Sparrow

by L.J. Shen

We ate cold Chinese food and drank buckets of alcohol in front of the TV while I forced him to watch 10 Things I Hate About You with me. Well, he wasn’t really watching. More like answering emails on his phone, twirling my hair around his finger and occasionally rolling his eyes whenever Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles shared a romantic moment, but it was more domestic bliss than I’d had in my whole life combined.

“You hate your name,” he said. I twisted out of his embrace, feeling my face heating. Peeling off layers was hard. Not only for Troy, but for me, too. “Aren’t you clever.” I took a long sip of my drink. He scooped me into a bear hug again, locking me in his arms. His lips grinned against my skin. Did he find me adorable?

“It’s okay to miss him. It’s that Stockholm syndrome. It’ll go away.”

My eyes drank him in as he strode to a nearby trash barrel, tossed his pancake inside and kept going. I spotted his Maserati—as always double-parked—and watched him disappear behind the wheel.

bruh