“Well, it wouldn’t be the best thing! You know how busy I am with school right now.”
Lionel’s cheerful expression fades. “I do. I just worry about you. Living in that apartment alone.”
“Lionel, I appreciate how invested you are in my love life, but I promise, I’m fine. Anyway, I have to leave before I’m late for class.”
“Ah, that reminds me.” He smiles. “Your toll.” Grinning, I reachinto my shoulder bag and pull out a Tupperware of leftover meat sauce and pasta. Lionel lifts the lid, sighing as he takes a whiff.
“How early is too early for lunch?” he asks dreamily.
Tossing him a wave over my shoulder, I head out through the lobby doors.
AFTER GRABBING THE LARGESTcoffee available at the bodega, I make it to class just as demonstration is getting ready to start. Chef spends the morning explaining how to prepare venison tenderloin and aspic, a meat-infused Jell-O that looks like one of Jim Halpert’s pranks fromThe Office. For once, I am not the least bit interested in having leftovers for lunch. Thankfully, the apple tart we’ll be preparing for dessert looks delicious.
We head into the kitchen as soon as he finishes, and it isn’t until I’m done marinating the bones that Ali and I finally get a chance to chat.
“So,” she says, setting the sauce on the stove to reduce. “How was the rest of your night on Friday? I didn’t hear from you all weekend.”
I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. It’s hard to think straight while battling through the fog of exhaustion. I’ve been up since 3A.M., when I woke to Jake’s hand slipping between my legs.
“Actually, I ended up going out after you guys left. Have you ever seen the eighties cover band at (Le) Poisson Rouge?”
Ali’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Can’t say that I have. How did you end up there?”
“Um… I met a guy at the bar after you left, and he invited me.” I avoid her curious look as I busy myself preparing the molds for the aspic, carefully picking one up and encasing it in plastic wrap.
Undeterred, Ali yanks the mold out of my hand and slides itout of my reach. “Excuse me?” she squeals. “You met a boy, and you’re just now telling me?”
“Hey, give that back! We need to get those into the freezer so they have enough time to chill.” Snaking my arm around her, I grab the molds and head to the cold side of the kitchen. Ali is waiting for me when I return, her chin propped on her fist as she stares at me expectantly.
“You will spill this tea immediately.”
“There’s not much to tell,” I say. “He was… cute. We had a few drinks, danced a little bit, and he walked me home. I had fun.” I brush my hands on the dish towel I’ve tucked into the band of my apron, even though they are already dry.
“He walked you home?” Ali raises her eyebrows as she regards me skeptically. “Did you kiss him?”
The same butterflies from Friday night erupt through my belly as images flash through my mind. Jake’s hips pressing my body against the doorframe. Jake’s fingers sliding beneath the hem of my shirt. Jake’s hot breath against my ear.
“Uh, yeah. We kissed.” My body betrays my attempts at nonchalance as a hot flush snakes its way up my neck and spills onto my cheeks.
Making no effort to hide her mounting excitement, Ali taps her fingertips together gleefully. “I can’t believe this! Tell me every detail!”
Her eyes bore into me, as though she can see right through my scalp to the filthy images burned into my brain. The palms of my hands grow clammy under her gaze. She studies me for a second before clapping a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening to the size of saucers.
“Ohmigod!” she squeals through her fingers. She drops her hand, staring at me in disbelief. “Yousleptwith him?”
I bite my bottom lip, staring back in silent confirmation.
“Incredible,” she says, shaking her head. “In the six monthsI’ve known you, there’s been zero dick in your life, and the one night I leave you to your own devices, you opt not to take ‘Netflix and chill’ literally.”
I’ve gotten so close with Ali since the start of school that I sometimes forget she’s only ever known the version of me that currently exists. The truth is, I was a boy-crazy preteen, the type who wallpapered her bedroom with photos of floppy-haired pop stars and spent hours daydreaming about cute boys at school.
But love in all its forms lost its luster after Mom died. I stopped being a child the day she left me, and suddenly boys and silly crushes seemed a lot less appealing. Sure, there had been a few men in my life since then, but none were particularly noteworthy. Until now, of course.
“Geez, Ali, can you keep it down? Some of us are trying to work.” John, the career changer, glares at us from his station.
“Oh, fuck a tree, John,” Ali hisses. “I promise, the day you finally get laid, I’ll throw you a goddamn parade in celebration.” John’s face turns the same shade as his bright red hair. He grumbles under his breath before returning to hismise.
“I can’t believe you boned a dude you just met,” she continues, shifting her attention back to me as she bumps her tiny shoulder against mine.
