a hairdresser, right?"

"I might’ve heard that once or twice."

Now it was Thomas’s turn to laugh. Popping three fries into his mouth, he chewed while glancing around the nearly empty place. That’s what you got for dining at eleven on a Sunday night in March, peaceful solitude and each other’s company.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alice frown at her phone. Either someone had dumped puppies at the shelter she volunteered at on Saturdays, or she’d just gotten a message from Devon during his break.

Three minutes passed and her expression hadn’t changed. Thomas crumpled the empty fry packet and began stacking the trash on the tray to get her attention.

"Remember I told you Ioan finally got divorced and started dating my friend Léa?" she asked" "You cried nonstop for three days and broke your record for not showering. 48 hours."

"Thanks, RAM drive.” The redhead smiled faintly at the nickname. “Thing is, Léa just messaged me.” She rested her chin on her hand and huffed. “They’re getting married. April 27th"

"Oh." Thomas scratched his cheek, unsure of the most appropriate response. "Well… good for them?"

"No. Honestly, I wish Ioan had been hit by a double-decker bus."

"Oh, The Smiths. So romantic." "Léa invited me to the wedding, Thomas," said Alice, turning to look at him. "And she made sure to bold the words ‘you can bring a plus-one."

"Then bring a plus-one." "Sure, let me just hop on Tinder real quick." Thomas rolled his eyes. Every Tinder adventure had ended in disaster. Disasters he could recount in painful, sometimes graphic, detail he wished he could forget.

"You’ve got over a month to find someone. And if you don’t, what’s the big deal with going solo?" Alice turned her phone screen toward him, pointing at Ioan’s name in the invite. "I’ve got a better idea, Ali: don’t go to the wedding."

"I have to go for Léa, not for that asshole."

Thomas wanted to tell her that maybe Léa wasn’t the best friend in the world if she’d started dating such a lousy ex. He’d love to have the same talk they’d had a dozen times before. And of course, he was willing to try to understand. But Alice, for all her empathy and flexibility, never applied that same logic to her friend.

"You could ask your brother, the invitation doesn’t say the plus-one has to be romantic."

"Thomas, what kind of image do I want to give if I show up with my 19-year-old brother?"

"I don’t know, maybe the image of someone who just doesn’t have a plus-one"

Thomas knew a lot about Ali. Her shoe size, how many diopters she had in each eye, or how many beers she could drink to beat Roy on any given Friday night. But right now, he couldn’t read her mind. Until one of her eyebrows gave a twitch — the kind that always gave her away — and the lightbulb in Thomas’s head flicked on.

"No, Ali. No."

"Thomas, yes" "I’m not going to pretend to be your date at a wedding."

"Oh, come on, it’ll be fun!" "No." Raising a hand, he gave her a small flick on the forehead. "Every single time, and I repeat, every single time you’ve said ‘it’ll be fun’, we’ve ended up in some kind of mess."

"But—"

"No buts this time."

"Remember that amazing leather jacket we saw at the mall the other day?"

"Don’t try to bribe me with capitalist tactics. It won’t work."

"What if I ask Devon to cover an extra hour for you for a month so you can come in later?"

"I don’t want you dumping your work on me either."

"I’ll go with you to the motorcycle expo in Brussels in July. I’ll do your laundry for a whole month. Please, please, please—" She pressed her palms together like she was praying and squeezed her eyes shut as she spoke a mile a minute.

"Fine."

"I’ll pay for your Netflix for a whole year."

"Alice—" Thomas took her hands and gently lowered them from his face. "I said fine. I’ll go with you."

Thomas knew a lot about Alice Dubois. Some things good, others… less so. But if he had to pick one of his favorite things about her, it was that thrilled smile she got when something went her way. Flashing her teeth, including the tiny chip on her left front tooth, Alice grinned so wide it nearly reached her eyes.

And Thomas knew this was going to be a mess, and that Alice would regret promising him a year of Netflix. But in that moment, just for that smile, maybe it would be worth it.