I smirk at her, leaning to the right so I can pull the tickets out of my left back pocket, and I slide them across the table.
“I learned my lesson last time,” I say.
She snatches them off the table, side-eyeing me as she does. “Good. Pete’s still hurt because we didn’t get to go to the last one.”
Which was for the better, considering how the evening descended into chaos.
“I was nervous,” I shrug, watching as she sticks them to the refrigerator with magnets. “But I have a good feeling about this one.”
It’s the only thing I’ve been looking forward to the past few months. Despite my struggles getting good shots, the feeling never faded, and it’s only gotten stronger.
As I eat, she tells me about everything that’s been going on in her and Pete’s life, and as she catches me up on the neighborhood gossip, I forget my troubles from my side of town for a little while.