Intermediate Thermodynamics: A Romantic Comedy (Chemistry Lessons Book 2)

by Susannah Nix

  Esther got into her Prius and pushed the conversation with Cynthia out of her mind. It was fruitless to keep thinking about Jonathan. All it brought her was pain. And she wasn’t going to turn into someone who spent the rest of her life pining over the one who got away. She wasn’t going to be tragic.

  Today had been a good day. Better to focus on that instead of the things that sucked. She started up her Rihanna playlist and blasted it on the drive home, singing along off-key, not caring that the other drivers around her could see her doing it.

  Her brother called just as she pulled into her parking space. A feeling of grim foreboding stole over her as she stared at his face on the screen. The end of the month was only two weeks away, and her mom still didn’t have anywhere to live.

  “Hey, brother,” she said, shouldering her bags as she got out of the car. Her eyes skated over to Jonathan’s Lexus, parked beside hers. It was at a slightly different angle than it had been this morning, and there was a coffee cup in the console that hadn’t been there before.

  She was going to need to work on this stalker thing if she was serious about getting over him.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Eric said.

  “What?” Esther tore her eyes away from Jonathan’s car and headed toward the stairs.

  “Mom found herself a place to live.”

  “What? How? Where?” Her voice bounced off the stairwell in front of her and echoed around the carport.

  “You know that handyman the landlord always sent to fix shit?”

  A vague memory of a pot-bellied man with longish gray hair and a predilection for tie-dyed shirts surfaced. “Jake?”

  “Blake.”

  “Whatever.” She’d only met him once, when he came to fix the disposal.

  “She’s moving in with him.”

  Esther stopped in her tracks, halfway up the stairs. “What?” The word reverberated back at her.

  “She says they’re in love, although I’m pretty sure it’s his ability to pay rent she’s in love with.”

  “But…” Esther didn’t actually have a follow-up. She didn’t know how to react at all.

  “I know,” Eric said.

  She tried to remember what Jake—Blake—was like. He wasn’t very memorable; she couldn’t even picture his face. He’d seemed fine though? As best she could recall. Cheerful. Polite. He hadn’t set off any alarm bells or given off serial killer vibes. Of course, she hadn’t been evaluating him as a potential live-in love interest for her mother. He was just the guy who was there to install a new disposal.

  “Is that— Are you okay with that?” she asked Eric as she started up the steps again.

  “I’m okay with the fact that Mom isn’t going to be sleeping on my couch. I’ve decided the rest isn’t my business.”

  “Seriously?”

  “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

  “How’s it going so far?” Her steps slowed as she approached Jonathan’s apartment, torn between dreading another chance encounter and hoping for one. The blinds in the front window were drawn again, but there were lights on inside. She stared at them as she walked past, wondering what he was doing tonight, and who he was doing it with. Was his new lady friend in there right now? Was she drinking his coffee, and reading his scripts, and having sex with him in the same bed Esther had slept in?

  “Look, Mom’s gonna do what she’s gonna do,” Eric said as Esther fumbled her keys out of her purse and unlocked her door. “Even if I wanted to raise an objection, it wouldn’t work.”

  It was a fair point, Esther conceded as she let herself into her apartment and flipped on the lights. Once their mother had set her sights on something, it was almost impossible to talk her out of it. When she’d announced she was marrying that artist, Ian, Esther had pointed out that she’d lose her alimony, and that she hadn’t known Ian for that long. That maybe it would be better to wait, just to make sure this was really what she wanted. Her mother had responded by eloping to Vegas without telling anyone. The marriage had lasted for all of a year.

  “Honestly, the person I’m most worried about is Blake,” Eric said. “I’m not sure he knows what he’s getting himself into.”

  “How much do you know about him?” Esther deposited her bags on the dining table and headed into the kitchen to feed Sally. “Is he a decent guy?”

  “He seems okay. You know the kind of guys Mom goes for. He’s probably fine.”

  Their mother had an affinity for men who wanted to take care of her. They tended to be kind, dutiful, and pliant. Susceptible to her charms and easily manipulated. Ian had been that way, and so had their father. Until they’d both reached their limits and grown a backbone. It had just taken her father thirteen years longer than Ian.

  “So that’s it?” Esther said, dumping a scoop of food into Sally’s bowl. “We’re letting her do this?”

  “There’s no letting involved. She’s a grown woman. She makes her own decisions.”

  “Until she digs herself into a hole she can’t dig herself out of. Then she’ll come running back for help.” Esther wandered into the living room, toed off her shoes, and sank down on the couch. “What happens when the relationship combusts and she’s out on the street again?”

  “Then she’ll have to figure something else out for herself. I’m done. That’s what I told her.”

  Esther wasn’t confident Eric’s edict would stick, but good for him for making it. “Okay, then. Crisis averted, I guess.” So, this thing she’d been stressing herself out about for weeks had just…resolved itself with no effort on her part. See? You don’t always need to swoop in and solve everyone’s problems for them. Sometimes things work out just fine without your intervention.

