by Amelia Stone
I frowned. “Yes, Cee, I’m nuts.” I took another bite of enchilada. “I’m cooking enough food for an army in an effort to convince my parents to scrap the thirty thousand dollars they’ve already spent on my college education, just so they can then turn around and spend twice as much to send me to culinary school.” I reached for the shared plate of tortilla chips, or strips as they’re called at Elmer’s, scooping up a mound of shredded cheese. “And I think I’m in love with Brian,” I mumbled.
Jamy squeezed my hand. “I’m sure they’re going to love your food,” she said, obviously not hearing that last bit.
Celia made a record-scratching noise. “Hold on. Back the fuck up. You’re in love with Brian?”
I took a sip of iced tea, nodding sheepishly.
Celia stared at me, dumbfounded. “You’re right, you are nuts.”
Jamy tsked. “It was bound to happen,” she pointed out.
Celia nodded grudgingly. “True. You guys have been sexing it up for months. No way you weren’t going to fall for him. I mean, it’s Brian.”
Jamy nodded. “He’s pretty delicious,” she said, in a rather dreamy manner.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I said, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “Have you slept with him?”
Celia laughed at my possessiveness, but Jamy just shook her head. “Like he’d even go for someone like me,” she said sadly, looking down at her body self-consciously. Jamy had a sensuous plus-size figure, with curves for days, but Celia and I could never get her to believe she was the beautiful and desirable woman everyone else saw.
“You hush,” Celia said, echoing my thoughts. “You are a gorgeous woman and any guy would be lucky to get his hands on your curves.”
“Amen,” I said, tapping Styrofoam drink cups with her in toast.
Jamy frowned slightly. “We’re not talking about me,” she said, looking uncomfortable as always at the praise. “Today is about Hannah’s problems.”
“True dat,” Celia agreed. “That’s enough drama for one day.”
I groaned, plopping my head in my hands. “What am I going to do?”
“Well, how does Brian feel?” Jamy asked.
I winced. “We don’t talk about feelings. Brian avoids serious discussions like the plague.”
Jamy frowned. “Yeah, but don’t you at least know where you stand?”
Celia shook her head. “They’re just knocking boots. No strings.”
I tipped my cup at Celia. “What she said.”
“Yes, but you should still talk about it with him. If your feelings for him have grown, maybe his have, too,” Jamy argued gently. “He’d be crazy not to fall for you.”
I frowned. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like he’s falling, too. He’ll do the sweetest, most thoughtful things.”
“Like what?” Jamy asked.
I took another bite of enchilada, savoring the spiciness of the sauce. “He left sunflowers for me this morning. To wish me luck for tomorrow.”
There was a collective “aww” from my best friends.
“Your favorite flower!” Jamy exclaimed happily.
I nodded. “And he always gets me Oreos when he goes to the store.”
Celia laughed. “Well, there’s a keeper right there.”
“And he kisses my forehead, and does the dishes without asking, and snuggles when we watch TV.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Jamy said with a sigh.
“You sound like me when I talk about Todd,” Celia added, smiling.
I groaned. “But then he tells me how glad he is that I’m being so cool about our casual arrangement.”
Jamy’s round face scrunched in sympathy.
Celia shook her head, shifting in her seat to tuck her legs under herself. She swept a lock of her long, black hair behind her ear. “But has he slept with anyone else since you started bumping uglies?”
“I don’t think so,” I said hesitantly. “He’s home most nights. But who knows what he gets up to when he’s not?”
Both ladies hummed thoughtfully.
“Have you guys been on an actual date?” Jamy asked.
I shook my head.
Jamy made a face. “That doesn’t sound promising.” She looked down at her nails, which were painted a sparkly blue with white chevron stripes today. Jamy was into DIY nail art, and her perfect manicures always made me feel like a slacker.
“You haven’t been out with anyone else, either?” Celia asked.
I shook my head.
“Are you free to?” She had a mischievous gleam in her brown eyes as she looked at me.
“I guess so.” I nodded, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “Why?”
She rubbed her hands together. “You should go on a date.” Her face lit up in an evil grin. “With someone else,” she clarified.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to date other people. I want Brian.”
She huffed even as she took a huge bite of her tostada. “Yeah, but he’s got his head up his ass, clearly.”
Jamy nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe going on a date with someone else will light a fire under him, you know?”
I frowned. “Or it’ll drive him away.”
Celia shook her head. “No, it’s perfect! A little jealousy is just what he needs to get his shit together and realize he’s in love with you.” She took a sip of her horchata. “And I know just the person. Todd has a friend who has been lusting after you forever.”
“Oh, you mean Eric? He’s cute,” Jamy added.
“Totally cute,” Celia concurred. “And he’s really into you,” she added, pointing her plastic fork at me.
I looked back and forth between them. “I don’t know. Seems kind of cruel. To both of them.”
“How is it cruel?” Celia scoffed.
“I’d be leading this Eric guy on, for one. It’s not fair to go out with him when I don’t want to. Especially if he really likes me.” I polished off the last of my beans, toying with my fork. “And if Brian does actually have feelings for me, I could really hurt him by throwing a date with another guy in his face.”
