by Amanda Tru
He waved to Tom and the guys as he made his way to the counter and ordered two plates of California Sushi rolls to go. It was ready for him to take out in a few minutes, and after he paid, he went out to hail a cab. His phone buzzed as he waved one down, then climbed in.
Kaylie: Can I please have Tom’s number? It couldn’t hurt to text him. Do you think he would remember me?
He wouldn’t normally ignore a text, but he’d had enough Kaylie for one night. Since he already had his phone out, he messaged Addi.
Drew: You home? And do you like sushi?
If she answered fast, he could redirect the cab to her place. Since he had two rolls, he could share.
Addi: Yes. And yes. Why?
He smiled and tapped on the glass, then gave the driver the address.
Drew: Just hold on. You’ll see in a few minutes.
The driver let him off in front of Addi’s apartment building. About a half dozen men stood by the door smoking and mumbling to one another. None of them moved out of Drew’s way, forcing him to weave between them to get inside. There was no one at the door to let people in. He pushed on the button marked Merrick.
Addi’s voice crackled over the aging system. “Yes?”
He pushed it again. “It’s Drew. Let me in? I have sushi.”
A loud buzzing sound signaled that the security door was unlocked and he pushed through. The buzzer at the front didn’t have her apartment number on it, so he just started up the stairs and hoped she would find him. Addi appeared at the top of the stairs on the second floor. She had her hair pulled all the way up in a messy bun, with soft pieces loose and framing her face. She was in fuzzy PJ pants and a loose, long-sleeved tee.
“I wasn’t expecting you to actually come by. I don’t know what I thought, but this wasn’t it.” She shoved her hair behind her ear and bit her lip. His heart melted at her sweet, unpolished self. Even completely casual, she was pretty.
“I had sushi to share and no one to share it with.” He held up the bag to prove it.
“Why are you always trying to feed me?” She laughed and pushed open a third-floor door that didn’t sit on its hinges well. Inside, her apartment was sparse but clean. She had an old sofa that at one time had a floral pattern, but was now covered in saris, giving the room a colorful and foreign look. She had a lamp and two other mismatched chairs. The whole room felt comfortable.
Addi stood staring and squashed both lips between her teeth, her cheeks flaming. “I’ll get us some plates.” She motioned for him to find a seat, then dashed off to the small galley kitchen.
He shrugged off his suit coat and laid it over one of the chairs, then opened the bag and pulled out the cardboard box with the rolls inside. When Addi returned with the plates, he felt the need to explain, because she was obviously confused as to why he was there. He wasn’t even completely sure.
“The date with Kaylie was pretty bad. Did you know she’s vegan?” He glanced over at her.
“I had no idea. Wait, she can’t be. She ate ice cream with me. Plus, why would a vegan own a coffee shop where there’s cream in almost every drink we serve? Then again, I’ve never seen her drink any of the coffee, not even straight without milk or anything else. She always eats her lunch elsewhere.”
“She lied about it?” He took a deep breath. That shouldn’t surprise him, she’d needed an excuse to leave and grabbed a plausible one. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but to find out at the restaurant that she wouldn’t eat anything there? It was important knowledge.” He hadn’t even thought about asking, which was exactly how she’d used it against him.
“I don’t know what to say, except, I’m not all that surprised. I don’t have chopsticks.” Her brow furrowed.
“I don’t think anyone will mind if we use forks.” He laughed at her concern over providing the proper utensils, which was more than his date had offered all night.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Addi mumbled as she stared down at her plate. “I know you wanted it to. You’d hoped you and Kaylie would be a thing.”
“Maybe. I was glad when the matchmaking company set us up, but the more I got to talk to her, the less I wanted the date at all.”
Addi’s warm brown eyes met his. “Really?”
It was difficult to look forward to going out with someone so cold after he’d met someone so warm. “Sure.” He picked up one of his rolls with his fork, ready to be done with all things Kaylie. If Addi didn’t work at The Bean, he might not even go in there again.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked about her. Your feelings for her might not have changed without my negative attitude. Liberty talked to me about that tonight, that I let her treat me the way she does, and then―instead of telling Kaylie how I feel―I turn around and tell others. It’s the wrong way to deal with it.”
“Hey.” He reached out and touched her arm. He hadn’t even thought about touching her until that moment, but it felt so right to comfort her. “Sometimes, bullies just need to be told no. Other times, they’ll just get worse. She uses you, and she tried to do that to me tonight. I don’t think the fault lies completely with you for not sticking up for yourself. She has a character flaw.”
Addi sighed and laid her fork down, sushi untouched. “Ever since I started working there, I’ve compared myself to her. My hair was never as pretty, my clothes never as nice, but I tried to be friendly to everyone to make up for it. You know what that got me? Exactly nowhere. No one comes into that shop and remembers Addi Merrick, but everyone remembers Kaylie.”
“I remember you.” He had a fierce urge to gather her close and kiss her, but he couldn’t do that. She wasn’t his girlfriend, though his reasons for keeping her away were getting thinner and thinner by the day.
“Only because Kaylie shoved me at you. You’d still be sitting in that booth, hoping for a date with her if she hadn’t.”