  “I told you she’d figure something out on her own if we refused to do it.”

  “I told you so isn’t a good look, brother.”

  “You should be happy. You don’t have to worry about Mom anymore.”

  “For now.” She was always going to worry about her mother. She was always going to feel responsible for her. That wasn’t something she could just get over. But maybe she could try worrying a little bit less.

  “How’s everything else going?” Eric asked. “You and Jinny make up yet?”

  Esther leaned back and propped her feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah, actually, we did.”

  “I knew you would.”

  She didn’t tell him she’d taken his advice, because he was already being insufferably smug. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

  “What about work?” he asked. “You’re not still thinking of transferring, are you?”

  “No, work’s going better. I got praised by one of the team leads to the project manager today.”

  “Hey, congratulations. That’s great.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Sounds like everything’s unicorns and rainbows. Funny how fast things can turn around, huh?”

  “Yeah. Funny.” Esther thought about Jonathan, the one thing that hadn’t gotten better, and wouldn’t.

  “What about the guy?” Eric asked, like he could read her mind.

  “There is no guy.” She really needed people to stop asking her about Jonathan. It was making it harder to get over him.

  “The neighbor. You know, the one you and Jinny were fighting over.”

  “We weren’t fighting over him,” she said a little too forcefully. “He’s a non-issue.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” He was out of her life. It would be a lot easier to accept that and move on if everyone would stop bringing him up. She didn’t want to have to think about him anymore.

  “If you say so.”

  She said so.

  Chapter Thirty

  “It says here, your best nude lipstick shade is the color of your nipples.” Jinny was at Esther’s place again, lying on the couch flipping through an InStyle magazine as thick as a textbook.

  Esther was folding laundry on the d
ining table. “You know what I’ve never done? Seriously contemplated the color of my nipples.”

  “Kind of hard to test in the store, I’ll admit.” Jinny reached for the Frappuccino she’d brought with her. It was the same pinkish-purple color as her nails, and it looked disgusting.

  The timer on Esther’s phone went off. “That’s the last load.” They were going out for drinks as soon as Esther’s laundry was done, and then meeting Yemi for dinner later, after he was done helping his parents around the house.

  Jinny waved her off, sucking noisily on her straw.

  Esther grabbed her laundry basket and headed downstairs. Tonight would be her first time going out with Jinny and Yemi since they’d started dating. Her first time officially being the third wheel to their perfect happy couple. She wasn’t nervous about it, exactly—she knew it would be fine. But she was glad she and Jinny were pre-gaming before they met up with Yemi. The alcohol would help smooth over any awkwardness that might present itself.

  She got waylaid by Mrs. Boorstein in the courtyard, so it was fifteen minutes when before Esther let herself back into the apartment. Jinny was sitting on the couch reading Jonathan’s screenplay.

  Esther stopped in her tracks. “Where did you find that?”

  Jinny looked up. “Under a J. Crew catalog in your bedroom. It’s like you wanted me to find it.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” Esther dropped her laundry and walked over to snatch the script out of Jinny’s hand.

  “Hey!” Jinny stood up and grabbed it back, shaking it at her in accusation. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

  “Because it’s nothing.” Esther picked up her laundry basket and carried it into the bedroom. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Jinny followed, right on her heels, still shaking the script at her. “This is not nothing.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Esther set her laundry on the bed and went to the closet for hangers.

  “This script is about you!”

  “Yes, I know.” Esther concentrated on sorting her laundry. She didn’t want to be having this conversation.

  “He captured you so perfectly, it’s freaking uncanny. Who knew the guy was such a good writer?”

  Esther didn’t say anything.

  “Esther!”

  “What?” When she looked up, Jinny was frowning.

  “Jonathan wrote a whole screenplay about you and how much he loves you.”

  Esther’s eyes skated away guiltily. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “It’s a big deal. You didn’t tell me he was in love with you.” Her tone was accusing, and a little hurt.

  They hadn’t talked about Jonathan much when they’d had their heart-to-heart. They’d talked around the subject a lot, but not directly about him. Jinny had assumed Esther’s hookup with him had been nothing more than a drunken one-night stand, and Esther had avoided disabusing her of that notion.

  “Because he’s not.” Even if he had loved her, he didn’t anymore. It was a moot point.

  “Clearly, he is. This Emily character is totally you, and the character professing his love to her is totally him. You don’t write something like that about someone you’re not in love with. You don’t give them a copy of it unless you want them to know.”

  Esther grabbed one of her work shirts out of the basket and shoved it onto a hanger. “It’s fiction.”

  Jinny let out an exasperated breath. “I know you’re not that naive. Are you seriously in this much denial?”

  “I doesn’t matter. We’re finished. He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

  Shaking her head, Jinny sank down on the bed next to Esther’s laundry basket. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  “See what?” Esther focused on matching up socks, refusing to look Jinny in the eye.

  “I thought you were acting weird about Jonathan because of me, but it wasn’t about me—it was about him. You really like him, don’t you?”

