Luca’s advice sucks
Luca's advice sucks
LEO
"—and THEN he ordered the same appetizer his ex used to like, which he told me about, as if I'm supposed to have opinions on Glenn's taste in calamari—"
I look up from my book. Max is standing in the living room doorway, phone in one hand, keys in the other, mid-rant. Hasn't even taken his jacket off yet.
"Hang on." He notices me. "JP, Leo's awake. I'll tell you later."
He hangs up, drops onto the couch beside me, and doesn't miss a beat. "Adam. The guy from last night. Terrible. Absolutely terrible. Adam spent the entire night talking about his ex-boyfriend. His ex-boyfriend, Leo. For two hours."
"Oh." I should feel sympathetic. I do feel sympathetic. "That's… rough."
"Rough?" Max's voice goes up an octave. "He showed me photos. On his phone. Just scrolling through their trip to Hawaii like I'm supposed to, what, offer commentary? Say 'oh wow, he looks great in a lei'?"
I bite the inside of my cheek. "Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Say he looked great in a lei."
Max glares at me. "I said the sunset looked nice and tried to change the subject. Which lasted approximately forty-five seconds before we were back to 'Glenn used to love this restaurant' and 'Glenn always ordered the calamari.'"
"Calamari's good."
"It's not about the calamari, Leo, and besides, studies have found that octopi have intelligence comparable to a human toddler around 3 to 4 years old. I'm not eating a smart toddler."
"Right. Sorry."
Max runs both hands through his hair, making it stick up in about seventeen directions. "I don't understand. Is this normal? Do people do this? Spend an entire first date talking about someone else?"
"Probably not normal, no."
"Then why does it keep happening?" He flops back against the couch cushions, dramatic. "This is the third guy in two weeks. Third! You'd think the probability of finding someone who's actually emotionally available would be higher than thirty-three percent."
My shoulders drop. The anxious pressure in my chest eases. Wait. That's wrong. That's a terrible thing to feel. I want Max to be happy. Of course, I want Max to be happy. So why does some part of me feel pleased that Adam-with-the-ex-boyfriend didn't work out?
"Maybe you just need a break," I say, trying to sound reasonable. "From dating. For a bit."
Max tilts his head to look at me. "You think?"
"Yeah. Let the universe recalibrate or whatever."
"The universe doesn't recalibrate; that's not how physics works." But he sighs and closes his eyes. "Maybe you're right. I'm clearly doing something wrong."
"You're not doing anything wrong."
"Then why isn't it working?" His voice goes quieter. "I just… I want what Luca and Seb have found, you know? That thing where you just get each other. Where it's easy."
My relief curdles into guilt. "You'll find it," I say, and he makes a sound that isn't quite agreement. After a moment, he pushes himself up off the couch.
"I'm gonna go work on Edgar 3.0. Mechanical failures I can fix. Dating, apparently not so much." Watching him trudge toward his room, shoulders slumped, the guilt settles in properly. I want this for him. I do. I want him to find someone and be happy with one of these guys.
So what is going on with me? I give my head a shake and get up. I need to talk to someone. I head down the hallway and knock on Luca's door.
"Come in." He's at his desk, textbook open, laptop glowing, the academic poster child in his natural habitat. His room is always like this, organized, efficient, everything in its place. The complete opposite of Max's creative chaos.
"Hey." I lean against the doorframe. "Got a minute?"
"Sure." He glances up and pushes his glasses up his nose. "What's up?"
"Is Del officially moving in yet?"
The corner of Luca's mouth twitches up. "We spend some nights apart."
"But you wish he was coming back here tonight, don't you?"
The smile wins. "He's at a swim meet in Laguna Beach and won't be back till late, so he's staying at his dorm."
I drop into the chair by his bed. "Have you thought about asking him? To move in officially?"
"We've only been dating a few months." Luca's fingers tap against his textbook, a nervous tell. "And the house is working right now. I don't want to mess up the dynamic."
"Sebastian used to live here," I point out. "It worked fine. Del wouldn't even be taking up a full room. Though since your room doesn't have a bathroom, we'll have to put up with him taking shower time." I grin. "All that chlorine smell could get overpowering—"
"Leo." The edge in his voice makes me look up. Luca's expression has shifted, something uncertain in it.
"Hey." I sit up straighter. "I'm teasing. The guys would love to have Del move in. You know that, right?"
"Really?"
"Really. Talk to everyone soon if you want to. But yeah. Really." His shoulders drop a little, the tension going out of them. "Okay," he says. "I'll think about it."
"Good.” I should leave now. Mission accomplished, Luca reassured. Everything’s fine, except I don't leave. My fingers start tapping against the arm of the chair. I came in here to ask Luca something, but I can't quite articulate it yet.
Luca notices. Of course, he does. "That's not why you came in here, is it?"
"What?"
"To ask about Del moving in." He's watching me now, that careful, analytical way he has. "What's actually going on?"
"Nothing. It's… nothing."
He gets up. Crosses the room. Closes the door. "You can talk to me about anything," he says as the lock clicks.
I stare at the closed door, then back at Luca. "Max had another bad date," I finally say.
"I heard him come in."
