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“You’re forgetting about the married part,” I reminded her. “Also, he’s gay. Marriedandgay. Not someone who would interest you at all.”
“He’s that great, huh?” She gave me a look that made my working nerves jangle again. She was only a few feet away from me on the sofa, and I could smell her scent. It was the same scent that was on my sheets and pillows at the moment. “Are you jealous of your brother, Andrew?”
I wasn’t. That was the truth. Even when I was whole, I’d never felt like I was in competition with Nick. I’d been too successful on my own, and besides, I was the older brother. It was Nick who looked up to me.
After the accident, our entire relationship had changed so completely that I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand it. Nick was my blood and my lifeline. He’d seen me through literally the darkest moments of my life, the moments when I didn’t want to live anymore. He was also the one who was still whole, the one who could go live the life I couldn’t. Jealousy was too simple a word for what I felt for my brother.
Still, looking at Tessa, I had never been so glad in my life that Nick was married. If he was single, she probably wouldn’t look at me.
“I will admit,” I said to Tessa, “that my brother is slightly good-looking. Not as good-looking as me, of course.”
“It isn’t possible for any guy to be as good-looking as you,” Tessa said, and once again I didn’t know if she was playing along with the joke or not.
“I’m glad you noticed,” I said, deciding to assume she was joking. “What happened with the casting call, by the way?”
She pulled out her phone and looked at it, scrolling through her messages. “I haven’t heard from them yet.”
“Does that mean no, or that they haven’t decided who to hire yet?”
“It could mean either one.” She shrugged. “Welcome to the modeling business. Ninety-nine percent of your time is spent in uncertainty. That’s the job.”
“They’d be crazy not to hire your boobs,” I said, since she’d complimented my comics. “I’m sure they were the best boobs there.”
“Thank you, Andrew. That’s very sweet.” She smiled at me.
A minute ago I’d been hot and awesome, and now I was sweet. How far into the friend zone was I? I had no idea, and it wasn’t even her fault. I kept myself in the friend zone, even though my working nerves really didn’t want to be there. I was truly fucked up.
She was so close. What would she do if I reached out and touched her?
I thought about it, and then I thought about what her face would look like when she rejected me. Sad and pitying? Or offended and angry?
So I didn’t do it.
We were friends. That was all.
FOURTEEN
Tessa
The barI’d gotten a job at was called Miller’s. It was in a strip mall next to a cluster of big-box stores, near a gym and, yes, the Cheesecake Factory. It seemed like a decent enough place—more of a family-friendly pub than a dive. There was brunch on Sundays and local musical acts—probably terrible—on Saturday nights. I got four shifts a week behind the bar to start, with the possibility for five. I wore jeans and a black T-shirt with the Miller’s logo on the breast. Tonight I was wiping the bar after pouring four beers and making a gin and tonic for the few customers that came to Miller’s at seven o’clock on a Thursday night.
I checked that the owner, Nathan, wasn’t in sight anywhere, and then I pulled my phone from my back pocket. I texted Andrew.
Tessa: I have a question.
Andrew: Here we go.
Tessa: Does anyone ever call you Andy?
There was a brief pause, and then he replied.
Andrew: Andy? Did you just ask me that?
Tessa: So the answer is no, then.
Andrew: The answer is unquestionably, unequivocally, unapologetically, absolutely fucking no.
The big words again. I loved it when he used the big words. I wished I had him on the phone, so he could say them in my ear. But I couldn’t exactly call him and ask him to talk dirty to me, so instead I texted him again.
