Chapter Eighteen
Brady
I can’t come over tonight.
Well, shit. What am I supposed to do with that? In Brady Land, that would be game over. Adios. Thanks for playing. I don’t pursue once the hookup has happened. If it’s not easy come, it’s easy go.
But this is Angela Pines we’re talking about. I can’t just let her go. I need her. She owes me. And goddamn it, I like her.
Fuck.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I pull out my phone, my ears burning with shame, and dial.
Siobhan’s teenage voice snaps across the line. “Whoever the hell this is, you better let my brother go and give him back his phone or I’m calling the police.”
“Hey, McNugget.”
A pause. “It’s really you? You’re calling me? On the phone ? Wait, hold up, I have to go tell Ma and Dad.”
“Quit it, Shiv.”
She laughs. “We miss you around here, Brady. Mom and Dad and Mikey do, at least.”
“Not my little sister, though, huh?”
“You know I do, dumbass,” she admits gruffly.
I should just get this over with now before I feel any more pathetic. “So, look, you’re a girl,” I begin, redness creeping up my neck.
“Ding, ding, ding! He’s not as dumb as he looks, folks.”
“Would you shut up? This is serious.” I take a breath. “There’s this girl.”
“And she’s already figured out what a loser you are? You’re toast. Can’t help ya.”
Okay, this is ridiculous. I hang up and run my fingers through my hair. I don’t know what I was thinking, calling my little sister for girl advice. She’s right. I’m a total dumbass.
My phone rings. Siobhan is calling me back. I sigh and answer.
“Not in the mood, Shiv.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she says, clearly trying to catch her breath from laughing so hard. “I promise I’ll stop. It’s just too fun to give you shit, Brady.”
“You did learn from the best.”
“That I did. So what’s with this girl, huh?”
“Okay,” I say, wondering how deeply I’m going to regret this.
“She’s shutting me down. Under normal circumstances, I would totally move on.
But—and I know this is going to sound delusional and egotistical, but it’s the God’s honest truth—I think she might actually like me.
She doesn’t hate me, at least. My question for you, little sis, is what do I do? Give her space, or go for it?”
“Hmm.” To her credit, she sounds like she’s thinking about it. “Did she hook up with your best friend or something? Or, more likely, did you hook up with hers?”
“Nah,” I say. “I wish it were that simple, but it’s complicated. It’s seriously messed up, in fact. She’s running from some bad family shit and doesn’t want me getting tangled up in it.”
Siobhan gasps. “She’s protecting you?” she squeals. “Oh my God, that’s adorable. I love her. Please tell me she’s also barely five feet tall and ninety pounds soaking wet.”
“No,” I say, suppressing a chuckle. “She’s tall and, uh…” What would be an appropriate way to describe Angie’s gorgeous physique to my little sister? “She works out.”
“She’s stacked, huh?”
“Siobhan.”
“Okay. She’s taking the high road here. You want her to take a very low road, I assume.”
“Siobhan.”
“I’m just picking up what you’re laying down, Brady. I say go get her. You’re a big boy, right? If she wants to be with you, and you want to be with her, her family shit can go to hell.”
“Yeah…”
“Hey, Brady.”
“Huh?”
“Is this like… I mean, is she like…a real-life, bring-her-home-to-us girl?” she says hesitantly.
“You sound like Ma.”
“Is she?”
I huff out a sigh. “She would have been, maybe,” I say. “But no. Things are too messed up. Even if I don’t let her go right away, I’ll have to let her go eventually.”
“That sucks.”
“What do you care?”
“I want a sister-in-law.”
I take my phone away from my ear and look at it like it was speaking Martian. “I’m sorry, what?” I say, putting the phone back to my ear.
“Dense much, Brady?”
“Batshit crazy much, Siobhan?”
“You just have serious commitment issues that I think you should work out. You’re a relationship dude stuck in a player’s body. It’s depressing.”
“Sorry to put you out, Shiv.”
“Oh my God, that’s freaking sick,” she says, already distracted by something else on her phone. “Look, I gotta go. My Instagram is blowing up. See you tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
I hang up with Siobhan, annoyed with myself and Angela in equal parts and still clueless about what to do.
I shove Angela out of my mind and read for the classes I’m going to miss while I’m in New York.
That holds my attention for a couple of hours, then I run to my gym and lift weights for a while before running back home and taking a shower.
It’s close to ten o’clock. I was supposed to be hooking up with Angie right about now.
I look at her stupid text again.
I can’t come over tonight.
