10 Leti
Leti
I run into Julian in the mailroom of our apartment complex the next day.
He’s dressed casually in sweatpants, a loose T-shirt, and glasses.
He looks so rumpled and undone it melts my heart a little.
This is how he’d look spending a cozy day inside with someone.
He’d order takeout so we never had to leave the apartment, put on Netflix in the living room, and then spend the entire time cracking jokes over the movie.
We’d end the night making out on the couch, but not before I slid the glasses off his face and cast them aside somewhere to be found later.
Back up. When did someone turn into me? We already established why we don’t work. Twice.
“Morning, neighbor.” He nods, curly hair flopping over one lens. My throat works on a swallow the longer I stare at him. If I’m acting weird, he has enough grace not to comment on it. “How are you feeling after yesterday?”
“Better,” I say as I finally regain some sense. “If only because my new set of amiibos came in.” I wave the package I took out from my mail slot.
“Nice.” He flashes white teeth. “For which game?”
“Animal Crossing.” It’s been years since I played this game specifically, but lately I’ve been feeling nostalgic.
It’s the game that inspired me to make a Twitch account.
What started as something fun quickly turned into a monetized side gig that allowed me to move out of my parents’ house.
I could probably afford an apartment by myself, but online content doesn’t exactly guarantee a steady paycheck.
Between work and my less-than-stellar love life, video games have become the thing I look forward to the most every day.
Is it sad that as a twenty-six-year-old the only thing keeping me going is a video game?
Maybe, but it’s something I try to not dwell on.
“Cool,” he says. “More gaming, fewer shitty first dates.”
“I’ll toast to that.”
He holds up his stack of mail and taps my package with it.
I resist a laugh, biting back a cheesy smile.
It feels strange not to be at odds with Julian, even if it was only one-sided.
We may have had a moment of peace, but that doesn’t make us friends.
Acquaintances, maybe. If nothing else, I can be grateful I no longer feel the urge to duck and hide when I see him coming.
“You’ll have to teach me how to suss out the red flags one of these days. I’m one more bad date away from quitting dating for good. Again.”
“Oh yeah? What’s in it for me?” His mouth quirks up at the side as I roll my eyes at him. Then his eyes light up. “Actually, I have an even better idea.”
I’m not sure I like the way his brown eyes shine suddenly. Mischievously.
“What’s that face all about?” I point directly at it, and he feigns an innocent look that is somehow so much worse. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s taking my lighthearted suggestion a little too seriously.
He wraps a fist around my finger, lightly squeezing until I find it a tad harder to suck in a breath. “You should let me take over your dating accounts.”
“Right.” I laugh humorlessly, snatching my finger back.
“You know I wasn’t serious, right? Asking you to help me suss out the red flags was like asking an old high school acquaintance you run into at HEB to grab a coffee and catch up sometime.
We both know it’s never gonna happen, but we say it to make conversation. ”
“So this was you making small talk in the mailroom?” When I nod, he doesn’t look any less undeterred. “Come on. I think you’ll have a lot more fun on the apps if you have someone checking these people out alongside you.”
“You’re probably right,” I say, and he immediately brightens. “But that would mean actually hanging out with you, which isn’t something I’m all that eager to do again.”
He lets out a great, big howl of a laugh.
“Don’t be mean to me, Leticia.” His grin does something strange to my heart that I refuse to analyze too closely. “I think I like it too much.”
I roll my eyes and turn my face away from him, because for some godforsaken reason my cheeks feel hot. Blushing. I’m actually blushing. Who am I?
“I have references, if that’ll help.”
I clear my throat before turning back to him, composure back in place. “Such as?”
“I gave my cousin advice that prompted her reconciliation with her now girlfriend.”
“Your selling point is that you gave the girl I liked advice that made her get with someone else?”
“Okay, maybe that’s a bad example.” He grits his teeth. “I also told Andrew to go for it with Kayla. And look at them now! You’re his sister, you had to know how hopeless the guy was before my help.”
I’m not sure I’d describe Andrew as “hopeless.” If anything, that’s how my family would describe me.
Much like Julian, my brother has the fear-of-commitment thing down pat.
My parents have always believed that the right woman will help him outgrow it, and now that he’s with Kayla, they can’t spend thirty minutes in a room together without letting out an emphatic “I told you so.”
Me, on the other hand? If you asked my parents, they’d tell you I’m unfocused because I don’t have a steady partner to motivate me to get my life together.
It’s not enough that I’m no longer living under their roof, have a full-time job, and a streaming career on the side.
I’m older than Elena was when she got married and had her first kid, and therefore falling behind in comparison.
“Hopeless?”
“Oh yeah. You should’ve seen him try to strike up a conversation with Kayla before they got together.
It wasn’t pretty,” he says, then cringes as if reliving it.
“He looked like he was going to throw up the day he asked her out. If you see me flinch, it’s because I still haven’t fully recovered from the secondhand embarrassment. ”
“I would pay an obscene amount of money to witness that for myself.”
If my brother was really as bad as Julian’s making it seem, maybe he has a point. I clearly can’t trust myself when it comes to picking who I date, so how much worse could he be? Damn, how am I already considering this? I barely know the guy.
“But we’re practically strangers,” I remind him. “You don’t know me, so how could you possibly know who I’m compatible with?”
