by Sarah Adams
“Thought so. Damn, I’m an idiot.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. “Here I thought this last week we were…”
“Were what?” I lean against the wall and stare at the crack in the door, almost wishing I hadn’t asked that question.
“Flirting,” he says, so matter-of-factly. “Weren’t we? All those other little wars just felt like messing around, having fun…like they were leading to something else between us. Was I wrong?”
Again my silence speaks volumes, but I know it’s telling the wrong story.
He’s not wrong, and I’m quiet because tears are leaking down my cheeks, and I don’t want him to know it. I don’t want him to know I’m crazy about him and every day I spend with him I like him more. He has a horrible singing voice but still belts out a song every morning while he cooks breakfast, and he always makes double for me, pretending he accidentally added too many eggs. I still have terrible insomnia, so every night I go out and fall asleep on the couch watching reruns of Seinfeld or a BBC show. The past few times, I’ve woken up in the morning with my pillow from my bed under my head and an extra blanket draped over me. One time I woke up with socks on my feet. I’ve never thanked Drew for it, because I’m scared to admit how much it means to me.
And now, I absolutely will not tell him I have feelings for him, because I never want a man to have power over my heart again. It feels easier just to let him think I hate him, let him believe I like being on my own.
It sounds like Drew’s forehead gently lands on the other side of the door, and I imagine us face to face, separated by only two inches. “I’m not afraid to admit it to you, Jessie. I have been flirting with you. I like you. Yeah, you drove me insane at first and still do sometimes, but it’s good. I really…I thought you felt the same way.” He sounds tired all of a sudden.
I clear my throat lightly so he won’t hear the wobble from my tears and then force myself to kick him away Old Yeller style. “I’m sorry, Drew. You’re not my type. I’m just…not attracted to you in that way.” I’m tempted to duck and cover due to the lightning that will definitely strike me down any second. As extra penance, a magical transcription will appear on my gravestone that reads: Jessie Barnes was never as attracted to anyone else as she was to Drew Marshall.
I hear another humorless laugh followed by a small thump on the wall like he hit it lightly with his fist. I flinch. “Fine. Okay, Jessie. Glad to know I’m not your type. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
I put my hand flat against the door. “Drew, wait!”
His footsteps stop. “What?”
“The lake house weekend with the Greens…” I wince at the fact that I’m bringing this up at a time like this, but I have to.
His voice sounds dark and clipped when he says, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find a way out of it.”
I pinch my eyes shut, knowing I have no right to ask this but wanting to anyway. I’m too scared to have Drew in the way I want him, but I’m also not ready to give him up completely either. “Actually, it’s near my grandaddy’s house. I was thinking maybe we could…make another deal. I’ll go with you to the lake house for a night if you drive up with me to visit my grandaddy after? It doesn’t have to be more than a night. I just want to check on him. He knows the truth now too, so you don’t have to pretend to be my fiancé.” Drew doesn’t answer, so I keep talking. “And I miss him but don’t feel comfortable driving that far alone at this stage in my pregnancy.” Some of that is true. Not the last part, but I know Drew won’t argue.
“Geez, Jessie. We’re friends—or at least I’m yours. Not everything has to be exactly even between us at all times. Just ask me to go with you and I will.”
No. Then I would feel beholden to him, and I don’t want that. I want to remain as emotionally untethered from Drew as possible. “Please, Drew. This is the only way I feel comfortable. Just say we have a deal.”
He’s quiet. So quiet I think he walked away. He SHOULD walk away. There’s no reason for him to continue to be kind to me, and maybe on another level I’m trying to force his hand, force him to show me he’s just as terrible as my dad and Jonathan and he will put his own needs over mine forever and always.
Of course Drew doesn’t work that way though.
“Fine. We have a deal. But I’m done after this one. No more deals.”
Drew walks away, and I sit on the edge of my bed for a full twenty minutes just staring at the wall. I put my hand on my belly and feel the baby kick. I think he or she is telling me I made a mistake, but I can’t be certain. The little traitor. But honestly, I don’t blame him or her. I would take Drew’s side too.