Celia shrugged. “The chances of Eric getting his heart broken after one date are pretty low.”
“But the chances of Brian getting his broken are higher,” I countered.
“Hey, all’s fair in love and war, right?” Jamy said with a smile.
I looked at her for a long moment. If sweet Jamy, who never had an unkind word for anyone, thought this was a good idea, then maybe I should do it. If it got me what I really wanted in the end, then how bad could it be?
I took a sip of iced tea, followed by a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do it.”
When I got back from Denver after Thanksgiving weekend, I was anxious to see Hannah. I hadn’t been home in almost a week, and I missed her way more than I thought I would. Just the idea of Arizona being home was down to Hannah, really.
It was weird to wake up in bed alone while I was gone. Even though I’d been doing it all my life, I found I didn’t like it at all anymore. I was used to having Hannah all tangled up with me in the mornings. We would usually start the day with sleepy morning sex and a shared shower, and we’d end the evening in each other’s arms. My body was definitely feeling the deprivation.
I missed other things, too. If I was being honest with myself, it wasn’t just sex anymore. I missed vegging on the couch and watching football with her. I missed her laughter when I said something stupid. I missed hearing about her day, and eating dinner with her every night.
I especially missed dinner. My mom was a terrible cook. Hannah’s gourmet meals had spoiled me.
And speaking of dinner, I was dying to know how her Thanksgiving with her parents had gone. She hadn’t told me much over text, and I knew she had a lot riding on that turkey.
“Hannah, you home?” I shouted when I walked through the front door, dumping my bag and kicking off my shoes in the foyer.
“Yeah, what’s up?” she called out from her room.
&
nbsp; I made my way down the hallway as quickly as I could, eager to see her, to touch her. “Tell me how it went,” I said, stepping into her room.
She beamed as she poked her head out from her closet. “Fantastic!”
“Yeah?” I asked, smiling and raising my eyebrows in anticipation.
“They agreed to let me go to culinary school!” she said, launching herself into my arms. I twirled her around, kissing the top of her head. “They raved about my food. My mom said she had no idea how serious I was about it.”
“That’s amazing!” I smiled down at her. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks!” Her answering smile was blinding. “They did say I have to finish my bachelor’s first. They want me to have something to fall back on. But if I’m still serious about culinary school after that, I can enroll in the Le Cordon Bleu program at Scottsdale Community.”
“That’s so awesome!” I put my hands on her hips. “I can’t believe they gave in so easily.”
She raised one shoulder. “My mom said she’s been worried about me. She’d already figured out that I wasn’t happy about becoming a lawyer.” She sniffed. “She said she could see the passion I put into cooking dinner on Thursday, and she would never want to stand in the way of that.” She smiled. “My dad was a little harder to convince, but in the end he gave in.”
“I knew they’d come around once they tasted your amazing food,” I said, leaning down for a kiss. She turned her head, looking uncomfortable. I frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled, but it was a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing. I just need to get ready.”
And that’s when I noticed her uncharacteristically fancy outfit. She had on a purple dress, and her hair and makeup looked sleeker than usual. She slipped on a pair of heels as I watched, and I frowned. Hannah only wore heels when she absolutely had to. She’d compared them to the torture of Chinese foot binding on multiple occasions.
“Get ready for what?” I asked, suddenly wary.
She wouldn’t meet my eye as she moved past me, digging around in her jewelry box. “I have a date.”
I stared at her for a moment, stunned. “A date,” I repeated, my tone hollow.
She looked up at me, her expression defiant. “We did say we could date other people, right?” she said as she put on a pair of sparkly earrings.
I frowned. “Yeah,” I said slowly. I vaguely remembered agreeing to that. But that was months ago. Before… all this.
“Well, then, it’s all good, right?” she said briskly, tossing me a look over her shoulder as she left her room.
“I guess so?” I said, feeling confused.
I felt wrong-footed. I mean, we had said we could date other people. But I didn’t expect Hannah to actually take me up on that. I hadn’t even looked at another girl since Hannah and I got together. So why was she suddenly so gung-ho to date someone else?
There was a knock on the door. “That’ll be Eric,” she said.
I scowled as I followed her down the hall. “Eric, Todd’s friend from high school?”
“Yup! Apparently he’s wanted to ask me out for a while, but he was too shy. Celia set it all up.”
I grabbed her wrist, turning her around to face me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hannah.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why?”
I scrambled for the right words. “That guy’s a douche.” No, that wasn’t it. I mean, it was. Any guy who wanted to date Hannah was a douche by default. But that’s not what I wanted to say.
She frowned as another knock sounded from the door. “Be right there,” she shouted. “Listen, Brian,” she continued, just loud enough for me to hear. “Eric is not a douche. He’s a really nice guy.” She shook her wrist free. “And he actually likes me.” She crossed her arms. “I deserve that. I deserve a good guy who wants the whole package from me.” She looked up at me, fire in her eyes.
I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, unsure how to respond. What exactly did she mean by that? Was I not a nice guy? Did she think I didn’t want the whole package?
