by Alex Rosa
“Yeah,” she giggles. “Look at you. You’re like a nice piece of meat.”
I laugh. I like her. “What do you do for a living, Meg?”
Her red lips part, revealing a pearly white grin. “I write for Cosmopolitan Magazine.”
“Figures,” I joke as I blatantly eye her up.
“Oh, I like you. This should be fun. Let’s get some food,” she winks.
I ordered a burger and I swear Megan was ready to scoff at me when she heard me, but I’m not jealous as I watch her pick at her salad with a lot less enthusiasm than me.
I plop the last of my French fries into my mouth, three at a time. Have I mentioned I eat when I’m stressed? In case my consumption of an entire bag of Doritos didn’t give it away.
I look over at Noah who’s gone the healthier route as well with a plate of grilled salmon over a bed of brown rice. I’m sure it’s delicious, but I wouldn’t trade this burger for the world. The disgusting goodness is everything I need as I stare between both brothers, hating my existence.
“So, Troy, What do you do? Julia mentioned you work with her. Are you a designer, too?”
Noah snorts a laugh. He’s the only one, but he still laughs. I don’t understand until I see Troy’s icy glare.
Troy eats a forkful of his tortellini pasta, chewing it before responding, as if using the few seconds to calm his temper.
“Um, not really. I’m an architect for the most part, but I tend to help with the design process, too,” he replies coolly.
Noah laughs again. I nudge him. Troy sees this and waves me off. “Don’t worry about it Jules, your prince charming thinks what I do is funny.”
It’s evident Troy is angry, but I also see the hurt. It isn’t a new hurt either. It’s a weathered look that marks the creases around his eyes as he speaks.
“But your work is amazing. What’s there to laugh at?” I ask, and I can’t believe I just said it, but I refuse to feel bad for it. I know this pain all too well. I feel it in my bones. Isn’t it part of the reason I traveled four thousand miles?
Noah laughs another time and this time it annoys me.
“Why are you laughing at your brother? He’s incredibly good at his job.”
Troy’s fork stops mid-journey to his mouth as he watches me. I wish I could tell him that he doesn’t have to explain the situation to me, because I get it. So much so, that I wish I didn’t.
“Nothing,” Noah replies. “Troy used to design big buildings in the city until he took the foofy job of designing.”
I’m tempted to scarf down another nerve-wracking mouthful of burger, but I twitch instead. “I design things,” I reply curtly.
“Yeah, but babe, you’re a girl. It’s fitting.” I try not to flinch. I know he begins to see the anger in my eyes when he says it, and he back peddles. “No-no. That’s not what I meant. Stop. It’s more of a family inside joke. It’s no offense to you, babe. I promise. We just tease him. He used to be this city planning big shot, and the next thing we know he’s picking out paint colors. It was funny at the time,” he straightens out his throat, “and not funny now.”
I really wish he’d stop calling me babe.
I don’t find it funny. Not in the beginning, not ever. It was like this when Tyler asked me when I was getting a real job even though I already had my dream job.
“Have you ever been to The Point Hotel?” I ask. “The one with the blue crystal chandelier and the marble entry with the bar in the back?” I regret saying it instantly, because it’ll give me away completely. I studied Troy’s portfolio without him knowing.
Megan screeches, cutting off our dialogue. “I love that place! It has the 20/Twenty restaurant in it. Martinis to die for!”
I nod, still staring at Noah, and not daring to look at Troy who still hasn’t spoken. “Your brother built it and designed it.”
Noah’s face softens. I haven’t looked at anyone else, but he darts his eyes around the table as if shocked and a bit embarrassed. He turns back to me with wide-eyed, remorseful concern. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm. I was kidding.”
I realize he’s lowered his voice, so I do the same. “It’s just that I work there. So, if you insult your brother, you’re insulting me.”
Noah’s face etches itself with an odd sense of profound understanding. “I’d never want to insult you.”
I believe him, but I plead this time, feeling pulled in by his eyes. “Well, you just did.”