“I know you like sushi and Italian food. I know you’re a gamer who’s forced to work as a substitute teacher despite being a librarian.
You might bluff as a pessimistic pragmatist but really, you’re a romantic at heart.
” For a moment, all I can do is gawk at him.
Something about his pronouncement is making my heart beat abnormally fast. “I may have much to learn, but I’ve been paying attention. ”
So it would seem.
“This might be the strangest offer I’ve ever gotten.” Thankfully, my voice comes out steadier than I feel. “I mean, seriously, who does this?”
“That’s not a no.” His smile grows. “Think about it. Let me know.”
On Monday, I get back home from the shittiest day of work I’ve ever had.
A student not only fell asleep in my class, but when he woke up, he also had the audacity to take out a vape pen and hide the smoke by pulling his hoodie up over his mouth.
As I stood for a moment, horrified, watching as the entire class laughed when this kid nearly coughed up a lung, I realized something.
Nothing matters.
Not to this kid, who didn’t bat an eye when I sent him down to the front office.
Not to his friends, who laughed and cheered alongside him, who didn’t seem to care that he was about to be suspended, if not expelled.
Not even to his mom, who didn’t so much as react when I recounted the story to her in detail over the phone on my lunch break.
I didn’t yell at or lecture the kid for smoking in class.
It was as if all the energy had been sucked from my body, leaving me with nothing but the bare minimum.
Write him up, send him to the office, call his mom.
That’s as far as my job description goes.
I didn’t even bother asking my neighboring teacher if I could borrow their Febreze, so the scent of weed lingered for the rest of the day despite leaving my windows open to air out the stuffy portable, and all I could do was pray the kids in my next periods wouldn’t develop a secondhand high.
I could quit, but then I wouldn’t have a stable paycheck or healthcare. I’d have to move back in with my parents and deal with the judgment that comes with it. I can practically hear my mother’s voice already.
How long do you expect your father and I to keep bailing you out?
A roof over my head is hardly nothing, but I resent the thought that they’re the ones who bailed me out when I couldn’t find a job straight out of undergrad.
I built my streaming platforms from the ground up when I lived at home, but my parents criticized me for playing video games for seven hours a day instead of job searching.
I could’ve told them my inbox was full of rejections while my platforms were growing in viewership by the thousands each day, but in the end I waited until my accounts were eligible for monetization and I got my first sponsorship.
To say they were less than impressed would be an understatement, but it paid for my school librarian certification and helped me move in with Bella before I landed a part-time gig.
But the real detriment to my mental health has always been the double standards and constant comparisons to my siblings that they’ve never let me live down.
When I moved back home after graduation, I was a financial disappointment and physical burden taking up space in their house.
When Andrew took an extra year to graduate after failing too many classes and ultimately switching his major, he was simply taking his time as he figured out his future.
When I moved in with Bella, my parents worried my financial situation was too precarious to live on my own and that living with Bella’s daughter would hold me back from dating.
When my brother moved in with Julian, it’s because Andrew wasn’t ready to leave his glory days of college behind.
My brother’s reluctance to commit is something they’re sure he’ll outgrow any day now, but I’m practically a spinster at the ripe old age of twenty-six because I’ve never had a real relationship before.
God, what am I doing to myself? There’s only one way to make an already bad day worse, and that’s to start thinking about my parents.
It’s why I leave the family group chat as often as I do.
I’m only pulled out of my thoughts by the sight of Julian sitting outside our building, two iced coffees in hand.
“I was hoping I’d catch you.” He rises and hands me whatever’s in his right hand. A glance down at the label tells me it’s an Autumn Moon latte from my favorite coffee shop. “Heard about your day from Clarissa. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Well, at least it’s over.” I take a sip from the drink.
It’s delicious. I make a mental note to add it to my drink rotation before turning back to Julian.
He’s everywhere, but that’s not a surprise.
If I’m surprised about anything, it’s that we didn’t run into each other at school today.
Only this time, the sight of him relieves the heavy weight of dread on my chest. Odd, that.
Would it really be so bad to let him take over my dating accounts?
At least then I’d have someone to come home to after a shitty day of work.
Someone to get my parents off my back about at least one area of my life, even.
Just once, I’d love to not be seen as the hot mess child in their eyes.
If Julian can help me get there, I’m not about to turn him down.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” His tone is smug, like he already knows what I’m about to say before I have a chance to say it. Knowing him, and I’ll admit I barely do, he probably does.
“Please don’t make me say it out loud.” I cover my face with a hand.
I’m not sure what’s worse, admitting I need dating help or the fact that I’m coming to Julian of all people for it.
A hand closes around my wrist, gently, like I’m something fragile.
His skin is warm and dry, a thumb circling the vulnerable inside of my wrist. I feel the sensation in places I shouldn’t, and the urge to jerk away is almost palpable. But it also feels surprisingly…good.
“Fine.” I make a show of sighing, letting my hand fall away and breaking contact with his touch. “You can take over my dating accounts. As dubious as your help might be, it’s clear doing this on my own is getting me nowhere.”
I don’t know what it means that his blinding smile makes me delirious. Or if I do, I’m choosing not to examine why too closely. The man is like a living, breathing sun ray.
“Then we have a lot of work to do.”