I finally get myself up, change into my PJs, and leave my room, on tiptoe all the way down the stairs. I like to eat when I’m upset, and right now, I plan to scoop up the entire contents of the pantry and carry it upstairs like I’m a chipmunk preparing for winter.
At the bottom of the steps, I pause. Drew is in his room with the door shut, but I can still hear his voice. Maybe it’s just in my head because I know the conversation we just had, but he sounds like a sad man trying to convince someone he’s happy.
“Hey, Mia. This is Drew Marshall. You wrote your number on my coffee the other day at the coffee shop.” Wrote her name on his cup?! Who does that! What a hussy. “Yeah, sorry it took me so long to give you a call. I had kind of a crazy week.”
I’m not spying. I’m not. My ear is only pressed to his door because I thought I heard an evil spirit in the wall and I might need to call someone about purging it.
Drew chuckles at something Hussy said. “Cool. Yeah, so I was wondering if you’re free sometime this week for dinner? I’d love to take you out.” Oh, would you, Drew? Would you just LOVE to?
I bet this is all a ruse. A sham. He knows I’m eavesdropping and is making this all up just to make me regret turning him down. Well TOUGH, buddy. I’ve never felt better. Lying to Drew about not flirting with him was the best decision I ever made. I’m happy to not have to worry about fighting him off anymore. He can go out with Hussy and have a fabulous time for all I care!
Good riddance!
Drew’s voice is a mumble after that, too quiet and far away to hear what he’s saying, and I wonder if I can go get a glass to help me listen through the door before he hangs up. Nope, too late.
The door opens and Drew stands there without a smile, expressionless. “Eavesdropping?”
“Yes. Planning a date twenty minutes after getting rejected by me?”
“Yes.” Not even a hint of shame from this one. “Is there a set amount of time I’m supposed to wait after being rejected?”
“Not at all.”
“Great.” He steps slightly closer. “Because I’m going out with a woman later this week.” I try not to flinch at his words. He must notice something, though, because his demeanor softens a little. “Jessie…I’ll ask you one more time if there’s something between us. If you say yes, I will gladly cancel with her. But if you say no—”
“No,” I say quickly, ripping the Band-Aid off. It’s going to leave an ugly red mark on my skin, but it’s what I had to do.
Drew gives a final nod. That’s that. We’re done here. Show’s over, folks.
“Oh, hey girl!” I tell Lucy when she hops in the passenger seat of my car. “You look adorable in your sparkly little cocktail dress!”
Her bright blue eyes beam over at me. “Thanks! Oh my gosh, I’m so excited you want to go out tonight. I have needed a girls night for so long.”
“Yeah, you have! And you deserve it.” I sound like a valley girl in an old 90s movie, but I’m not sorry.
She clicks her seatbelt in the latch and swivels to look at me as I put the car in drive. “So where are we going? Dinner? Dancing?” She shimmies her shoulders, and knowing what I do about Lucy, I bet she regrets it instantly.
“Oh my gosh, better!” I say, wagging my eyebrows.
“Where?!”
“Get this: we are going to enjoy a nice relaxing evening of f
inishing off a fabulous bag of Twizzlers while sitting outside Bask.”
Her head tilts in suspicion. She’s onto me. “Isn’t that the place Drew is taking his date tonight?”
I morph my face into innocent shock. “What? Is it? I had no clue.” But really, I had no clue Drew would tell Lucy about his plans. It’s inconvenient they are so close.
I glance at Lucy in time to see her shoulders drop and arms cross. “We’re going to spy on my brother, aren’t we?”
“Noooo,” I say, like that thought never crossed my mind and I love sitting outside restaurants while I eat stale candy just for fun.
“We are.” She flops back against the seat and pouts. It’s all drama with this one. “I can’t believe you let me get all dolled up and made me believe we were doing something fun tonight, when really I have to stare at my ugly brother through a restaurant window!”
I scoff. “Okay, well, you’re totally wrong. He’s not ugly.” I glance sideways and find her burning a hole through my face.
“Last I heard, you weren’t attracted to him in that way.”
