8 #2
She looks gorgeous, so I tell her as much.
“Thanks for getting here on time so I can actually say hi to you,” Lia says. “We’re expecting it to get crazy soon.”
“This isn’t crazy yet?” Andy murmurs.
“Where is yours?” I ask, scanning the art on the surrounding walls.
“Oh, it’s in the far corner.” Lia points behind the bar. “I’m actually supposed to stay by my work, but when Nolan gets here come find me.”
“Of course.” I squeeze her arm before she dashes away through the crowd, then I take a second to survey the room.
The overall vibe is Sexy Hippie Artist. To my left, a woman with long pink braids is talking to a tall man with a mustache and insect tattoos crawling up his arms.
To my right, a woman with a shaved head and cat eye makeup is flirting with a veritable Clark Kent.
I lean sideways towards Andy and whisper, “Maybe this is Nolan’s chance to finally meet someone in person. Everyone here is super hot.”
“You think Nolan can pick up someone here but you and I can’t?” he jokes.
“Oh, speaking of, did I tell you I made a date for next weekend with that app guy?”
“Already?” He pulls back in surprise. “You don’t want to, I don’t know, get to know him first?”
“I’ll get to know him on the date. That’s like, the whole point of a first date.” I quirk an eyebrow, daring him to contradict me.
“Well then,” he says, shifting his gaze out to the room, “with you off the market and Nolan being Nolan, it looks like I’ll have my pick of the lot.”
“Stop!” I laugh, swatting his arm. “Nolan is objectively a catch. He’s just… really bad with women?”
We’re both laughing at the truth of it when a beefy hand clasps over each of our shoulders.
“Hey friends!” Nolan exclaims, poking his head between ours. “Whatcha talking about?”
We exchange a guilty, wide-eyed look before I say “Nothing, nothing—hey you” and grab him around the middle in a hug. “Want to go over and see Lia’s stuff? She’s in the back corner. Andy’s brother might stop by too but we’re not sure if he’ll have time.”
“Oh,” Nolan says, realizing that Owen’s possible presence is a big deal. And of course he does—it’s downright weird that he’s never met his best friend’s brother before. “Do you want to hang by the entrance for a bit in case he makes it?”
“Nah,” Andy says. “I wouldn’t wait around.”
Andy’s back is to the door, so I’m the first one to see Owen come in.
There’s certainly a family resemblance between him and Andy, but no one would ever confuse the two.
Andy’s about an inch taller and noticeably leaner.
They have the same shade of dark brown, wavy hair, but Andy wears his longer.
Andy is also clean-shaven, where Owen has a neatly maintained beard.
But ultimately, their eyes are the biggest difference: Andy’s are a rich chocolate brown, while Owen’s are an almost uncanny light blue.
I take and squeeze Andy’s hand once to remind him of our plan before I stand on my tiptoes and wave. “Owen!”
He notices me and starts heading over. He’s a little overdressed, in gray slacks and a white button down, but who cares. He came, and I couldn’t be happier for Andy. Even having met him only once before, I can’t resist pulling him into a hug the second he reaches our circle.
“Hey Owen, it’s so good to see you.”
“Great to see you too, Sophie.” He releases me and extends a hand towards Nolan. “Hi, I’m Owen, Andy’s brother.”
Nolan takes Owen’s hand in both of his, shaking enthusiastically. “It’s great to finally meet you, man. I’m Nolan. I can’t believe it’s taken this long.”
Owen and Andy look at each other then. I can almost hear them mentally weighing the pros and cons of a hug versus a handshake. Eventually they settle for the most awkward choice imaginable as Owen offers a small wave from across the circle.
“Hey, thanks for inviting me. I’ve heard of this place but never made it up here.”
“Yeah,” Andy says with a nod. “No problem.”
“How are you?” Owen asks cautiously, like Andy’s a scared kitten he just found on the side of the road. It’s the wrong approach.
“I’m good. How are you?”
“Good. Good. How’s work?”
“It’s good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
My heart sinks watching Andy retreat into himself. Sometimes I just want to shake him and tell him to say more, say anything, try harder! But I know that’s not fair, because he’s nothing if not trying. Still—it is literally, physically painful to watch.
I love the full version of Andy so much.
The version that’s silly and pedantic and set in his ways and comfortable with silence, the version that snarks and scolds and listens closely to every word you say.
I hate seeing him protectively offer up only a tiny sliver of himself to the rest of the world, like it’s the only part he thinks other people can’t hurt.
I wish I could tell him that the full him—the real him—is the most likable and lovable person I’ve ever met, and that anyone who thinks otherwise can roll over and die.
