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Ellie reappears a minute later, with a drink for the customer, and another one for me, since I’ve somehow slogged down the whole thing without realizing it. She sits in front of me and says, “Whew. It was a busy one tonight.”
Okay. We’re not on the subject of Brooks. And we don’t need to be. I should just ask her how she likes the job and what her classes are about.
But instead, the second my mouth opens, it slips out. “How is Brooks?”
Instantly, I hate myself for asking. I’m trying to be casual, to not look like I’m waiting with bated breath for the answer.
She sure takes her time. Then she shrugs. “No idea.”
That’s not the answer I was looking for. I blurt, “What do you mean?” desperate to sate my curiosity. Does she not know how he is because he’s already in Chicago?
“Oh, you know Brooks. Tries to be the big strong man. Doesn’t like anyone to see him sweat. Internalizes everything.”
“Is something wrong? I thought he was going to Chicago?”
She shakes her head. “I told him he should. But he refuses. He said he’s looking for something here.”
My heart does a little dance, knowing he’s still nearby. As much as I wanted him to take that Chicago job, I’m glad he’s still here. That’s selfish of me. “I think he’s going to regret that. It was a perfect job for him.”
Ellie smiles. “No, it’s not.”
She gives me a meaningful look, which I don’t understand. “What do you mean? It was a partnership. Did he tell you that? The pay was incredible, and--”
“Yes. But it wasn’t near you,” she says.
I stare, speechless.
She puts a hand on mine. “Girl, I know my brother better than anyone. And I’ve never seen him so smitten by a woman before.”
“Oh,” I say, my face heating. “No. I’m not the reason he’s not going to Chicago. I can’t be. You—"
“Okay. So maybe it a bunch of things. But you’re the biggest. I told him he’s a great guy, but you probably want someone a little more boring. More stable. Not his crazy ass. But I still think he’s holding out that you’ll change your mind and want to be with him. Show up at his door, tell him you’ll go anywhere with him.”
I imagine myself doing that. My entire body aches to do that. But it’s not possible. “No. I can’t do that. He needs to go to Chicago. That’s his future.”
“How do you know that? Do you have a crystal ball?”
“We’re too different,” I declare with a nod, though I don’t sound nearly as sure of myself as I wanted to be. “It won’t work.”
She shakes her head. “I think that’s the problem. There are so many relationships that have ended badly, that people are too quick to think that theirs will end up part of that statistic. But it doesn’t have to. Sometimes, you just have to close your eyes, and jump.” She leans in. “Do you love him?”
I don’t even have to think. I nod.
Yes, I do. I love him. We may be totally different, but we complement each other in so many ways. All the ways that count.
“Then go get him,” she says, checking her phone. “He’s probably still awake right now, you know.”
I imagine myself going there, telling him that I’ve made a mistake and I’d go anywhere with him. But this isn’t a romance movie. This is real life. And if we do that, if we selfishly ignore everything and everyone else, we’re going to regret it.
“I can’t.” It comes out as soft as a breath.
She just stares at me. Then she says, “He said the same thing. You two are more alike than you know. Stubborn as hell.”
She gets up and leaves to help another customer, and when I look down at my pizza, I no longer have an appetite.
40
I haven’t lost hope yet.
It might be noon, and I might be sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal while typing one-handed into my laptop in my pajama bottoms. I might not have shaved in a week.
But I am still not giving up hope that I can find a job in this state.
I told my professor in Chicago that I needed a month to think it over. I figured that would be enough time to see whether I’ll sink or swim in this job market.
So far, it’s been mostly sinking. But I’m still fighting.
As soon as I hit “send” on another resume, the front door opens, and I hear Jace’s high-pitched voice.
“Brooksy! Brooksy! Brooksy!” he shouts, zooming into my arms. “Guess what?”
I notice he has blue-raspberry-colored lips, so I have a good idea. “You’re on a sugar high.”
Behind him, Ellie rolls her eyes and pulls her messenger bag over her head. “He begged me for a slushie.”
