“Let’s drop it,” I say, too quickly, before he can delve deeper into my relationship with Andrew. “It’s not worth rehashing.”
He’s silent for a beat, and it isn’t until I make it all the way to the front of the line that I realize how long we’ve been talking. I turn onto the main street, hands tightening on the wheel when he asks, “Are you sure?”
“Sure that I want to stop talking about my brother?” I huff a laugh. “Definitely. We’ll get through the surprise party, and then our friendship can slip under the radar again. No harm, no foul.”
“Friends, huh?” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“I mean that in the most general sense possible.”
“Sure you do, Leticia.” He has the gall to laugh. “See you later, friend.”
“Later, sunshine boy.”
“That nickname is so not the insult you think it is.” Then he hangs up.
Three days later, Nathaniel calls to make plans for a second date. The call came randomly on Friday night, without a text to warn me, which of course means I stumbled over my response and accidentally agreed to go out with him the same weekend as Andrew’s surprise party. He didn’t even seem fazed at the idea of meeting my family so early on. I thought about canceling almost as soon as we hung up, but then I realized he could make a good buffer between me and,well,everyone. My parents. My brother. And more than anything, it might be nice to finally have a date to bring to these chaotic family functions. If anything, it’ll stop Andrew from making any more convent jokes.
Still, there’s always the risk that something could go wrong. I’m still me, after all.
The first person I text the news to is Julian. I don’t even think about it before pressing send on the message.
Julian:Two weekends in a row. The boy works fast, I’ll give him that.
Leti:You think it’s too fast?
Julian:It doesn’t matter what I think.
I frown down at the screen, an ache forming at the base of my forehead the longer I read his last message. Of course what he thinks matters. He’s the one who matched me with Nathaniel in the first place. He’s the one who coached me before our first date, as embarrassing as it is to admit I needed coaching. Why is he holding out on me now?
I type out a reply but press backspace when it doesn’t come out right. I must spend too long crafting a message, because my phone vibrates with a call and the screen changes to a dull gray background, Julian’s name displayed at the top.I need a picture of him, is my first thought. For his contact photo. It’s a stupid thought, one I immediately shake my head at having.
“What?” My voice comes out more curt than I mean it to.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he says. “It’s not too fast if you don’t think it is. Your opinion is the only one that matters here. That’s all I meant.”
“Okay.” A sigh of relief loosens the tension in my shoulders. “You didn’t really need to call me to say that, but I appreciate it anyway.”
“This was faster,” he says. “Do you want me to come over? We can talk it out. You can tell me what you’re thinking about the Nathaniel of it all.”
“No.”Yes.It’s the only thing I want, to my endless frustration. When did I allow myself to rely on him for so much? I let out a grumble as I throw myself down on the bed. “We don’t have to. You’ve done more than enough for me already. More than I probably deserve.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says. “And you’re in luck. I went to Trader Joe’s today and came back with pumpkin everything, so if you’re in the mood to eat your feelings, we can do it together.”
“What doyouneed to eat your feelings for?” I ask, suddenly curious. “Are you dating too? Is it going as poorly as my dates?”
“Maybe not so poorly with Nathaniel in the picture.” There’s something off about his voice, but I can’t pinpoint what it is. “Once you stop overthinking everything anyway.”
“I do have a tendency to overthink,” I begrudgingly admit. “And you never answered my question. But it’s fine. I’ll let you get away with it for now, but be warned. I’m not through invading your personal life.”
His soft laugh fills my ear. “Whatever you say, Leticia.”
“I mean it. Bella’s way of getting me to talk is three glasses of boxed wine. I’ll figure out what yours is.” I’m not sure why I’m suddenly curious about his dating life. If I’m only turning it around on him so we don’t have to talk about mine, or because I’m genuinely interested in what’s going on with him. I’m not used to talking about myself so much, but it’s all we do when we’re together. It feels shameful that I still know so little about him.
“Three glasses of wine, huh?” He’s deflecting again. “Any particular kind?”
“As if I’d tell you that,” I scoff. Then, after a pause, I ask, “Is my brother there?”
“Nope.” I can practically hear his smirk. “He’s staying the night at Kayla’s, so you’re free to cry in peace here. I hear my shoulders are pretty comfy. I won’t even put it on your permanent record, because that’s how gracious I am.”
