“Ugh, I hate you for having a regular, boring boyfriend.”
Probably way too quickly I clarify. “He’s not my boyfriend.”And he’s definitely not boring from what I’ve seen so far.
“Oh please.” She drinks more of her coffee which at this point is almost gone. “You’ve seen each other like every day since you’ve met and he’s totally into you.”
I smile at the thought. Technically only about half of the times we’ve seen each other were both intentional and mutual, but I mean, I’m not a prude, I know Jay is interested. I guess hearing it from my best friend just hits differently.
“Plus you’re like putty in his hands so…”
I roll my eyes and kick her leg under the table. She’s not entirely wrong there either. In this last week and a half, Jay and I have grown closer than I would have ever imagined when I saw him that first day. Who would have thought the sexy guy with muscles and tattoos would end up also being sweet and a really good listener? Now I know what people mean when they talk about falling fast. I think when it comes to Jay, he’s a cliff and I sort of nosedived right off.
“So what’s going on with the car?”
The question of the year. I was on the phone with Mom on my way here. She was complaining about the car taking up so much space in the garage that she was going to take a sparkler out of the Fourth of July box she was looking for and shove it somewhere I’m pretty sure a car doesn’t have.
“Beats me. Last I heard he had turned down another offer because as the man pulled up, a black cat walked in front of his van. Dad called it bad luck and told the poor guy to leave. If you ask me, I think he has cold feet on selling it altogether.”
“Oh, Tommy boy.” Chloe has this thing with names and refuses to call my dad Tom like a normal person. It borderline makes me uncomfortable.
“Can you please not call him that?”
“Listen, Big Tom just needs to sell the thing to the highest bidder. Sentiment won’t matter once the money hits the account.”
“Damn Chlo, that’s kinda cold.”
She rubs her forehead. “I know, I’m sorry. I tend to get a little ganglordy when I’m hungover.”
Chloe might be the most dramatic person I’ve ever met, but that’s exactly why I love her.
“Why don’t you go sleep it off, Gambino.”
She flips me a middle finger and a smile and grabs her bag off the table.
“Keep me posted on the boy and the car, okay?”
“Deal.” I blow her a kiss as she walks out the door.
I’mfinishing the last few sips of my butterscotch latte when my phone buzzes with a text from a number I don't know. I swipe the message open.
UNKNOWN:Hey Claire, it’s Maddie! I made Dad give me your number. Here are some pics the photographer at my party got of you and Jay. So cute. Thanks for coming! Xoxo
Attached to the message are two pictures of Jay and I.
The first is of the two of us by the gift table. The viewpoint is of our sides as we’re standing, talking to each other. This was right beforethekiss when I called him Jamison for the first time. I still can’t believe I didn’t even consider that Jay may not be his full name.
I’m grinning in Busy's as I look at the picture. Man, we look great together. Our matching black with his shirt and my dress, and the contrast of his inked skin versus my blank canvas. We’re both wearing casual smiles, but even in the subtly we look genuinely happy.
The second picture is entirely different. It looks like this one was taken from the entrance to the VIP section. The two of us are just barely out the doors on the edge of the main dance area. My eyes go to Jay’s powerful figure, and all I see is his tall, broad, back. Both hands are predictably in his pockets and I can’t say I’m complaining about the view.
Then, I see myself.
I’m in front of Jay, just slightly off to the side so that you can see me in the frame. My hands are in the air, my eyes closed, mouth open, and I know from the memory that I’m belting the words to the song in the background. This girl looks…serene. She doesn’t look weighed down by life changes or job decisions. And she doesn’t look like she’s overthinking the entire situation. She looks light and relaxed. She looks carefree.
Before our first kiss, Jay told me I wouldn’t want someone like him. For some reason, he sees himself as damaged. Like whatever has happened to him in the past has left him broken. But that’s not what I see.
Isee a guy allowing the girl in this picture to finally feel like herself. A version of her that's been hidden by stress and worry —by anxiety and overthinking. A version that doesn't look burdened at all by his baggage.
No, I see a guy who despite his “brokenness,” makes the girl in this photo feel more whole than she ever has before.