“What a little loose-lipped pouty-pouterson! Can he not keep anything to himself?” I say, deeply put out by him divulging our conversation to Lucy. How much of it did he tell her? Did he mention that all the pranks were really just him flirting? Or that he likes me? I still can’t wrap my mind around it. Drew. DREW MARSHALL LIKES ME. At least, he did before I kicked him in the metaphorical groin and ran away. What can I say, though? He’s not in the plan. Drew was never supposed to happen. He was supposed to hate me, and I’d hate him in return. No grand feelings, no recklessness. And definitely NO new relationships with a baby coming shortly.
“Okay, that’s it—turn around and take me home. I didn’t sign up for this.” I hit the child locks and gun it. She gasps in outrage. “Are you seriously holding me hostage right now?!”
“I’m really doing this for you.”
“How do you figure?”
Alright, she’s got me there. This has absolutely no positive outcomes for her. “Fiiinnne. I just don’t want to go alone, okay? Please go with me.” Lucy can’t say no to me (or really anyone). It’s her biggest failing in life, and I’m milking it now.
“Ooo, here’s an idea: you don’t have to go alone because YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO AT ALL.”
“OW!” I wiggle my knuckle against my ear. “I think you burst my eardrum.”
She rolls her eyes, not looking regretful at all that I’ll have to wear a hearing aid from now on. “Why do you care anyway? It’s not as if you like Drew.” She pauses and whips her head to me, auburn locks flying dramatically around her. “Or do you?!”
I grimace and pretend to gag like Ew, Drew? Hate him, grossest human I’ve ever met. “Absolutely not. I just think he’s lying and not really on a date tonight. I want to catch him.” Because who could find a date that fast anyway? And do women really write their names on the sides of to-go coffee cups outside of the movies? I think not, your honor.
I have had plenty of time to think about it the last two days since I first overheard Drew setting up this little “date”, and I’m almost positive it’s a sham. He got his pride hurt so he wanted to rub his ability to pick up women in my face. A little salt in the old wound trick. Well, HA!—I’m onto you, Drew. And I’m about to catch you in the saddest solo dinner date ever. Maybe he won’t even be here. Maybe he’s sitting on a bench by the lake, throwing bread to ducks while melancholy music plays in his earbuds. One can only hope.
Lucy gripes and complains at me all the way to the restaurant, but I mostly tune her out because I’m on a mission and won’t be deterred. Once we pull up at the restaurant, a valet comes to my door and opens it, revealing the plush taco print robe I didn’t bother changing out of. “Oh, no! Sorry! We’re not valet parking. We’re just waiting here for a friend.”
He’s judgy as he takes in my outfit. “This is a valet-only zone, ma’am. You can’t park here.”
“So sorry. I’ll move!” I shut the door and drive the car forward about four and a half feet.
Pesky valet knocks on my window, shaking his head. “Not here either. You’re going to have to pull around to the parking lot.”
The parking lot?! But that’s at the back of the building. I’ll never be able to see in the windows that way. How am I supposed to stalk someone without being able to see through a window?
Lucy’s bottom lip juts out. “Oh poo, I guess your plan is foiled and we have to go home.” She mock snaps like it’s bumming her out.
I point a stern finger at Lucy. “That’s enough sass from you.”
Doing as I’m told, I pull around the parking lot and get out of the car. Lucy follows suit, her heels clicking on the pavement, a panicked expression on her face. “Wait, wait, wait—where are you going? UH, Jessie, where are you going dressed like a human taco?!”
“We are going to get a better look in that restaurant.” I can feel the giant wobbly topknot bouncing enthusiastically on the top of my head with each step.
“Oh no we are not,” Lucy says, scurrying up behind me in her flashy dress. Good for her. She never wears flashy dresses. I’m surprised Cooper shared her with me tonight. “Are you serious? I just noticed your matching burrito slippers! No one can see you like this! Take it from someone who has been caught in all manner of embarrassing situations…you don’t want this,” she says, gesturing wildly up and down my body.
“That’s the difference between us—you get caught. I do not.”
Her eyes bug out. “Rhyming, Jessie? RHYMING! This isn’t the time!”