“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely and I’m relieved. I really am. He leans in and presses a kiss to my lips and then to my nose. “I’m really sorry. I’m more than happy to offend my brother, but not you, not ever.”
My guts knot themselves into guilt. He’d never want to hurt me, yet I’ve already hurt him. In that instant, I have to let it go. It’s only fair, whether he knows it or not.
I smile. Kiss him on his cheek. “I’m sorry, too; I overreacted.”
He shakes his head. “No you didn’t. I’m insensitive.”
Stop being perfect. You were almost an asshole, and it made me feel better.
I need burger. Now.
I turn back toward the table and my heart joins my guts in that tangled mess. Megan and Troy aren’t paying attention. They’re too engrossed talking to each other to care. I guess they couldn’t just gawk at me and Noah’s first tiff, but their faces are so close, even as Megan sips her wine. She doesn’t take her eyes off him. I don’t know Megan well, but those eyes hold a wicked purpose.
Noah interrupts unknowingly, or maybe he does and he enjoys cock-blocking his brother as he grabs his fork and asks, “Hey Megan, I know we barely know each other but can I have bite of your salad?”
Troy blurts out, “you’re a neanderthal,” and we all erupt into laughter, even me.
“Shut up,” Noah says. “Please Megan? I’ve been eyeing that kale since I missed my morning green smoothie.”
Megan’s grin is remarkable as she says, “First, definitely have some. Second, have you ever got the Green Morning Mountain smoothie at Super—“
His laughter cuts her off. “Only every Tuesday and Thursday before my run. Jeanine, the owner, loves me. I give good tips.”
I roll my eyes as the conversation ensues and they trade jogging routes. Sometimes healthy people piss me off. That’s when I take another bite of my burger, seeking a distraction, knowing I can’t be part of that conversation if I tried. I hate kale, and I most definitely hate running in any form, but give me a mountain to climb and I’m there. New York doesn’t have mountains to hike from what I can tell.
Megan’s screech erupts from her again as she exclaims, “Now you have to try the smoothie with cumin! It tastes spicy but it’s SO good for you.”
I roll my eyes, but as I do they fall onto Troy who’s already staring at me, examining me, swallowing me like the ocean itself. I wish his eyes had an evacuation route, and I wish they wouldn’t twinkle in the dashing sort of way that makes my joints pointless.
I chew through my burger slowly, and I hate admitting that I enjoy just staring. So, that’s what we do. We stare for a moment. It’s like we both know we can’t talk if we wanted to anyway, because at this point, what could we talk about right now?
Suddenly, he mouths the words “Thank You” to me from across the table and I know he’s referencing me defending him earlier.
All the blood in my body rushes to my face. I grin, but I also give him the middle finger, which gets him to smile so gloriously that I’m convinced that his smile is way healthier than stupid kale. His smile is like a super food, and then I think about his lips, and that’s when I have to look away.
A funny ringtone goes off. It’s a howl, no wait, a bark. No, it’s a howl. Well, it’s definitely an animal sound.
I scrunch my face as the table falls silent and Noah pulls out his phone, grumbling.
Troy speaks, “I can’t believe you still have Lola as your work ring
tone.”
Work? Lola? Lola must be a dog.
Noah smiles but it transitions to a grimace as he turns to me. He presses his lips quickly to my forehead, noticing my confusion. “I gotta take this. Excuse me.”
He takes the call right at the table. The exchange is maybe six to ten words before he gets off the call. Lot’s of yes’s and uh-hm’s and a couple yes sir’s.
He turns to me first, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “I gotta go into work. They need some back up with a call and need more hands at the station.”
My face contorts into a look of pain. I do NOT want to be left with Troy and Megan. No chance in hell.
“Don’t go,” I whisper, squeezing right back.
He smiles his crooked smile. “Will you miss me?”
“I missed you all day, and I just got you.”
I hear a screeching chair and turn to look at Troy who gets up to hail a waiter. I turn back to Noah.