Come to think of it, did I want the whole package?
She shook her head, looking disappointed. “Never mind. You obviously don’t get it.” She moved past me, her hand reaching for the door handle.
“Hannah,” I said in a commanding tone, and she turned to face me again. “Don’t go.” I made to grab her wrist again, but she stepped out of reach.
“Why?”
“I don’t like that guy.”
“You barely even know him,” she said.
“I don’t think he’s right for you,” I continued stubbornly.
“How can you possibly know that?”
I hesitated. “I think you can do better.”
Ugh, come on Brian. Why was I having so much trouble saying what I meant?
“Like who?” she cried.
I hesitated again. Deep down, I knew the answer, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Why, why, why couldn’t I say it?
“I just don’t like him,” I said instead, stupidly. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She threw her hands up in frustration. “And is that it, Brian? Is that the only reason I shouldn’t go on this date?”
I couldn’t speak. I could hear my brain shouting at me to answer her, to tell her what I was really feeling, but I couldn’t open my mouth and make the words come out. Hell, I could barely make sense of what was in my head. No way could I say it out loud.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving now. Have a nice night, Brian. Don’t wait up.”
And with that, she left.
I stood and stared at the front door for a while, like that would make her come back. When she didn’t, I stomped around the apartment for a little while, pissed off and not really understanding why I got so damn tongue-tied. I had the feeling that the magic words were right there, within my reach, but I couldn’t grab them. Words to take away her anger, to make her stay home with me where she belonged.
See, this is why I don’t talk about deep shit. Ever. My brain locks up and I go into idiot mode.
I did know that Eric kid was all wrong for her, though. I didn’t know him well, but he just had to be wrong for her. No one was good enough for Hannah.
And was I supposed to just sit at home with my thumb up my ass while she let some creep wine and dine her? What if she brought him home with her? Was I supposed to pretend I couldn’t hear them through the walls? Was I supposed to be okay with another man touching her?
The thought of Hannah fucking some other dude had me seeing red.
Frustrated, I pulled out my laptop, figuring I’d get some school work done. But after an hour of staring at the blank document that should have been my art history paper, I decided to throw in the towel. I’d already been to the gym that day, but maybe a nice, long run would clear my head. I needed to work out some of this pent-up aggression.
As I was about to close the laptop, an incoming video call popped in. A glance at the screen told me it was Sam.
I hesitated, but ultimately decided to answer. I hadn’t spoken to Sam in a couple of weeks, and I missed my best friend.
Maybe he could give me some insight into the mind of his crazy-making twin sister, too.
“Hey man,” he said when I answered. His dark red hair looked especially vivid, and his normally pale skin was more freckled than usual. His green eyes, so like his sister’s, were crinkled in a big smile.
“Hey,” I replied. “Isn’t it like five AM there? What are you doing up?”
He laughed. “You know me, I’m always up early. I just got back from a run,” he said. “Figured I’d call you now, before you got a chance to go out for the night.”
Go out? I snorted. Why do that, when I could sit at home, torturing myself, imagining Douchebag’s hands all over Hannah?
I shrugged. “It’s Monday. Not really a party day.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Since when did that stop you?”
I
frowned. “Since I decided I might actually want to graduate from college.” This was my senior year, after all. Time to buckle down and get serious, or I’d never get a decent job.
He laughed. “If you say so, old man.”
I nodded, not really paying attention. “You’re looking good, Sam. Portugal agrees with you.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I took a trip out to Cascais this weekend with some friends. Caught some sun.” He smiled. “And didn’t burn, so score one for the ginger.”
“Sounds fun,” I said half-heartedly.
“Yeah, the coastal towns here are really pretty. Decent waves, too,” he added.
I tried to smile, but it felt forced. “Good deal,” I said.
He frowned. “What’s up, man? You look like someone pissed in your cereal this morning.”
I thought for a moment, debating what to tell him. I hadn’t yet clued him in to my friends-with-benefits arrangement with Hannah. It’s not that I wanted to lie to him. It’s just that, best friend or no, I didn’t think he’d appreciate me fucking his sister. It was kind of against the bro code.
“Your sister went on a date,” I said finally, opting for part of the truth. Needing to do something with my hands, I grabbed one of Hannah’s magazines from the coffee table and began shredding it.
“That’s great!” he said. “She needs to get back out there. Get over that asshat.”
I mumbled something indistinct.
“What?” Sam frowned at me again. “Don’t tell me you want her to get back with Andrew.”
I scowled. “Fuck no!”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to have to come back early and knock some sense into you.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Like you could take me.” Sam was a full head shorter than me, and I outweighed him by at least fifty pounds.
He grinned. “True story.” He grabbed a bottle of water from somewhere off-screen and took a sip. “So who’s the guy?”
I shrugged. “Some kid named Eric. Todd’s friend.”
Sam frowned as though trying to remember. It was probably hard for him. He couldn’t even remember his own birthday without his sister’s help.
“I don’t know him all that well,” he finally said with a shrug. “But Todd’s a good guy. He wouldn’t let Hannah go out with some dickhead.”