“It’s always time for a good rhyme.”
“Jessie, stop.” Lucy tugs on my hand, pulling me to a halt. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you, I want to catch him in the lie.” Someone is not paying close attention when someone else is talking. Not to point fingers, but…it’s Lucy.
She’s exasperated. “The real reason, please.”
I sigh and shift on my burritos. I can’t tell her the truth—she’ll tell Drew. Not because she means to divulge my feelings to him, but because she’s Lucy and can’t lie or keep a secret to save her life. Letting my eyes speak louder than my words is the only hint I’m willing to give her. So I hold her gaze and shrug my shoulders in a look of resigned defeat, the pathetic look of a person not wanting to admit the truth but who is also hopeless to hold it inside much longer. I’m a prisoner to my own fear, and that’s how it has to be right now.
“I just need to, okay? It’s important to me.”
Lucy’s brows crunch together, and her lips pull to the side. She assesses my face, thinking it over for a few seconds. Finally, she groans…loudly and with an open mouth. “Okay. Let’s do this. But please, for the love, don’t let him see us. I’m too old to be spying on my brother.”
I scoff, offended that she would even feel the need to say that. I’m wearing a taco robe and plush burritos on my feet—believe me, if there were an option where I didn’t have to be here tonight spying on Drew, I’d take it. I tried to sit home like an uninvested bystander, and it didn’t work. TV couldn’t distract me. I matched each of my socks in a flash. I ordered a luggage set off of the Home Shopping Network that I’ll never use. In the end, I had to come and see Drew on this date for myself, because apparently, I love torture.
Lucy and I sneak around the building, opting to hover on the opposite side from the judgy valet and peek through the glass. The restaurant has nearly floor-to-ceiling windows except for a three-foot-tall brick edging, so we are able to have a mostly unobstructed view of the warmly lit, expansive dining area. There’s a shiny black concrete floor and so many Edison bulb light fixtures I’ll have a filament spot burned into my eyes for the rest of the week. The tables are made of a dark oak wood, and the chairs are black tufted leather. It’s trendy, and moody, and exactly the sort of place I’d love to go on a date. Instead, I’m standing outside with my nose pressed to the glass dressed like a taco shop mascot escaped from du
ty.
Lucy bounces beside me. “Do you see him? Can we go yet?”
No…I don’t. I DON’T! My eyes scan around the restaurant with jubilant glee as I take note of every single patron and not a single sign of Drew in sight. “I knew it!” I fist-pump the air. My heart is exploding. This was all a ploy to make me jealous! He said he wouldn’t sit around and pine after me, but he can’t help it. He’s definitely on a bench somewhere, Sufjan Stevens playing in his ears. And now I get to gloat, dropping cryptic little comments over our bowls of cereal in the morning, making a big show of wanting to know every detail of his date. Am I mean and horrible? Yup, but fighting with Drew is the only outlet I have for the desire that builds inside me every time he’s around. It’s the only way I can let it out.
It’s going to be—wait. No.
Lucy gasps. “There he is! Walking toward that table across the room! He must have been in the bathroom…”
My heart sinks all the way down to the lettuce in my burritos as I watch him smile at the woman now sitting in front of him. She’s beautiful. Down to earth, curvy, I-rolled-right-out-of-bed-this-pretty-and-radiant sort of woman. She looks sweet. Sort of like the way Lucy looks with those wide, innocent doe eyes. I would never have pegged this woman to have scribbled her number on Drew’s coffee cup. I bet it was the only daring thing she’s ever done. Good for her. GOOD. FOR. HER.
Lucy puts her hand on my arm. “Looks like he really is on a date.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious! I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud. Lucy doesn’t deserve my wrath. It’s my own fault for not telling Drew the truth. I made my bed, and it’s time to lie in it. Alone. And cold. And manless.
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Fine? Your jaw is clenching so hard I’m worried for your teeth.”
I relax my face and give her a pacifying smile. “Better?”
“No. Now you look like a serial killer.”
“You’re full of compliments tonight. Let’s go, I need some Twizzlers now.”