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Nate focused on Alex, who busied himself with arranging crackers on a platter.
As other book clubbers arrived, the awkwardness deepened, and the distance between Alex and Julian grew wider. Watching from the edge of the living room, Travis lounged on the sofa. A sneer twisted his features before he turned away. Alex gripped the cool glass of the wine stem Julian had placed in his hand, willing it to morph into a frosty bottle of beer.
“Shall we begin, clubbers?” The question silenced the wine-sipping and side conversations.
Alex sat off to the side on a chair with an overstuffed seat cushion and ornately sculpted arms that dug into his flesh.
As Julian launched passionately into literary analysis, his face lit up with conviction as he gestured enthusiastically. Here was someone who had found his purpose, his gift for imparting knowledge and meaning to the world around him.
Suddenly, Alex felt silly for thinking he could unlock that kind of passion in Julian. No, when this was over, he would come clean. Then it would all be over.
“Don’t you think Austen is making a broader social commentary on women’s dependence on marriage for status and security?” Julian posed to the group.
“I’d argue she’s exposing the failings of a system that commodifies women as property under the guise of marriage,” Travis asserted arrogantly. A few guests murmured in agreement.
“True, though she also shows how some manage to subvert expectations, like Elizabeth,” another woman countered.
As the conversations volleyed around him, Alex picked at his jeans, lost. He’d skimmed a summary online, but concepts likepatriarchal hegemonyandprotofeministmade his head hurt. Nate watched him curiously from an armchair. Alex fidgeted, the weight of unspoken judgments making him realize his uniqueness in the room.
What was I thinking coming here?
“What do you think, Alex?” Julian winced. “I mean, Mr. Bennett. I’d love to hear your perspective on this theme. The group appreciates an outsider’s viewpoint.” Wincing again, he shook his head. “I mean, people with different backgrounds than us literature snobs.”
The room filled with polite chuckles, but the collective attention remained undistractedly on Alex, who hoped the dim lighting concealed the blush creeping up his neck.
“Well, uh…” Suddenly, a gulp of wine sounded good to Alex. “I suppose with love, societal barriers only hold you back if you let them…?” His voice rose at the end, turning his statement into a question.Dummy.
A few guests murmured in approval.
“How profound,” Travis said, ignoring the warning glance Julian shot his way.
“What I mean is…” Alex swallowed, his mouth dry. “In programming, you construct algorithms to achieve a goal, right? But sometimes you have to break constraints and think outside the system to find the optimal solution.”
Maybe he’d found his mojo. Julian beamed, but everyone else just looked confused.Why did I even try? I don’t belong here.
“Well, I believe that’s a good place to wrap up.” As he stood, Julian slapped his hands against his pants, regaining focus. “There’s plenty of food, so fill your plates and continue our discussion.” He winked at Alex and retreated to the kitchen.
Alex clung to his chair as guests mingled and refilled their wine.
“Quite the sophisticated crowd.” Nate came from behind and held out a beer. “Here, you look like you could use this.”
Alex accepted the beer gratefully and twisted the top. “Is it that obvious I feel out of place?”
“Their loss for not seeing your potential.” He patted Alex’s shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. Half these people have their heads shoved so far up their own”—he glanced around—“posteriors, they wouldn’t recognize a fresh insight if it slapped them around. Most of them would probably enjoy that, anyway.”
Alex nearly choked on his sip of beer.
“Julian seemed impressed.” Nate sucked air through his teeth, turning his attention to the kitchen. “You’ve got a lot of life ahead of you, Alex. Remember that.” He toasted his beer bottle before joining his colleagues.
The warmth of Alex’s smile cooled as Travis made his approach
“Well, if it isn’t our resident computer geek,” he said. “It’s adorable how you try, and fail, to keep up with the other intellectuals.”
Clutching his beer bottle, Alex took another sip to trap in the string of profanities he wanted to hurl. Unfortunately, beer wasn’t going to keep him quiet tonight.
“You know, Travis, I almost feel sorry for you,” he said, matching his glare. “You act so superior, but deep down, you’re desperate for validation. Just like the rest of us.”
“What would you know about validation?” Travis said. “You’re nothing but a dyslexic charity case, clinging to your literary sugar daddy for emotional support.”