I should just text back, No problem, see you when I get back , then hit up a couple of buddies and go get a beer. That’s what I should do. Unfortunately, it’s not what I want to do.
Wow, standing me up , I text her. Who’s the lucky guy?
I’m having a threesome with Chen and Finkelstein , she texts back, referencing the authors of our Property case book.
That’s some kinky shit right there, Pines. I’m a little jealous. Where are you entertaining the venerable Chen and Finkelstein?
They prefer the library.
I’ll bet they do. Be careful on that bike of yours, k?
Always am.
I put my phone down and sigh. This is uncharted territory. For once in my life, I’m afraid of blowing it with a girl.
My sister says to go for it. My gut says to go for it. I guess I should maybe just go for it.
I get in my car and drive to the law school. I park next to the bike rack and spot Angie’s pink beach cruiser right away. Well, that’s a good sign. At least she’s here.
The university campus is brightly lit, and there are still students walking around and sitting outside on benches and patches of grass. I use my key card to gain access to the law library. The bored undergrad working the desk barely glances at me as I walk through the sensors.
I walk around the first floor, feeling like a total loser idiot as I look for Angela.
She isn’t at her usual table. Maybe she went to get a coffee or a snack.
Maybe she’s making out with some other guy in the stacks.
Maybe she’s been kidnapped by… Oh, there she is.
Silver-and-purple head bent over a book, face mostly obscured by her open laptop, long legs stretched out under the table.
I try to get a handle on my rapidly beating heart.
I’m not sure how she’s going to react to this.
“Doing some filthy stuff with Chen and Finkelstein, I see.”
She startles and looks up at me, her mouth open like she wants to say something but isn’t sure what. I drop into the chair across from her and shut her laptop screen. “What’s up, princess?”
“What are you doing here?” she finally manages to say.
“Running into a burning building.”
She stares at me, then shakes her head. “I can’t let you do it, Brady,” she says softly. “It’s not gonna happen.”
“I’m not worth that level of concern, Pines,” I say.
She exhales and looks at the ceiling, shaking her head.
“I’m serious,” I say. “I’m a total piece of shit.”
“Right.”
What would convince her that she’s being ridiculous about this? “I’m twenty-five years old and I’ve never had a girlfriend. Do you know why?”
“Why?” she says, in a tone that clearly conveys she’s humoring me.
“Because all I want to do is get laid and move on. I don’t want attachments, relationships, or commitments. I don’t want to go on dates, talk on the phone, or cuddle up on the sofa to watch Netflix. I’m a total dog. A pig.”
She shakes her head again, but this time she’s looking at me instead of the ceiling. “You took me on a date, you idiot. Did you forget? It was yesterday.”
“I fell off the wagon. It won’t happen again. I swear.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“I promise we’re not a thing, okay?” I persist. “You don’t need to go MIA and avoid me and shit. I’m telling you, I’m not worth the effort.”
She stares at me. I realize that her face is pale and her eyes are red, like she’s been crying. Seeing her like that gives me another one of those punches to my gut.
“What’s wrong, Angela?”
She sighs and starts packing up her stuff. “Nothing,” she says quietly. “Let’s go.”
Something’s up, but I have a pretty strong feeling Angie won’t tell me unless and until she really wants to. I grab her backpack, and we head out. When we get to the garage, I put her bike in the back of my car.
“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” she asks as we pull out of the garage.
“Not since Patti Vanegas freshman year of high school, no,” I say. “Not one.”
“Why don’t you want dates and Netflix and commitments and all that?”
I shrug. “I don’t really know.” I have a theory, though, and it’s the same as Siobhan’s—I have commitment issues.
Maybe losing someone who was my whole world when I was a kid did it.
Who knows? For whatever reason, the relationship thing isn’t for me.
I have my family, and I get some action, and that’s all I need.
“It’s like I said, Pines. I’m just a dog. ”
“Whatever you say, Brady.” She sounds bored. Or maybe disappointed. I’m not good at reading girls.
“Maybe you should talk to someone about that,” she says after a minute. “You seem like you’d be a nice boyfriend if you could get your head out of your ass.”
“Thanks, Pines,” I say. “I’ll take that under advisement.” I’m going to see a shrink because I don’t want to settle down? I don’t think so. That’s a personal choice, not a disorder.
“I saw a therapist for a long time,” she says.
“What for?”
“Anxiety. Mild depression. My parents were into some bad shit.”
“You mean your foster parents?”
She hesitates, then seems to make a decision. “No. My real parents. They had money. I used my cash allowance to pay for therapy. They thought I was using it for clothes.”
“Did it work? The therapy, I mean.”