  Esther stared at the socks in her hand. “It doesn’t matter,” she said again.

  “Yes, it does. Tell me the truth.” Jinny was using her stern principal voice. There was no denying her when she used that voice.

  “I did like him,” Esther admitted finally, her voice coming out thin and wobbly. “I do.”

  “Esther!” Jinny grabbed her arm, beaming at her. Her face glowed like one of those sun lamps for seasonal affective disorder.

  Esther winced. “What?”

  “You’re in love!” Jinny said, beaming even brighter. Where did she get all that light from? It defied the laws of physics.

  Esther shook her head. “I’m—” She stopped. She’d been about to insist she wasn’t in love with him. But…why? Why was she so determined to pretend it wasn’t true?

  “I can’t believe it!” Jinny stood up and hugged her.

  Esther froze, bewildered, as she was enveloped in a cloud of Tory Burch perfume. “What’s happening right now?”

  Jinny stepped back, still gripping Esther’s arms. “You have to tell him.”

  Oh, no. No no no. Esther shook her head. She would have pulled away, but Jinny’s tiny hands held her in a vise grip.

  “You have to tell Jonathan how you feel,” Jinny said. “You have to get him back.”

  Panic rose in Esther’s throat. Her eyes widened like a rabbit caught in a snare. “I can’t.”

  Jinny let go, and Esther spun away from her, grabbing two handfuls of clean underwear out of the basket. “You have to,” Jinny said.

  Esther shoved the underwear into the top drawer of her dresser without folding it. The drawer was already full, and she had to cram it to get it all in. She really needed to clean out her underwear drawer next.

  “I’m serious.” Jinny was using her principal voice again.

  “That’s not happening.”

  “Esther.”

  She could feel Jinny’s gaze on her. She stared into her underwear drawer, refusing to meet it. “I can’t date a guy you dated. That’s gross. It’s a violation of the Friend Code.”

  “Fuck the code,” Jinny said. “I barely dated him. And it was under false pretenses, so technically it doesn’t even count.”

  Esther turned around. “That’s even more reason not to do it.”

  Jinny had her hands on her hips. It made her look taller than she was. She had an intimidating physical presence for someone who was only five foot two. “I care more about your happiness than some stupid code. I care about the fact that we’ve been friends two years, and I’ve never once seen you fall hard for a man. Now that you finally have, I’m not letting you throw it away. Especially not because of me. No way.”

  “It’s not up to you. In case you forgot, he’s already moved on.”

  Jinny rolled her eyes. “Bullshit. You don’t write something like this and then just move on.”

  “He did. You saw her yourself.” Esther’s eyes watered at the memory.

  Jinny stepped toward her, her expression growing softer. “Whoever that woman was, it can’t be that serious. Not yet, anyway. That’s why you’ve got to move fast.”

  Esther shook her head, but Jinny ignored her.

  “You need to tell him, and you need to do it before he really does get over you and move on.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “Yes, you are.” Jinny crossed her arms, and Esther knew she’d lost. There was no arguing with Hurricane Jinny. She was an unstoppable force. She’d get what she wanted, one way or another.

  “What if it doesn’t work?” Esther said, feeling nauseous. “He was pretty upset with me. What if I tell him how I feel and he doesn’t want anything to do with me?” She wasn’t sure she could survive being rejected by him. It would probably kill her on the spot.

  “Then at least you tried. He wrote this amazing thing about you. You have to at least try. He deserves that much.”

  She was right, even though Esther hated to admit it. Jonathan had put himself out there for he
r, and she’d pushed him away. He deserved the chance to reject her back. Even if it killed her.

  Esther exhaled a long, unsteady breath. “You’re mean, you know that? You’re a mean person.”

  A smile spread across Jinny’s face. “You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy.”

  “I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.”

  “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let yourself love people. The more people you love, the happier and richer your life will be.”

  Esther couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that. People were unreliable. If you went around giving out love to just anyone, you increased your chances of getting hurt. She’d already exposed her soft underbelly to Jinny. Hadn’t she fulfilled her quota of letting people in for the month?

  Jinny stepped forward and took both of her hands. “He loves you, Esther, and I’m pretty sure you love him back. That’s too rare to throw away. Promise me you’ll talk to him.”

  Esther opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  Jinny’s eyes narrowed with determination, and her hands tightened on Esther’s. “Promise me, or I will go knock on his door right now and tell him myself.” She would absolutely do it too.

  “Fine,” Esther said. “I’ll do it. But in my own time, my own way.”

  Jinny let go of her hands. “You’ve got a week. If you haven’t done it by next Saturday, I’m doing it for you.”

  Great. A whole week until her imminent death. She better start writing up a will.

  Esther spent the first five days of her allotted week agonizing over the looming conversation with Jonathan and giving herself an anxiety stomachache. She ran through all of the different things she could say to him in her head and imagined a hundred different responses—most of which involved him telling her he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

  “Have you talked to him yet?” Jinny asked every day at work.

  “Not yet,” Esther answered every day.

  “You need to.”

  “I will.”