"It's like, they keep not working. None of them. And I don't understand why." The words are coming faster now, tumbling out. "Max is amazing. He's funny and smart and creative, and he cares so much about everything. Why can't these guys see that?"
"Maybe they do see it."
"Then why doesn't it work?"
Luca sits back down at his desk. Looks at me for a long moment. "Max's perfect man is proving hard to pin down."
"Yeah."
"You're his best friend. What do you think he's looking for?"
I lean back, thinking. "Someone smart. Someone who gets his humor. Someone who doesn't mind when he gets distracted and forgets to finish sentences, or when he knocks things over, or when he spends three hours at two AM building robots."
"Uh, huh."
"Someone patient. Someone who understands that his brain works differently and that's not a bad thing, it's just…
Max." I'm gesturing now, can't help it. "Someone who thinks his robot socks are cute instead of weird.
Someone who brings him the drinks he actually likes instead of assuming he wants coffee.
Someone who doesn't make him feel like he has to be less... Max."
Luca's still watching me. That expression on his face makes me squirm.
He's my friend. The thought arrives before I can stop it, defensive and automatic. Of course, I care about him. Of course, I want things to work out. And yeah, maybe it bothers me a little, the dates, but that’s…
that's just because he's my friend. That's what you feel when your friend keeps getting hurt. That's normal.
"What?"
"Do you think," he says slowly, "that maybe Max hasn't found his perfect guy because you're holding him back?"
The words hit me like cold water to the face. "What?" I sit up straight. "No. I've been supportive! I've encouraged him to date, I helped him practice looking for hints when a guy is interested, I give him advice—"
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean?"
Luca sets his textbook aside. Gives me his full attention. "You two do everything together. Movie nights, cafe runs, and inside jokes. You finish each other's sentences, Leo."
"So? We're best friends."
"You sleep in the same bed sometimes, for crying out loud."
My mouth opens. Closes. "That's… we fall asleep during movie marathons or one of us needs to snuggle, it's not—"
"How is any date supposed to compete with that?" Luca's voice is gentle but relentless. "These guys meet Max and hear all about his best friend. Who's already filling the boyfriend role. What's left for them?"
I can't think properly. "That's not… we're not… "
"You have your spots at Beans & Books. Your late-night conversations. Your routines." Luca leans forward. "Max comes to you first with everything. Good news, bad news, random thoughts at three AM. You're the person he wants to share things with."
"Because we're friends."
"Are you?"
"Yes!"
"Just friends?"
My heart stutters, then races. "What else would we be?"
Luca tilts his head. Studies me like I'm a problem he's trying to solve. "Why don't you date Max?"
I'm on my feet before I consciously decide to stand. "What? No. Luca, that's… Max is my best friend. We can't date. That would ruin everything."
"Would it?"
"Yes! Obviously!" I'm pacing now, small circles in the limited floor space. "Our friendship works. It works really well. Why would we risk that? For what? Dating is complicated and messy, and it could all fall apart, and then what? We lose everything?"
"Leo—"
"And Max has never been interested in me that way. He wants to date. He's actively trying to date other people. This whole conversation is crazy."
"Is it?"
"Yes!" I turn to face him. "You don't understand. What Max and I have… It's important. It's the most important friendship I've ever had. I can't lose that."
"You won't lose it."
"You don't know that. Dating changes things. Look at you and Del, you're different now. In a good way! But different. And if Max and I tried that and it didn't work—" My voice cracks. "I can't lose him, Luca."
Luca stands. Crosses to me. Puts a hand on my shoulder. "Okay," he says quietly. "Okay."
I take a breath. Then another. Try to calm down. "Sorry. I just… the idea of messing up what we have—"
"I get it."
"Good. Because it's not happening."
"Okay." I head for the door. Hand on the knob. Safe. I can leave now, forget this conversation ever happened.
"Leo." I stop but don't turn around.
"Can I ask you one more question?"
My fingers tighten on the doorknob. "Sure."
"Are you interested in Max?"
The room goes very, very quiet. My mouth opens. Nothing comes out. My brain has completely blue-screened. No thoughts. No percentages. No calculations. Just white noise and the sound of my own heartbeat, too loud in my ears.
"I—" The word sticks in my throat. Luca's still behind me. Waiting. "I don't—" Still stuck. Turning around, I see Luca's expression is patient. Kind. And somehow that makes it worse.
"That's not… we're friends. Best friends. I just said—"
"That's not what I asked."
My hands are shaking. Why are my hands shaking? The question is in my head before I can stop it. "You asked if I'm interested in Max."
"Yes."
"As in romantically interested."
"Yes."
"That's…" That's the wrong question. "I mean, Max is... he's Max. Of course I—" Of course I notice when he walks into a room. "But that doesn't mean—" Doesn't mean anything. "I care about him. Obviously. But not like—" I can't finish a single sentence.
Luca's watching me fall apart. "I have to go," I say abruptly.
"Leo—"
"Thanks for the talk. About Del. Moving in. That's good. You should do that."
"Leo." I open the door.
"I'm not interested in Max," I say to the hallway. To myself. To no one. I wait for it to feel true, but it doesn't. I don't look back to see Luca's expression.
Luca's advice sucks.