“Sorry, Babe, but I have to. C’mon, let me walk you outside. I’m not in a huge rush.”
I refuse to let go of his hand as we stand. Noah grabs for his wallet.
“Nope, don’t worry about it. It’s on me. I already gave them my credit card,” Troy replies as he watches his brother.
“I’ll get it next time.”
Troy nods, but his face says go fuck yourself.
We head to the exit as Troy stays behind to sign the receipt.
When Noah and I make it outside he twirls me into his arms. I stop perfectly encased in his embrace, my face nose-to-nose with his as I let out a laugh. He is the charmer, that’s for sure.
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” he says as his eyes dart all over my face. “You could come play cops and robbers with me at the station?” he asks.
I roll my eyes, but grin. “I don’t think so. You should just come with me back to my apartment.”
When I say it, I’m not sure I mean it. I think I do, but I worry I say it because I know he can’t.
Without warning he presses his lips to mine and I don’t let him go. I want to kiss him. I want to feel passion, and for some terrible reason I want him to miss me when he’s at work, because I think I’ll miss him. Our schedules clash, and I don’t see him that often. His mouth his warm in comparison to the outside, and I like the combination.
He pulls away too quickly. I wasn’t ready to let go yet.
“Sorry, but I have to go.” His frown marks his rigid, handsome face so unnaturally.
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll rain check you on a sleepover, though.”
I laugh. “Who said anything about a sleepover?”
He chuckles. “You totally said Noah please come fall asleep with me.”
I shake my head and let him go. “You’re a piece of work. Now go fight crime.”
“Tonight it’s more like Noah go file paperwork.”
I offer him one last smile as he turns to leave.
When I turn back around Troy is watching me. Was he staring the whole time? I want to be mad, but I think I’m finally able to identify Troy’s unreadable expression as hurt. He’s hurting.
I release a large huff of air, the fog from my mouth clouding between us. I’m about to say something, I don’t know what, but I make it as far as opening my mouth to explain myself, but Megan appears between us and grabs for Troy’s hand, turning him away from me. Now I feel like I’m the one intruding.
Megan had three glasses of wine at dinner. I know why she did it. She had just as much nerves as I did, but hers were more valid than mine. The wine has made her bold, and like a nymph again in the snow.
Actually, it’s disgusting how beautiful they look next to each other, both stark in their differences, but stunning nonetheless.
I feel like a miscellaneous accessory and the need to distance myself from this situation amplifies tenfold.
Before I get a chance to attempt an escape, I wonder if Megan is coming with me back to the apartment. That’s when I hear her conversation with Troy. It’s clear as day, even among the 10PM street traffic. I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I do it anyway.
“Troy, come home with me. I need tonight. How about it?”
He laughs. “You up for that?”
“Yes, I need it. How about you? I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I guess I should have mentioned that.”
Another laugh. “Neither am I, but you’re right. I need it, I think. Yeah, why not? I’d love to see your place.”
This time she giggles, and I want to vomit my delicious burger everywhere, but I’m worried I’d get puke on the shoes that she borrowed.
“JUUUUULLLIIIAAA!” she screeches.
I turn around. I hate how my skin feels like it’s doused in itching, burning poison ivy and that my blood reaches an odd boiling point, its source bubbling in my gut.
I’m jealous, angry, upset … and hurt. I know I have absolutely no right to feel any of it. That’s when I force myself to change my tune.
“Yeah?” I respond.
“Is it okay that me and Troy just take a cab to our building by ourselves?”
SHE WINKS. SHE FUCKING WINKS.
Focus, just nod and smile. This is girl code, and you’re friends. Troy belongs to no one, and he can fuck whomever he damn well wants, even if you hate it. You chose Noah. You had your chance.
“Of course! I can easily find my own way home.”
I can see out of my peripheral that Troy is about to argue with the idea of me going home alone. I don’t need him caring about me before he goes off to screw Megan’s brains out.
