Page 3 of All Our Almosts

Lia has never liked Elliot. Not since the very first day they met. She’s always said he’s wrong for me. In her words, he’s “stuffy and cocky and dickish,” but she just doesn’t know him like I do.

Elliot doesn’t know Lia well either, which is why he doesn’t recognize the jab for what it is: her way of saying “why didn’t you congratulate Sophie about the interview when you first walked in, you jerk?” (Her internal monologue, of course—not mine.)

So Elliot responds sincerely. “Oh, of course.” He lifts his water glass, and I’m a little embarrassed that everyone else does too. This is really unnecessary.

“Sophie,” he starts, tilting his glass towards me, “I think it’s nice the way you chase your dreams, and this program sounds like it would be really nice for you. Cheers.”

(Okay, he may not be the best at toasts.)

Glasses clink together and I give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, honey. And here’s a quick toast to us.” I squeeze his arm then turn back to my friends to explain, “Yesterday was our third anniversary.”

Only Nolan seems to brighten at the news—he’s such a sweetie. “Wow, congrats you too! You have to tell me how you did it, because the dating apps are really not working out for me.”

“They’re not?” I ask just as Andy gripes, “I offered to help with your profile.”

Lia barks out a laugh, then points a brightly colored nail across the table at Andy. “You are the last person who should help him. Your dating habits are insufferable.”

“How are they insufferable?” he asks, feigning innocence even though he knows what he’s like.

“You only ever date hot girls with huge boobs,” Lia says, “and then get bored of them within like a month.”

Andy rolls his eyes. “Nice to meet you, Pot. I’m Kettle.”

“Get off his jock, Lia.” Nolan elbows his sister before turning back to Andy. “And dude, it’s not a problem with my profile. I swear it’s a great profile.” (God bless him and his confidence.) “I just feel like it’s really hard to click with someone when you’re talking online.”

“When was the last time you asked out someone you met in person?” I ask, then nod towards Elliot. “You know, we met at a work thing.”

“Ahh… I don’t know.” Nolan rubs the back of his neck in his boyish way. “When it’s in person I chicken out.”

I squeeze his arm in encouragement. “Just try it. As long as you’re respectful and pay attention to her cues—”

“And remember I’ll kill you in your sleep if I ever find out you harassed a woman,” Lia adds without humor.

“Yes, that,” I agree. “But with that in mind, I think practice makes perfect.”

“So you really think I should like… go make small talk with one of the women at the bar? And then just ask if she’d want to go out sometime? Wasn’t that move retired in the 90’s?”

There are, in fact, two perfectly lovely blonde women seated at the side of the bar nearest to us. They look to be in their mid-20’s, maybe sisters? Regardless, they’re both dressed up with no dates in sight, and their body language says they’re as open as anyone. But before I can tell Nolan I think it seems reasonable, Elliot starts chuckling to himself and mutters, “Don’t do it, man.”

“Dude, I thought you met your girlfriend in person. Why don’t you think I should do it?”

Elliot shakes his head. “Just trust me, you don’t want to date a girl like that. They’re always more trouble than they’re worth.”

Unfortunately for him, those words are the exact summoning spell for the demon that lives inside Lia.

“Oh I’m going to love this,” she says with a bite. “Say more, Elliot. What exactly is wrong with these women?”

“Lia…” I warn.

“It’s not about these women in particular,” he explains. “I just don’t really believe in dating hot girls.”

Now, look. I know what you’re thinking. That sounds really dickish. But he’s just not the best with words. He doesn’t mean that I’m not hot—really, I know that! But I still feel all of the blood rush to my face and sweat break out along the back of my neck. I’m so caught up in trying to control my physiological response to that stupid (but ultimately harmless) comment that I don’t even realize how many seconds of silence tick by before Andy spits out, “What did you just say?”

“Oh, come on guys,” Elliot says. “You know what I mean. Hot girls are always the worst.”

I want to stop time. Or better yet, rewind it two minutes. Maybe rewind it several hours and never have called NASA to go out tonight. It could’ve been just me and Elliot and this would be fine, because I get what he means. He’s not insulting me, he’s just… clumsy.

I don’t want to, but I have to. I look up at my friends’ faces. The men look incredulous, certainly not prepared to back Elliot up on this, and Lia looks like she’d gladly ruin her manicure for the pleasure of gauging his eyes out. Elliot doesn’t take the hint.