Chapter 6 #2
From the lime green streamers (literally, my least favorite color) to the strawberry cake (I’m allergic) with cream cheese frosting (which I abhor).
Even the drinks were relegated to Pepsi and Diet Pepsi, when I’m a Dr. Pepper girl, as all Texans should be.
Did I mention they had a robot put on the cake? Yep.
Well played, everyone. Well played.
Needless to say, the rest of the office seemed to enjoy my birthday very much.
Then there was the Gavin issue. How do you look your boss in the face when you sent flirty texts the night before and have plans for the coming evening?
You don’t .
That’s what I figured out. Whether it was his shiny black shoes, his strong hands, or his broad shoulders, I became familiar with a lot of Gavin as I tried to avoid his eyes.
Which makes me look super mature. Totally ready to date an older guy.
He stopped by my desk first thing that morning, murmuring, “happy birthday,” in a way that made the little hairs stand up on my arms. I could sense his smile when I pinned my gaze on his shoulders.
It felt like he was checking in, making sure I knew that things were different now.
Setting the tone, which was still office professional, but with a very potent undercurrent of something else.
The air between us felt electrified with tension, part attraction and part awkwardness.
“Looking forward to tonight,” he’d said in an even lower, even sexier voice, before rapping his knuckles twice on Nancy’s desk, which I was using while she was out.
Gavin left the door open again today, keeping him in my immediate line of sight.
And considering I couldn’t look him in the face, this made things pretty awkward.
I could feel his gaze on me, like the heat of a thousand suns.
By the time I step out of the building and into the shock of Austin in almost-summer, my neck has a crick from trying to avoid looking at Gavin.
I practically fall into the booth across from Abby with a groan. She’s texting, probably my brother based on the look of utter delight on her face. At least, until she looks up and sees me. I must look awful, because she slips her phone into her bag and leans across the table.
“Did you finally quit? Did it go horribly? Gavin didn’t try to throw you on his desk and kiss you?”
I cover my face with my hands. “Abby! I don’t need the visual.”
“I think it makes a great visual. I mean, not that I’ve seen Gavin. But from what you’ve said, the two of you together would be hot. What do you want to eat? My treat.”
“I can’t eat right now.”
“You can’t eat? Okay. What’s up, birthday girl? Why so glum?”
I peek at her through two fingers. “I invited Gavin to come tonight.”
“You WHAT?!” If her shout weren’t enough to get all eyes in the small café on us, Abby slaps her hands on the scarred wooden table. A woman wearing tons of crystal accessories and a dress that looks like it’s hand-sewn from hemp frowns over at us.
“Keep it down!” My cheeks flame.
“We don’t know these people. Who cares. Let them look. I’m your best friend and I need details! How did this happen? And, oh my gosh! I get to meet Gavin!” She practically squeals this last part and claps her hands.
“That may depend on your ability to keep it down ,” I practically growl, still feeling the eyes of other patrons on us. Hemp dress woman shakes her head and rubs one of her crystals like that’s going to lower Abby’s volume. I hope it works.
“Fine,” Abby whisper-shouts, tossing her turquoise-tipped hair over her shoulder. “I’ll stay quiet if you spill.”
I open and close my mouth, trying to figure out how to summarize, then just slide my phone across the table.
It’s already open to the text conversation between me and Gavin, which I read yet again while walking here.
I watch Abby’s face as she reads, her expression televising every thought she has.
When she’s done, her smile is as wide as I’ve ever seen it.
“So? Why the freakout? It’s clear the man is into you. Are you overthinking again?”
“Maybe. It’s kind of what I do.”
Because I keep such a tight lid on my feelings and words, it’s like my brain makes up for it with an overactive thought life. Otherwise, I might explode.
“Well, stop. Or,” she says, seeing my irritation at her oversimplified advice, “you could talk it out with your bestie. Lay it on me.”
I sigh. “He’s my boss. He’s older. Like, almost twenty years older. I invited him tonight without thinking it through. He’s going to meet Zane . Who won’t be nice.”
“I’ll keep him on a short leash.”
I snort. Not likely. Though if anyone could, it would be Abby. She has my twin wrapped around her pinky finger and tied into a little bow.
“Plus, aren’t you handing in your resignation today? He won’t be your boss for long.”
“I couldn’t! Not when I have to face him tonight. I gave my deadline an extension. I’ll do it tomorrow.”
I expect Abby to argue, but she only nods. “Makes sense. Permission to speak freely, sir?”
I wince, because I never know what Abby will say, only that she doesn’t hold back. “Granted.”
“You’ve got to let go. I know that I didn’t know you before your mom died. But I have talked a lot with Zane about losing her.”
“You have?” It makes sense that they would talk about Mom. I mean, the two of them went from zero to serious pretty quickly. But still. The tiniest thread of jealousy weaves through me that he talked to Abby, not me. Zane and I almost never bring up the M word together.
“Not a lot. But some. And from what he tells me, I think you both closed off a lot after she died. He says you all got more serious. Too serious, maybe?”
You can’t lose your mom and not change. At any age. But especially when you lose her in high school. Even Dad changed.
The three of us got quieter. More serious, like Abby said.
Dad stopped smiling, cutting back from a dozen smiles a year to maybe two.
Zane and I focused on grades. I added track into that, beating all my own records senior year.
Running was one of the only times I felt sort of lighter, maybe because of the endorphins?
Honor roll stopped being enough. I became a straight-A student, taking extra courses for college credit.
I only loosened up the tiniest bit in college, mostly due to Abby and our other friends.
I allowed her and the girls to convince me to go out one night a weekend, rather than spending both doing homework. My drive now is still just as intense.
I’m sure it’s the reason none of my relationships worked out. More than one guy I dated said roundabout things that all sort of pointed to me being too intense. It’s probably why my office mates made me a cake with a robot on it.
“I can’t be you,” I say, feeling the sting of tears I wish I could shove back behind my eyes. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not intense. Serious. Like it or not, this is me.”
“I’m not asking you to be someone else. Definitely not me. I’m a hot mess. I’d never do that, and neither should anyone else. I’m just saying that maybe you could hold things a little bit more loosely. Maybe ease up on the control a bit without losing yourself?”
Abby isn’t wrong, and that’s what scares me most of all. Because I don’t know how to do what she’s asking, even if I know in my gut that she’s right.
“What if I can’t do this?” I whisper, tracing over the table, where someone has carved a drawing of an alien.
“Do what?”
I shake my head, unsure how to even articulate the pit of panic forming in my stomach. “I don’t know.”
Abby sighs, and leans across the table to take my hand. “Look. Falling in love is scary.”
My eyes widen and I’m already shaking my head. “I’m not in love with him.”
“Semantics,” Abby says. “Falling—in like, in love, or whatever you want to call it—is scary. It’s a risk. And it requires opening up. If you don’t open up, no one can come in. You had to do that for me. Remember?”
I smile, thinking back to freshman year of college. “You were like a battering ram. Relentless.”
“Thank you. But maybe you could make it a little … easier.”
“If Gavin isn’t willing to do the work to push past my walls, maybe he’s not worth it,” I say, sounding a bit petulant even to my own ears.
“Point taken. A guy should be willing to cross moats and climb walls and go on quests. But, at the end, the prize is you . I think that terrifies you. I can see why it does. You think I wasn’t scared about dating Zane?
I was. Sometimes, I still am. I don’t know if Gavin is the right guy for you.
But isn’t it worth the risk to find out? ”
Is it, though?
This is the one question I wish I could answer ahead of time. And yet, I get the feeling there is no way to know without taking that first step out into nothing, hoping to find a pair of solid arms ready and willing and strong enough to catch me.