I turn to Troy, and it’s my severe look that halts his words. Good.
“I can take care of myself. You two obviously deserve some alone time with dealing with Noah and me. I’m glad you two hit it off. Have a great night.”
My stomach somersaults as I walk away thinking I found it way too easy to lie, but when I make it a block I realize that I’m in the middle of the city by myself, and it feels … good. Better than good.
This is my first free moment by myself while in the center of the jungle I’ve been wishing so desperately to explore.
I blink back a few tears from the whole experience of the evening and tell myself it’s because of the frigid wind chill.
I’m going to go do something that’s been on my to-do list since arriving.
There isn’t a curfew in the city that never sleeps.
I walk into Megan’s apartment and it smells of fresh squeezed lemons and roses. It’s overly feminine for me. It doesn’t smell like Julia’s. Her apartment smelled like cinnamon and fresh laundered clothes. Her living room, be it minimal, made me want to crawl right into, not that I could have.
Megan’s apartment is near perfect. She has at least three flower arrangements throughout her living space, mirrors and framed cityscapes on her walls. Her turquoise picture frames match her turquoise curtains, and her orange pillows match the damn coffee table centerpiece and the vintage rug. It’s overwhelming girly and still … sterile. Not cozy. I don’t want to cozy up on any of this. I guess this is what happens when you work for a magazine that tells woman how to live. It’s a beautiful space, but it lacks personality, which in actuality, I’m sure Megan is full of.
She turns around when she gets to the middle of the room, and something has changed. She’s frowning.
I’m confused. I thought I was ready for this. I thought after the pain of tonight that burying myself in another woman is the only solution. The last time I tried this exact solution it backfired. Her frown hints that I might have the same outcome.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly, feeling weird. I don’t know Megan well enough to care, but guilty by association, I feel obligated to.
She slinks toward me and shrugs. She tries to smile, the corner of her mouth lifting up only slightly.
“Troy, do me a favor and kiss me first.”
When did my life become at the whim of
woman?
I ask with raised brows. “Are you sure?”
She nods and instead does not wait for me to make a move. She does it on her own as she stands on her tiptoes as she approaches me, and presses her lips to mine.
At first it’s innocent. We stand there for a couple seconds with our lips just touching, and then she begins kissing me back. I get the feeling she needs to feel in control. I also get the feeling this is the most bizarre attempt I’ve made at getting laid in a while.
She coaxes my lips open and dips her tongue in my mouth. I let my hands rest on her hips, and all I can think is these are not the curvy hips my hands want.
I know I need to delete that want from my being. I decide to take this moment into my own hands.
I kiss her with more fervor, pushing her back against the wall of her hallway. A quiet gasp escapes her as her hands take large handfuls of my shirt against my chest while her lips try to keep up with mine. I need this. Whatever it is, I need to feel something else, someone else.
That’s when I taste tears. Salty tears.
I pause, my hands freezing on her tiny hips, and I open my eyes as I slowly peel away from her lips.
“Megan?” I ask as I take in what I’m witnessing. Her mascara begins to run in black streaks down her cheeks. If ever there was ever a moment I was so insanely confused, this would jump to the top of my what the fuck list. “Are you okay?”
She gasps, covering her mouth, and then wipes at her cheeks as she says, “oh my god. I’m so sorry. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life. And you’re so hot. And I’m so stupid.” She gasps again, but this time she sounds like a seal in the harbor. All I can do is watch, utterly dumfounded as she continues.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, walking out of my grasp and back into the open space. “This is so unfair to you. I just got out of a serious relationship, like, a couple weeks ago. Actually, it’s been seventeen days, to be exact.”
My brows knit together, wondering why the clarification is necessary. I open my mouth to respond, but she cuts me off.
“—I thought you asking me out was good for me, ya know? I adore Julia, too. The idea of fitting in with someone like her gives me hope I’m not such a raging bitch, and that maybe I could help her out with her wardrobe, ya know?”