He wanted to argue that it wasn’t true, that he’d noticed her far before Kaylie had been rude and tried to get him to ask Addi out. Now, he almost wished he had. The pain over Lauren was so far in the past now, it was hard to remember just how badly it had hurt to be left on his wedding day. Almost. He’d convinced himself that nice quiet girls couldn’t be trusted, but could he be wrong?
“So, what will you do? Will you try again with the dating site?” Addi’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“I don’t know. I have to give them a review of my first date, then they’ll send me more information. So far, my confidence is low, but I think that’s pretty normal for most dating sites. If they matched you the first time, they’d never make any money.”
“Everyone is entitled to their pay. I doubt they have someone sitting there physically matching people. If they did, maybe things would go smoother.” Addi still hadn’t eaten any of the sushi, and he searched her face looking for some reason she might be ill or uncomfortable.
“Maybe. Are you okay? You’ve been sitting there picking at that food since we sat down.”
She laughed and picked up one piece. “Like I said, I wasn’t sure why you were asking me about sushi. I ate cookie dough at Liberty’s a few hours ago. There’s only so much rich food a girl can handle in one night. Especially when shrimp ramen is the closest thing this girl gets to a delicacy.”
Drew couldn’t help cringing. Dried shrimp in dried noodles, reconstituted, was not a delicacy. “In that case, I’ll leave these here so you can enjoy them when you’re hungry. I should get home and let you finish your homework.” He stood back up and grabbed his coat. “Thanks for letting me come hang out with you for a few.”
She stood and nodded at him, but didn’t smile. Addi’s fire seemed to have burned out sometime during that day, and it bothered him.
“I hope it cheers you up a bit.”
Addi cocked her head slightly. “Why? Do you think I need it?”
“You could definitely use a good cheering.” He shoved his worry to the back of his mind and gave her an awkward side hug. He’d never bee
n very good at those, and her eyes widened at his apparent lack of finesse.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He waved.
She smiled slightly, her eyes a few degrees warmer than they’d been a minute before. “See you.”
He’d given her a hug. Sort of. Addi stared at her sagging, textured ceiling above her bed and sighed as she let the warmth of the remembered almost-embrace fill her. She had to convince herself it meant nothing because he was just a friend. He’d made that clear from the start. He was a friend who needed some comfort after a bad date. Yet when the day was over, she’d ended up being the one who got comforted.
There was no way to know how she should act the next day when she saw him at The Bean. After seeing Drew privately two days in a row, her mind started to play tricks on her. She wanted to think of him as more, but that would be dangerous. If she pushed anything, he could just walk away. Hadn’t every other guy in her life? Usually with whoever she was close friends with at the time. He’d discounted the idea of dating her when Kaylie had suggested it. He didn’t want her in that way. If she didn’t get a handle on her feelings, she would end up hurt and friendless.
A loud argument broke out in the apartment next door. It was a common occurrence in her building. The longer she lived there, the easier it became to ignore it. The people in her building had just become noise on the other side of the wall, just like all the other noise. When she’d first moved in, the fights would keep her up, and she’d struggled with worrying over every person and situation. The weight of the world was heavy, and night after night, she’d had to deal with it. Until she couldn’t anymore. That’s when her heart had hardened to the plight of the people around her, because she couldn’t do anything to help them, except pray. There was no way to know if her prayers were answered because there would be new fights the very next night.
Addi’s phone buzzed, and she reached for it. It was too strange an hour for it to be anything but important.
Drew’s name appeared at the top of her phone.
Drew: You up?
She was, but why was he talking to her so late at night? Was something wrong? She squinted at the little clock in the upper corner of her phone. 1:15 a.m.
Addi: Yes, why?
It seemed like she was always asking him that. At some point, she would have to come up with some real questions for him, and then he’d have to answer with something other than food.
Drew: I was up. Can’t sleep. I made it home okay, in case you were worried.
She smiled, then chuckled. She hadn’t been worried. He was just so charismatic it never crossed her mind to worry whether he got home, she just assumed he would. With style.
Addi: I’m glad, and I’m sorry you can’t sleep.
He replied quickly.
Drew: I see you’re having the same problem.
She stared at his statement for a minute, but couldn’t think of anything witty to say. She always thought of those well after the moment had passed.
Addi: Must be a full moon. And just because I’m awake doesn’t mean we can get together for food.
She rolled her eyes but hit send anyway, hoping he would think it was funny.
Drew: What? You don’t want to go get coffee and cinnamon rolls in the middle of the night?
How was she having this conversation? She couldn’t even understand why he was talking to her at all, much less in the middle of the night.
Addi: Nope, I’m not changing out of my fuzzy pants. And how do you stay healthy if you’re eating pizza and rolls all the time?
Not that she minded. She’d had more yummy food in the last two days than she’d had in a year.
Drew: I’m pretty sure there’s no sign on the coffee shop that says ‘no fuzzy pants.’ Wouldn’t that make an interesting sign? No shirt, no shoes, no fuzzy pants = no service.
Addi snorted and typed her reply as quickly as her fingers could manage in the middle of the night.
Addi: Maybe you should make up an ad campaign: No fuzzy pants!
