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“Jack’s family had the shorter version on DVD! It’s not my fault.”
As he opened the car door, I found myself appreciating his body more than when he’d picked me up. He was tall and lean, with jeans that showed off a tight little butt. His chiseled jawline looked confident, each contour casting shadows in the light of a nearby street lamp. There was a striking contrast between his yellow hair, pearly-white teeth, and suntanned skin that stirred something inside me.
He gave me a playful smile. “Coming?” I realized he was still holding open the car door for me.
“Sorry.” I stepped inside and wondered if Brandi knew me better than I knew myself.
Liam lived in a fifth-floor studio apartment ten minutes from Jack’s place. It was sparse, but smartly decorated: kitchen to the left, living room next to it, and a bedroom area to our right. Tall windows faced the west, with the Gulf of Mexico barely visible in the distance.
“I like it,” I replied. “Minimalist, but not too much so.”
“The Buddha said that suffering in life is optional,” Liam said while carrying the food and drinks over to the kitchen area. “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is caused by craving. Whether you’re craving material possessions, or a better position in life, or anything else. By overcoming these desires that can never be satisfied, we can accept our position and therefore avoid suffering.”
“I didn’t know you were Buddhist.”
“I’m not,” he replied cheerfully. “But I think that’s a good way of looking at life. I’ve learned to be happy with what I have. Everything got easier when I stopped comparing myself to others.”
I walked around the big open room, admiring the furniture and photographs that were on the wall. A young Liam and an older woman, probably his mother, standing at the airport. Probably before he was leaving for America as a teenager. Next to it was a selfie of him and Jack together at school. The same high school I attended, judging by the painted lockers in the background. Then there was a photo of him and another man standing on the beach holding surfboards. The other man had bronze skin and dark hair.
“That’s when Mateo taught me how to surf,” Liam explained from the kitchen. “The surf’s usually not great here, but two years ago it was wild. He insisted on teaching me while the conditions were good. Food’s ready, by the way. I’m just getting us some drinks.”
“I always wanted to learn how to surf. Never had the courage to try.” Following the photographs, I ended up next to his dresser in the bedroom area. Remembering the conversation I had earlier, I asked, “Is this the dresser you spent the day organizing?”
“The very same!” He walked over with two glasses filled high with frozen drink, the bottom half red and the top white. He handed one to me and then opened the middle drawer, then gestured dramatically. “Feast your eyes upon this.”
There were about twenty shirts inside, folded and stacked sideways in a row. They were ordered by color: black, then red shades, then orange, yellow, green, blue.
“Such order,” he said with awe in his voice. “Such tidiness. Have you ever seen such a harmonious display in all your life?”
“It’s breathtaking,” I replied. “Truly. My closet back home is a mess by comparison.”
“You’ve been living in New York, right?” he asked while grabbing our plates of food.
“For three years, since graduating college.”
He sank into the couch. “You went to Florida State, right?”
I sat next to him, leaving a healthy amount of space between us. “That was Brandi. I went to Clemson. Bachelor of Arts, with a focus in photography.”
Liam turned the movie on. “Funny, I always assumed you two went to the same place, being twins and all. Probably not fair, is it?”
I shrugged. “I love my sister, but it was nice going out on my own. It helped me figure out who I was, rather than who we were.”
“Makes sense. Your degree makes sense too, considering the answer you gave about Annie Leibovitz. You do that for a living?”
“Yup. Weddings, graduations, baby showers. Lately I’ve been making most of my money doing a thing called Flytography.” I took a bite of food. “This is really good.”
“Flytography? Like, you take photographs of airplanes?”
I laughed. “Not quite. It’s an app for people looking to get photos taken while they’re on vacation. There are photographers in every major city. When customers visit New York, they pick a photographer from the app and book a session with them. I show up, take photos, then send them the results a few days later.”
“You should do that down here. Lots of people come here for vacation. Especially Clearwater Beach, or St. Pete Beach.”
“I was actually looking at the app today,” I admitted while biting into a French fry. “There’s a solid amount of demand, and I could use the extra cash. I’m still paying rent back home while I’m down here.”
The first scene of the movie began, and we grew quiet while watching and eating dinner. The grouper was delicious, and I found myself wishing I had more to eat. Instead, I drank my Miami Vice faster. After all, I wasn’t driving.
As the movie went on, we both tried to quote it before the other person. We quickly realized we were evenly matched, so we called a truce and watched it in peace. When our drinks were finished, Liam got up and refilled them.
