I was surprised when Jules said she was seeing someone. At first, I was grateful that it wasn’t Emily or any other girl, but the more I heard about Brian and the more pictures I saw of them together, the more I disliked him. There was never anything glaringly wrong. It was just a feeling I couldn’t explain. Like, he was wrong for her and undeserving of her time and affection. Which isn’t fair, since I haven’t actually met him yet, but the more Jules talks about him, the more I wonder what she sees in him.
Chloe meets Brian in February when he surprises Jules with a Valentine’s Day and early birthday getaway at Claytor Lake. When I ask Chole what she thinks of him, she says he seems great and that they’re cute together and that he treats her well. When I try to press a little more, she shuts it down and assures me Jules is happy and that I should give Brian a fair shot before jumping on the hate train.
I hate to admit that she’s right.
So that’s what I do. I ask Jules questions, I seem interested and invested in their rapidly growing relationship. And when Jules suggests we meet over spring break, my feigned enthusiasm is so realistic, I’m surprised I’m not nominated for an Oscar. But when NYU’s break doesn’t align with Penn’s, I’m relieved. It means avoiding meeting Brian for a little longer. It’s bad enough seeing their date nights posted on social media and weekends spent cozying up at grand estates, but meeting him? No thanks.
Then, a few days later, Jules calls to tell me she and Brian will be in the city overtheirspring break, and next thing I know, I’m agreeing to a goddamn double date.
“How do I look?”
I glance up from my phone and do a double take. Trinity does a little spin, showcasing a gorgeous long-sleeved black dress that dips just enough to be teasing but not overly revealing. Her hair falls in large curls, and she poses in a way that shows off her brand-new matching pumps.
“You look great.” I stand and take her hands, giving her a little twirl so I can take another look. She motions to her zipper, and I carefully slide it up and place a gentle kiss on the side of her neck.
“Really?”
When she spins back around to face me, I pull her close. “Yes, really. You always look great. But this…” I lean in to kiss her, careful not to smudge her lipstick. “Is something else.” When I press my mouth to hers, she pushes my chest, stopping me. “What—”
“Is that what you’re wearing?” She makes a circle with her finger and slowly checks me out. But not in a sexy kind of way.
I inspect my clothes. “What’s wrong with this?”
She gives me a look that tells me I should know better. “You can’t wear jeans and Chucks to La Maison Lavande.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Go change,” she instructs, stepping out of my hold and pointing to her bedroom.
“I didn’t bring anything fancy,” I whine, thinking about the few articles of clothing I shoved in my overnight bag. Despite knowing where we were going to eat, I really thought this sweater would be fine. Jules knows I don’t do overly fancy.
Guess this is Brian’s influence.
Trinity cups my chin and gently shakes my face. “Borrow something of mine.”
Begrudgingly, I do as I’m told. Not because I give a fuck about trying to make a good first impression or about the dress code of a fancy restaurant, but because looking nice is clearly important to Trinity.
I’m half-surprised when she doesn’t follow me into her room. In fact, I would’ve preferred it. She could just tell me what to wear insteadof making me stand here second-guessing myself. I stare at the clothes in her closet, most of which are way fancier than I’d feel comfortable in, and finally decide on a silk black button-up and a pair of her black ankle boots. I may have given up my Chucks, but I’ll be damned if I give up my jeans.
When I come back out, she immediately tucks in the front of the shirt and pulls it out a little in the front, then stands back to inspect. “Better. But we need to get you some nicer clothes. Especially if you’re going to start coming to some of my events.”
I sigh, not bothering to disagree, and grab my phone and wallet and shove them in my back pockets. As excited as I am to see Jules, I’m dreading the rest.
It doesn’t take long to get to the restaurant, but with no room to pull up at the door, we instruct the driver to drop us off a few buildings away. When he stops and I get out, I run my hands along my jeans, suddenly nervous. Not so much about meeting Brian but about seeing JuleswithBrian. The images of them on social media alone have wreaked havoc on me, irritating me for no apparent reason, so I have to believe seeing them in person will be even worse.
Torture, even.
I help Trinity out of the car and offer her my arm as we walk quickly in the direction of the restaurant, already ten minutes late due to me having to change, and anxious to get out of the mid-March wind.
Jules comes into view first. Her hands are shoved into the pockets of her long wool coat, and half her face is hidden underneath the soft red scarf I got her for her birthday. She also wears the matching red hat and a pair of blue flats.
Brian is next to her wearing leather gloves and an expensive-looking coat, his phone pressed to his ear.
Jules’s gaze finds mine almost instantly and she smiles. She taps Brian’s arm to motion that we’re here, and he ends the call and turns to face us. “You made it,” Jules says and goes first for Trinity, hugging her tightly and leaving Brian and me standing there, awkwardly sizing each other up.
He squares his shoulders and smiles or at least attempts one, and I nod. The first thing I notice, besides the large amount of hair gel, is that he’s short. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just, withmost of the photos I’ve seen of them together, I thought he was taller. He may have two inches on Jules andmaybehalf an inch on me. She usually goes for the taller, more athletic guys. Brian gives off more of an “I own a yacht” kind of vibe.
It’s weird.