Not that she would stop wearing them. She didn’t buy yoga pants, but if she was at home, she wore PJs. She’d been that way for years.
Drew: I can’t do that. My clients would lose most of the college-age customers, and I might make some of those angry. Wouldn’t want that.
Addi stared at the screen with an open mouth. Was he flirting with her? She was too out of practice to even be sure.
Addi: I don’t think you have to worry. I’d better go to sleep. See you in the morning, assuming you don’t sleep in.
He only took a few seconds to reply.
Drew: Wouldn’t miss it.
Addi stared at the three words as her heart raced and the little voice in her head wouldn’t leave her alone. It shouted at her to pay attention to what was happening. No matter what he’d said, he was paying attention to her. Wasn’t that all that mattered? Who cared what anyone labeled it? Except a friend would never end up a bride.
Drew sat at The Bean sipping his mint coffee and staring at his screen. He’d just gotten an email from Betwixt2Hearts. They had literally replied in minutes after he’d sent his review of his first date. The woman who replied offered him a complimentary match, but not through the algorithms on the site that had set him up with Kaylie to begin with. She proposed a more personal touch.
What did he have to lose? They wouldn’t set him up with Kaylie, and he needed a distraction from Addi. He’d gotten far too used to turning to her whenever he thought about her―which was becoming more and more. He agreed to the suggestion and hit send. Another email came through, and he didn’t recognize the address. The email preview said: Do you remember me from High School?
He glanced at the email again, and it gave him no clues. Drew clicked into the email, and a short letter came up.
Do you remember me from High School? You took me to the junior prom. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching, and I’ve come to think of myself as a man. My therapist says that it’s healthy for me to come out to those I’ve been intimate with in the past. Since there aren’t that many, I wanted to reach out and let you know.
Ray (Rea) Zale
A woman he’d asked to prom didn’t consider herself a woman anymore. He thought back and could remember Rea’s soft, blonde hair, her quiet smiles, the way she clung to his arm and danced with him all night, not wanting to share him with anyone else. The only reason he hadn’t continued to see her was because her family had moved two weeks later.
Drew clicked out of the email and stared at Addi. While he didn’t believe there was any chance she would ever change that drastically on him, it just proved that those quiet women, those who he would never expect to change, always did. He shut his computer and Addi came over to the table, her soft, shy smile making his heart thump.
“Leaving so early? Going home to take a nap?” She giggled, and he held his breath. He’d never heard her do that and it was beautiful. This had to stop; he had to stop their friendship from getting any closer, or he’d be lost.
“Yeah, I have a few things I need to do. On a good note, I got an email back from Betwixt. They’re going to give me another setup. On the house.”
The smile slid off her face like a mask. “Oh, that’s wonderful. I hope this time they find someone who won’t make you seek out food for comfort afterward.” She gathered his cup and wiped his table everywhere except where his computer lay.
“I didn’t seek out comfort. I was looking for a friend.” He picked up the computer and headed to the till. Liberty stood behind the counter and turned her thousand-watt smile on him.
“Hey, tall, dark, and handsome, you’re just as good as any coffee we make.” She winked at him, and he laughed, though he didn’t feel very handsome at the moment. One dud date, one woman who left him at the altar, and one ex who had switched sides made a guy wonder just what he was doing wrong.
He took out a few bills and handed them to Liberty. “Have a good day, Liberty.” There was no good comeback for her comment. She
was just fun, and they had play-flirted since she’d started working there. He just didn’t feel like playing along anymore. He didn’t feel like doing much of anything anymore. He obviously had some massive character flaw that left him unable to make good decisions about people, especially women. All the more reason to avoid Addi. They’d both get hurt if he didn’t.
The psychology book lying in front of Addi held little interest. Though it was one of the courses she would need the most, the book itself distracted her. She’d picked it up at the off-campus used bookstore, and it had been turned back in at least three times. There were many colors of highlighter all over its pages, and wading through the chapters always gave her a headache, though it could also be the leftover sushi she’d eaten when she got home. It hadn’t tasted quite as good as it had when Drew had been there with her. At least she hadn’t had to eat ramen. Again.
Her phone lay a few feet away, but it had been silent all night. Drew hadn’t texted. Maybe he really only needed her after his horrible date to make him feel better. He probably knew she would date him in a heartbeat. She was good for his ego. Plus, he seemed to know she was always there, available. It wasn’t like he had competition for her time.
Her professors would tell her it wasn’t healthy to always be available for someone who only needed her for support, but was that really the case? She thought back over the past forty-eight hours. First, he’d found her online to ask her to make him coffee. That was needy. Then, he’d texted and told her he was coming over after his date because it had been so bad. Needy again. Last, he’d sent her a text in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep. Strike three.
She wasn’t his friend, she was his fallback. Addi yanked out a piece of paper from her notebook and wrote the names of all the guy friends she’d ever had who she’d crushed on. There weren’t all that many. As she thought about each one, the great majority of them had been friends with her only because she’d reached out to them, in the hopes that they would see her. Retrospect put her pitiful, less-than-stellar love life in DSLR focus. No one cared; not really.