Page 24
She pulled her hands away, a tiny grin still on her face. “Very true.”
“Yeah. So that’s a positive of the last year, I guess.” He shrugged. Hesitated. Debated whether to go on. Decided why the hell not. “I’ve been enjoying my classes. I’ve been enjoying making my game. But I still don’t know if it’s what I want to do with my life.”
“Really?” Shira tilted her head, stuffing another piece of banana bread into her mouth. “But I thought that was your passion.”
How to explain it? Sure, he enjoyed playing games, and he was enjoying working on them too. But…“I see you with your passion for art and the art world, and I just…I don’t know if I have that passion for anything,” he said. Then looked at her and reconsidered. “At least not anything work related.”
“Hmm.” Shira pursed her lips. He wondered what she was thinking. What a loser? What a directionless loser? What a pathetic directionless loser pining away for me even though I don’t feel the same way back? When she finally said, “Maybe you just haven’t found it yet,” it came as a relief. “Can you try taking other classes while you’re there? Maybe you’ll discover a passion for…I don’t know, archaeology or meteorology or woodworking?”
“Sure,” Leo said. “Maybe.” But he didn’t think so.
Her eyebrows raised. “How about passion for a person? Are you dating anyone?”
It was good he hadn’t taken a bite, because he would have choked. “Uh, not seriously.” Did that make him sound like he was a weirdo hung up on someone who wasn’t hung up on him back? “I mean, I’m on all the apps. But nothing’s stuck.”
She smiled mischievously. “You could always move to LA. I know a bunch of single women.” She paused. “Who are great. Mostly artists. Actually, you probably don’t want to date an artist. We’re difficult.”
“Noted,” Leo said, pretending to scribble an imaginary note in an imaginary notepad, then flushing with how stupid he must look.
Shira didn’t seem to notice, however. “Lots of women still live at home. It’s not weird. Housing is so expensive. Especially if you’re still in school.”
His cheeks warmed further. Oh, good. Great to hear that it wasn’t weird and sad and pathetic. He hadn’t been thinking that in this particular moment, but now he was.
Shira must have noticed this time because she added hastily, “Sorry, really stuck my foot in my mouth. I wasn’t trying to say that…I mean, I don’t mean that…ugh.” She closed her eyes and winced before opening them again. “You know I meant well, right?”
He nodded. Quick, change the subject. They’d run out of treats, so he pivoted to her other favorite topic of conversation. “How’s party prep going, other than the doughnuts? Everything ready for tonight?”
Her face lit up as she launched into a detailed explanation of everything from the new kitschy decorations to the chopped liver appetizer the deli had convinced her to try, and he nodded and smiled every time she paused while allowing his mind to drift.
Seriously, was there something wrong with him? It wasn’t even that he didn’t know what he wanted. He knew plenty of other guys in his classes (it was mostly guys in his classes) who weren’t sure what they wanted or how they wanted to get there.
But they knew they wanted something.
Maybe he’d bristled so much at what other people thought of him because he knew, somewhere deep down, that there was something wrong with him.
“…and I’m really excited to see what people think of the drinks this year,” Shira was saying. “I looked up some new cocktail recipes that are cheesy but sound like something people might actually want to try, unlike the latke cocktail. Do you think adults would voluntarily drink something bright blue?”
He smiled and nodded automatically before realizing what he was saying yes to. Hopefully she wouldn’t hold him—
“Okay, I’m holding you responsible if people hate it,” Shira said, elbowing him gently in the side. The car trembled from the force of a big rig zooming past. He trembled a little bit, too. “You know, being serious for a second, I’m really glad to be friends again.” Pause. “I mean, I know we’re only friends again because you’re stuck living at home, and I’m not trying to say that I’m glad you’re stuck living at home. I mean, not that living at home is a bad—”
“I get it,” Leo said before she could spiral again. “I am, too.”
He did want something. He wanted Shira in his life, and if she wasn’t going to be in his life romantically, then he wanted her in his life as a friend. They really had to do a better job of keeping in touch. He told her this, and she beamed. “I was totally thinking the same thing.”
That night, at the party, he landed at the dinosaur menorah, across the room from where Shira was lighting the abstract-art menorah, surrounded by her parents, a less-surly and suspiciously blue-tongued Talia, and William, who’d draped his arm over her shoulders. Leo held the shammash, and the blessings poured out of him, unremembered for so many years yet somehow still there in his mind, and surrounded by so much love, his heart was calm. This was good. This was good.
He made a Hanukkah resolution. Was that even a thing? Either way, he made one. By the next time he saw Shira, he would have quashed any feelings for her other than friendship, and their friendship would be great.
Texts between Leo David and Shira Levinson, April:
Leo: Hey, congrats on the show! Wish I could be there for opening night but all the pictures look amazing. I ordered a print of one of the paintings. I think it was called New Country
Shira: Thank you!! Excited but nervous
Leo: This is what you’ve been working toward your whole life. It’s going to be great
Shira: Ugh thanks for reminding me
