Page 85 of All Our Almosts

And you know what? Speaking of grad school, now seems like a great time to stress about my interview, too!

Tomorrow could go badly. Tomorrow could very easily go badly. I’m not great under pressure. I’m always a little nervous speaking to people in a formal setting. I feel like I ramble and go off topic and have a hard time presenting myself in a professional light. If tomorrow’s interview goes badly then that’s it—I’m shipping off to San Diego and Andy and I will just have a weird long-distance friendship where we know we went crazy one week and had a bunch of sex and then called it off. Yeah… we can’t go telling people that. We would sound like idiots. Horny, ridiculous idiots.

And speaking of horny, ridiculous idiots… What the heck was up with Owen tonight? Why does he adopt this weird casanova persona around women he’s interested in? He’s such a nice guy when he’s just being normal. I don’t get it. And Bella! The most ridiculous and horny of all the idiots! I try hard to think highly of all women I meet, but some people simply push the bounds.

I glance at Andy on my left, and he’s visibly tense. It’s been several minutes since we’ve said anything. Something about that Owen interaction set us back, and it feels like the ice needs to be re-broken. I take a swing.

“So I have to ask…”

Andy flinches at the sudden sound of my voice, then tries to cover it by clearing his throat. “Yeah?”

What did I do? Why is he so tense? Unsure how to fix it, I proceed with my stupid joke.

“Do you think Bella was born before or after the Twilight books came out?”

Andy lets out a small bark of laughter. (Thank God.)

“I know. When they walked up all I could think about was whether she’s legally old enough to date my brother.”

“Price is Right rules to guess her age? I’m going 19 and 10 months.”

“I’ll give Owen the benefit of the doubt with a solid 21.”

“That’s generous of you.” I shake my head. “God, Owen, what are you doing? He really is an enigma isn’t he.”

“I never know what to do with him,” Andy says. “One minute he’s an obnoxious asshole and the next he’s a nice guy who wants to be best friends.”

“Well either way, I certainly don’t think Bella Swan of Forks, Washington brings out the best in him.”

We lapse into silence again as we step onto the footbridge, crossing over the Charles River from Cambridge into Boston proper. My mind cycles through the unhelpful thoughts, snagging on the same ones over and over: What are we? What are we doing? What does he want? What can I do to not mess this up?

“Hey, where are you right now?”

His words bring me back. “Sorry. I’m here.”

Andy takes a guess at my thoughts. “How are you feeling about the interview?”

I exhale. “Well, nervous.” We crest the top of the bridge, and I pause to lean against the stone wall. Andy leans next to me. Lights from the downtown high rises flicker across the dark water.

“They didn’t tell me much about what to expect, just the time and place. I guess it can look pretty different depending on the department and the research you want to do, so I’ve been trying to prepare but I still feel like I’m going in blind.”

Andy moves behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head. I lean back into him.

“I just want it to go well. I want it so much. I don’t want to have to move across the country and leave my whole life here.”

“I would come with you.”

I spin around to face him.

“What?”

“I’ll move. I’ll come with you. If you want.”

And I’m at a loss for words, almost unable to understand. I meet the eyes of my best friend—my obstinate, regimented best friend—as he offers to uproot his entire life for me, and I don’t know how to react.

“Wow… really?”

“Of course,” he says, like it’s that simple.