“—and it’s not fair.” She harrumphs.
It’s not fair; I agree. It wasn’t always like this. It’s just easier this way, having a revolving door. After being dumped by handfuls of women for various and very mean reasons (too much of a himbo, not enough substance, not having enough earning potential as a teacher, blah, blah). Thatsucked. Besides, I’m good at revolving doors. I could go around and around in circles forever without getting dizzy or dehydrated.
She pulls out her phone. “Help me,” she asks me. “Help me snag Adam.”
“Who’s Adam?”
“The guy from the Shore,” she tells me.
“Was he even nice?”
She shifts, looking uncomfortable. “What does it matter if he was nice? I’m sure you don’t go around selecting your blonde for the night based on their Enneagram type and monetary donations to the ACLU.”
I frown at her body language. “What aren’t you telling me? Was he a dick?”
“No,” she says exasperatedly. “He just… I wasn’t his first choice, I guess. But I’m never anyone’s first choice. It’s like men don’t even know I exist.”
“I know you exist,” I insist.
“You don’t count,” she huffs. “I’ve known you since the womb.”
I roll my eyes. “What do you mean, you weren’t his first choice?”
“That blonde wrapped around you in the bar was his first choice,” she shoots back, extremely irritated now.
I think about that. “She was really hot,” I admit. She looked like Mia, too.The fuck?!I didn’t take her home either, though. She was too wasted by the end of the night, and no one wants that. I went home alone and horny. Again. In fact, that’s what led to Bathroom Incident.
“ELIAS!” she shrieks. She smacks me on the side of the head.
“Fucking hell, Mia?—”
“Okay, so what should I say in this text?” she asks, after calming down.
I have an irresistible urge to grab her phone and throw it across the room. “Umm…”
“Actually, wait,” she says, putting her phone down. She looks at me with her X-ray eyes, and I can see the thoughts brewing in her head. I close my eyes in dread. I don’t know what this is, but I already know I’m not going to like it. She pokes my chest repeatedly. “Elias, listen to me. Look at me.”
I open my eyes, my green matching her blue.
“Elias, I need your help.”
“Help…what?”
“Help me be like you.”
I choke on my saliva, peering into my coffee and wonder if Mia’s laced it with LSD, shrooms, or both.
“Help me with everything, the flirting, the texting, the whatever. I don’t trust anyone else to help me do this. You’ve known me my entire life, and you’re basically my older brother, but you’re not actually, so it’s not weird for you to be helping with this. I trust you. Ineedthis. Elias, please,” she begs.
I keep my mouth shut.
“And we’re going to be together all week for the conference!” she realizes with a start, looking at me with a feral grin. “We can practice the whole time we’re there! On strangers! Please, Elias.”
I’m pretty sure this is not what Leo meant when he asked me to look out for his little sister.
“Elias,” she says, poking me in the chest again. I swat it away, wishing she would stop repeating my name. “You owe me for Bathroom Incident.”
Excuse you. “I don’t owe youshitfor Bathroom Incident;you’rethe one who went in there?—”
