Hoot
Just met up with poli-sci guy for lunch, I’ll let you know how it was later lol
The text inflates and deflates me all at once, leaving me a wobbly mess staring dumbly at my phone. Nadine snatches it out of my hands before I can react and reads it aloud to the table. I shoot daggers at her with my eyes.
“Oi, who’s this poli-sci guy?!” Olly asks from the other end of the table, his Geordie accent making the syllables jump in his mouth like a tiny trampoline. I shoot him a look and his mocking smile drops. He ruffles his white-blonde hair and clumsily shuffles his lanky body in his chair. He’s Rick’s apprentice and while his artwork is phenomenal, I wouldn’t dare tell him that and let it go to his head; we’d never hear the end of it.
“But who is Hoot and why are theymeeting up with poli-sci guy?” Nadine asks me, handing me back my phone.
“Because I gave her his number.” I mutter without making eye contact with anyone and begin digging into my potatoes hoping that if I cram enough of them in my mouth I won’t have to have this conversation.
Rick huffs a laugh from beside his wife and begins eating, but Vic has her lethally pointed finger nails steepled in front of her and is scrutinizing me in a way that makes me want to admit to a crime I haven’t committed. In another life, she would have been an incredible interrogator. She always said it was the Latina in her, but I think her rough upbringing and strong survival skills made her fiercely protective and hypervigilant. I attempt a quick glance up to see if she’s still looking only to get caught in her direct line of sight. It’s like a trap into admission and breaks my usual schooled features into a squirming anxious mess.
“Okay,Hoot,is my friend named Celeste and I’m like her…matchmaker.” I mumble the last word as quietly as I can.
“What was that now?” Nadine taunts.
“Didn’t hear you down here!” Olly hollers. I refrain from groaning and put my fork down.
“Matchmaker,” I say clearly to the whole table. “I’m…” I struggle to find the right words that don’t make me sound pathetic. “If I see a guy come into Biblio & Brew that fits her type then I approach him, ask if he’s single for my friend, then describe Celeste.” I shrug. Hearing it out loud, it is pathetic.Completely pathetic.
Vic’s eyes narrow on me. “And how would you describe her, Dominic?” she asks casually but the table falls into silence awaiting my answer. I absolutely hate this kind of attention on me right now. I fidget with my fork again before clearing my throat.
“I, um, just say, she’s about five foot four, curvy, but …toned,” I wince at my own words. I glance around tentatively at everyone before I continue, “She has golden blonde hair that goes just past her collar bone. She’s confident.” I look down and smile a little, remembering the first time she gave me that horrendous nickname. “She knows what she wants and goes for it, and she’s incredibly smart, you know she’s pre-med?” I look up to meetVic’s eyes and clear my throat. Vic’s gaze has softened, a hint of a smile on her lips.
She unfolds her hands from under her chin and says softly, “She sounds lovely, Dominic. She’s welcome to the shop anytime,” then she picks up her fork and spears a potato. At Vic’s approval everyone begins diving into their meals. For once I’m happy to have Olly’s constant chatter as he rambles off descriptions of his latest sketches.
The crew assembles to clean up, stacking dishes in the kitchen before heading into the living room. I post up on dish duty and stand by the sink, already frothy with soap bubbles. I scrub away at the dishes, thankful to not be the target of conversation anymore. Just as I’m rinsing off the last plate, I hear footsteps.Vic appears in my periphery, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her outrageously long silky black hair slides over her shoulders, exposing her sleeves of tattoos on her tanned arms, and the few tattoos she has on her neck.
“I’m almost done here,” I say just to fill the space. Vic never feels the need to fill silence with words and for most of the time I’ve known her and Rick, I’ve adopted the same nonchalance. However, when Vic directs it at me, I somehow go back to being an awkward talkative pre-teen. She just has a presence to her. I respect the hell out of it. It’s also a little frightening.
“I need to be frank with you for a minute.” Vic says, crossing her arms. I snort, as iffrankisn’t her usual tone, but remain quiet and let her continue. “The way you described Celeste tonight, Dom, it didn’t sound like it was coming from afriendlyplace. It sounds more like someone wanting to be matched, romantically.Is that why you’re doing this? Because you have romantic feelings for Celeste?”Vic asks quietly, not allowing her voice to carry to the others in the family room. I take a glance toward the small hallway that leads to the rest of the crew, and hear a burst of laughter coming from Nadine and muffled voiceschiming in. I sigh and put the last dish away, hanging the damp dish towel atop the faucet to dry. I turn and lean against the counter beside Vic.
“Even if there was any hint of…whateverfor her, I’m not what she wants.” I turn and give Vic a tight-lipped smile.
“Why do you say that?” Vic asks, her large brown eyes scrutinizing me up close.
“Because she has this list…of attributes, qualifications, that I don’t meet. She wants a knight in shining armour, a prince charming…this perfect guy. That’s just not me,” I say, a defeated tone slipping unintentionally into my words.
“I see. Well, from my experience, don’t let your feelings go unspoken. Plus, look at the food you make here. Any woman would be happy with a man of your stature, and a full belly of the delicious food you cook.” Vic says in finality. She gives me a gentle pat on my shoulder. “If your motives are purely altruistic then be my guest, help her out. But if you’re developing feelings for her then you have to let her know.” Vic walks away to the group in the living room and I hear her join their boisterous debate on tattoo styles.
I guess Vic’s right in her sentiment, but I would know if I truly felt anything for Celeste. I’ve had past relationships and felt the bubbles of jealousy, the heat of romantic chemistry, the anger of a misunderstanding, the joy in shared interests. What I have is just a solid friendship with Celeste. She’s awesome, but it’s clear she wouldn’t be into me even if I felt that way to her. Which I definitely do not. Just friends.
As I mull over Vic’s words my phone vibrates in my pocket. A small ball of giddy anticipation has my brain hoping its Celeste. I shake my head at the thought and open my phone reading the message.
Jude
Dom, this is Jude. Pass my number to Celly, thanks
I reread the message wracking my brain trying to remember who the fuck Jude is. I suddenly remember the guy I had seen on campus whom I nicknamed in my headThe Hairbecause of his ridiculously shiny blonde mop of cropped curls. He kind of looked like a living breathing Prince Charming and I thought Celeste would get a kick out of it. I didn’t really expect him to go through with it. Itisodd for a guy to approach another guy inquiring about a heterosexual blind date out of nowhere. But here we are. I type out a quick reply.
Great, I’ll pass along your info.
I renamed himJude “The Hair”in hopes of making Celeste laugh before sending his contact her way. One side of my mouth twitches in amusement and my stomach flips over itself a little when I think of Celeste’s laugh. Another text rolls in.
Hoot
Thanks! The Hair? Hm, if it’s good enough for a nickname from you then I should get his hair care routine.
