Chapter 6 #2
“But I hate being a cliché!” Finally, she looks up at him, her eyes wide but thankfully not glassy.
“So we got there for the sleepover and Chloe’s parents ordered pizza, and everything was fine.
I could feel my allergies acting up but I hadn’t brought any medication with me, so Chloe told me to go ask her parents.
They were sitting in the kitchen, trying to stay out of our way and all, which was really nice of them.
And after they gave me some Benadryl, they started asking me about school, and about cooking, and they’re really cool, actually.
Mrs. Valencia is a sommelier, so she knows a lot about flavor profiles, and Mr. Valencia is a producer at an indie record label.
” She gives Nick a long-suffering look. “I can’t help it that Chloe’s parents are more interesting than she is. ”
He has to chew back a laugh, because on paper, it’s an amusing statement.
He also wonders if Audrey is the only thirteen-year-old who knows what a sommelier is.
Long ago he vowed to treat her problems as seriously as she did—because that was how they felt at that age, wasn’t it?
“So you spent most of the night hanging out with Chloe’s parents instead of with her. ”
Audrey takes another sip, nods. “And that’s where everyone found me a couple hours later. Chloe wasn’t being mean about it or anything, but some of the other girls were laughing. One of them started calling me Odd-rey.”
A sudden fury swells up in him. Odd-rey. As though there’s something inherently bad about being a bit unusual. When you’re thirteen, maybe there is.
“You’re an old soul,” he says. “There’s nothing wrong with that. But if Chloe invited you there to hang out with her, maybe she was also a little hurt that you wanted to spend time with other people?”
Audrey looks at him like this is the stupidest thing he’s ever said. “You don’t get it,” she says with a sniff. “You’re like, outgoing. I don’t know how to do that. I can’t just walk into a room and have everyone light up.”
Nick’s not sure she’s right about that, but this conversation isn’t about his own self-esteem. He’s always felt natural around people, though. Some professors teach just so they can support their research, but Nick is the other way around. The teaching has always come first for him.
He runs a hand down his face, wishing more than anything that he had the right answers. God, he’d felt so sure of himself at the beginning of this conversation, certain the hot cocoa would help them find a solution together. But maybe he’s screwing it up.
“I’m sorry, Aud. I can tell you, even the most outgoing kid is secretly battling some kind of insecurity. Those girls who were teasing you, too.”
“Yeah. I guess,” she says, and he has one last thing in his arsenal to try to cheer her up.
“Did you see those photos of Ramona Wilder at UCLA?” Audrey’s eyes instantly brighten as she nods. For the past two weeks, he’s waffled on mentioning this to her. “Well…she’s in my class.”
And just like that, Audrey bursts to life. “Are you serious? And you’re only telling me now?” She gives him a gentle smack on the arm. “You’re so lucky. I think I’d pass out. Did you pass out?”
“I did not,” he says, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. “But it was touch and go for a while.”
“What’s she like?”
It’s the second time tonight he’s been asked to describe the pop star.
Again he remembers her onstage at the Hollywood Bowl, tries to reconcile that image with the student who made his office feel too small and asked, Can you teach me or not?
, her dark eyes glowing. That seductive whiff of her perfume.
She had issued a challenge, and it’s too early to tell if he’s an idiot for trying to meet it.
Now Ramona Wilder is the girl who sits in the second row and diligently takes notes on her laptop.
At least, he hopes she’s taking notes. Considering she hasn’t spoken up in class, she might as well be online shopping or typing out the lyrics to her next hit song, even if she insisted she’s done with music.
But he doesn’t want to wreck the illusion for Audrey.
“Just as cool as you’d imagine,” he says, hoping his smile doesn’t look forced.
Audrey downs the rest of her mug in one gulp, leaving behind a chocolate mustache. “Is there a bring-your-niece-to-work day coming up? Does she like brownies? I could bake her some brownies. Or maybe she’d prefer cupcakes?”
Now his smile turns genuine. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, patting her shoulder. “Closer to the end of the quarter, I’ll ask her if you can come in and say hi.”
The scenario seems entirely surreal when he tries to picture it, but it’s so rare that any part of his job seems cool to his niece. Assuming Ramona makes it to the end of the quarter, he’ll muster up the courage.
This cheers Audrey up so much that she can barely contain her grin as she brushes her teeth. He hopes it was the right thing, telling her that. It can’t cause any harm, he’s fairly sure.
Once Audrey is in bed, Nick lingers in the kitchen. Lexi ran the dishwasher before she left, so he unloads it, then pours the remaining hot chocolate into a mug he’ll keep warm until she gets home.
Usually at this time of night, he’d be doing lesson prep or grading papers, though it’s a bit early in the quarter for that.
He’s never been able to work in silence, so he’d probably spend too long searching his collection for the perfect record to match his mood.
He bought the record player now set up in the guesthouse in his twenties because he fancied himself unbearably hipster, and has now become one of those assholes who insists everything sounds better on vinyl.
Or maybe he’d be browsing apartment listings, saving all the self-pity that goes along with it for his next therapy session.
Maybe he’d swipe through one of the dormant dating apps on his phone.
He hates how impersonal it all feels, though he knows the likelihood of meeting someone organically—the way he met Kathryn in their college dining hall when they both reached for the last slice of pizza before closing time and decided to share it—is slim.
There was a certain romance in that, one he can’t see in the pixels on his phone.
And maybe this makes him old-fashioned, the fact that he’d prefer to meet someone that way, but he can’t help it.
It’s that eternal optimist in him, hoping fate wins out over an algorithm.
Around midnight, the sound of the garage door drags him from his thoughts.
“Even nonprofit directors like to party,” Lexi says with a weary sigh, draping her blazer over a kitchen chair. “Isn’t this past your bedtime?”
He passes his sister the mug of hot chocolate, and she accepts it gratefully. “I’m going to ignore that slight on my sleep schedule.” And then, as he muffles a yawn with his elbow: “Fine, maybe it is.” Blame those early mornings at the UCLA pool.
“Thanks for getting Aud. Everything okay?”
“She had a friend issue,” Nick says. “We talked about it, but I’m not sure how good of a job I did.”
“Isn’t it cruel when the rest of the world can’t see that your kid is the best one?” she asks, and Nick laughs.
“Yes! That’s the real problem here.”
Nick and Lexi have always been close; she’s only a year and a half older, and they shared a friend group growing up.
Their suburb in San Bernardino was about as idyllic as a suburb could be, their parents easygoing and loving, now thriving in their retirement.
The divorce had stunned them. They didn’t blame him or Kathryn, just wanted him to be okay, and to know that his childhood bedroom, recently converted to a yoga studio for his mother, could be reconverted back to a bedroom the moment he said the word.
He’s always felt tremendously lucky, eager to re-create that kind of family for himself.
Summers at the local pool or camping in the national forest. Winters at the cabin in Mammoth Lakes.
They had extended family close by, cousins and aunts and uncles, and he can’t recall ever feeling lonely as a kid.
But, as he keeps reminding himself, things change.
Lexi places a hand on his arm. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay? I’m sure you were great. You know her—she always takes a while to internalize things.”
And even though Nick’s circadian rhythm is beckoning him toward sleep, he stays up a little later than he planned, falling into easy conversation with his sister.
For a while it feels like they’re back at home with their parents, dreaming big dreams and unaware of all the ways the world would disappoint them.