But at the same time, if I’m being honest, there is a tiny part of me that feels special, knowing not everyone has a chance to experience him the way I do.
I wonder about that sometimes—whether it might really be just me.
He’s had a lot of girlfriends over the years.
Did they get to see every facet of him? Did Carly ever see him belly laugh over the misuse of the word “nonplussed”?
Did Steph notice he always has to try out a recipe twice in private before he’ll make it for anyone else?
Did he dismiss Nour’s insecurities with a look so earnest and piercing that it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them?
Maybe.
Or maybe they only saw glimpses of that Andy, my Andy.
In the most secret and unfair part of my heart, I hope they didn’t. I hope his full self is only for me.
“Been working on any projects lately that I should check out?” Owen asks, trying to mask the discomfort written all over his face.
“The last couple books have been thrillers,” Andy replies.
“Oh, yeah, cool. I could read a thriller.”
“Okay.”
“You should send me the title.”
“Sure.”
Then the silence starts to stretch.
And that’s all folks. That’s well above the quota of social discomfort I can handle here in the ninth circle of small talk hell.
I place a hand on Andy’s arm and say to his brother, “Thanks for making it all the way out here. I know it’s a trek from the Seaport. Is your office there too or do you just live there?”
Owen looks relieved at the interjection, and I briefly hate him for it. He doesn’t get Andy at all.
“Live and work,” Owen replies. “It’s pretty nice actually. Less than ten minutes walking door to door, and the building has a pool and a gym and everything. I’m pretty sure it even has something called a ‘pet spa’. And lots of bars nearby. It’s great.”
“That sounds incredible. I don’t know if you heard but Andy and I are actually living together now.” I loop my arm through the elbow of the roommate in question.
“You are?” He sounds genuinely surprised, and looks to his brother for confirmation. Andy nods, then looks down like the eye contact was painful.
“You just moved recently?” Owen asks, looking back at me. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going great, his place is beautiful. Or… I guess it’s our place now. Definitely better than anything I could afford on my own.”
“So it was a financial decision?”
“Kind of.” I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t want to get into the whole sob story, but trust me, Andy really saved me.” Then I wink at Andy, trying to pull him back into the conversation with a taunt about his savior complex.
Andy places his hand over mine and squeezes—our signal.
“You know,” I say, turning back to the group. “I saw a sign that said they’re giving out free samples of their IPA. I’d be happy to grab some for everyone. Nolan, will you come help me carry them?”
“Sure… Soph is there a reason you’re being weird?”
“What? Shhh!” I pull him towards the bar. “We’ll be back soon.”
I wave quickly over my shoulder then cross the room with Nolan in tow.
“Ow, loosen the grip, Soph.”
“Sorry.” I drop Nolan’s arm when we reach the bar and not a moment sooner. I wasn’t risking his complete bumbling of social cues until we were out of earshot. “I just didn’t want you to blow the plan. Andy and I made a signal for when he wanted to talk to Owen alone.”
“Is that what the lovey-dovey hand holding was about?”
I shove him sideways. “It was not lovey-dovey hand holding.”
“Sure looked like it to me.”
“Can you read lips?” I ask, ignoring his idiocy.
“Um… maybe? You want me to read theirs?” Nolan spins around—extremely conspicuously—to face Andy and Owen across the room.
“No, shh, stop!” I grab his shoulders and spin him back towards me. “You have to be cool about it, but I can’t see that far. My contacts prescription is old. Can you see what they’re saying?”
Nolan leans forward against the bar, much more subtle this time, and glances over his shoulder at the brothers. He puts his 20/20 vision to use with a slight squint. “Well, their mouths are definitely moving.”
“That’s not nothing,” I reply, then turn to the bartender and order four IPA samples.
“Andy looks pissed, though.”
“Shoot. Can you tell what he’s saying?”
He takes a moment to watch, then reports, “I think Andy just said ‘It’s not like that.’”
“That’s vague.”
“Oh my god.” Nolan grabs my elbow, then spins to look away from the boys and face me completely. “I think they’re talking about you.”
“What! How can you tell?”
“It looked like Owen said ‘She’s hot’ and then they both looked over here.”
“They looked over here?” I shriek. “Why are you still looking at them then?”
“I’m not! I’m looking at you.”
And sure, Nolan is facing me, but his posture is the exclamation point at the end of the sentence I love spying on people!
“God, can you act more natural? Here.” I take two of the beers from the bar and shove them into his hands. “Hold these.”
When I look up to his face, his eyes are full-moon wide. “Oh my god. You want them to be talking about you.”
“Pfft.” I wave my hand between us.
“You like Owen!”