Chapter Twelve
Basil
Challenge: Watch 15 movies a movie
On Saturday morning, Evan enlisted my help to move his things out of storage to his new rental. He was in a mood, and I suspected there was trouble brewing in paradise, but it also might have dawned on him that by signing a lease, he’d committed himself to at least a year at a job that was already stealing his joy.
In a lame attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “Hey, did you hear about the last unit in the apartment building?”
He set a box on the hardwood floor, confused. “This is a house, Bas.”
Undeterred, I finished the joke. “It was last, but not leased.”
He chewed on his lower lip, no trace of a smile. “I’m gonna start assembling the bed.”
When I brought up the next load, he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by hardware, furniture parts strewn about. “You planning to stay here tonight?”
He glanced up from the instructions. “Hopefully, if I can get this thing set up. I’ve got a date with Elizabeth.”
I hoped that meant I’d have my place to myself tonight. “Where you taking her?”
“Drinks.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal to take a girl out. “Chelsea staying over?”
“Maybe.” I could never anticipate the many moods of Chelsea, but she’d texted me an eggplant emoji after I’d asked her over, so I had my hopes up.
“Dude, are you actually sweating this? I’m going to have to change your nickname.”
“Careful.” He’d better not call me Hard Lover.
“I’m just saying, who are you and what have you done with my fickle friend?”
“Yeah, yeah. Funny.”
“What has you trying so hard? The thrill of the chase?”
My jaw clenched. “It’s the girl, man. I like her.”
“I mean, she’s clearly a smoke show.”
I took a step forward. He might be my best friend, and sure, we’d joked like this in the past, but… “Not today, Evan.”
He lifted a hand, laughing. “Holy shit, Bas. I’m only teasing. I just hope you know what you’re doing. After all, she outright told you she doesn’t want a boyfriend.”
“I know what I’m doing.” I thought I did.
I was chasing after a shadow, I knew, but I couldn’t make myself stop.
Chelsea could say she wanted to keep things casual, but there was something deeper happening here than I’d ever experienced. I had no way of knowing if it would last, but every time we talked, I felt a stronger connection. She got me to open up, and she was pushing me to grow, to think about my goals and, ironically, my future. By challenging me and validating my work, she’d awoken some of my dormant pride and lit a fire in my imagination. When she chastised me for giving up, she was right. Absolutely, 100 percent, dead-on-balls accurate.
I made up my mind to start searching for restaurants in need of a chef and even considered my uncle’s offer, even though that felt like charity, like a different form of giving up. Still, it wasn’t the worst option, and I might have considered it more seriously if it wasn’t five thousand miles away and I didn’t have a girl right here in town who I wanted to get to know better.
And I was getting to know her a little at a time. We were treading water, but I genuinely enjoyed her company, so it was a win. Not a win-win. Just a win. Time was on my side. If we kept on as we were, I refused to believe she wouldn’t change her mind about the whole boyfriend thing.
Evening rolled around with a promise of something more romantic than our hookups, more physical than our friendly hangs. I’d offered to pick Chelsea up, but I got the sense she wanted control over her exit strategy. She knocked around nine, and I answered the door like a nervous suitor. She smiled so radiantly, my heart surged. She entered my house and twirled. “What do you think?”
My jaw dropped open like a lech. “Damn, Chelsea.”
She wore a black, form-fitting top that drew attention to her curves. Her cleavage stared at me like an appetizer. She’d swept her hair up into a messy knot with curls falling down in tendrils. And she’d used some kind of witchcraft on her eyes to darken them. Her mouth brought my gaze to a standstill. I couldn’t stop staring at her red, shiny lips.
As I uncorked a bottle of wine, my fantasy transformed to the two of us ignoring the movie entirely, wrapped up together, grinding, kissing, slipping our clothes off one item at a time.
I flipped on the TV. “I was thinking Galaxy Quest or Spaceballs. ”
“You really know how to show a girl a good time.”
“Right.” I thought about what Zoe or Ana would pick. “ The Proposal was good.”
Chelsea sat on my sofa. “I’ve never seen Galaxy Quest .”
“Okay, then.” I lowered the lights and searched Netflix, then settled next to her and said, “Are you ready to get astro-physical?”
Her groan made me laugh, but when she rolled her eyes, she relaxed into me, so it was worth it. I put my arm around her, and she rested her head against my shoulder. When she set her empty wineglass on the coffee table, I reached over with my free hand and took hers. We watched the movie, laughing and repeating funny lines, but my focus was on her every movement.
The movie ended, and still laughing, she gazed into my eyes. “Never give up! Never surrender!”
A banging at the door started the dog barking.
“What in the—”
I jumped up and saw Evan peering through the glass panes. As soon as I opened the door, he stormed in and scowled at Chelsea. “Does he know?”
My eyebrows drew together as I tried to sort out his question. “Do I know what?”
Chelsea was looking at him like he’d just fallen to Earth. “Yeah. What?”
“About your checklist?”
Chelsea and I both tilted our heads at him in the same way. Chelsea’s eyes widened first. “What about it?”
“What are you talking about?” I gasped as understanding dawned. “Wait. Their checklist? That’s what this is about?”
He dropped his head into his hands. “So you did know? The bullshit conversation?” He looked up, like he was making salient points. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Chelsea stood, and my yia yia’s afghan fell from her lap and pooled at her feet. Along with my romantic aspirations. “What is there to tell? It has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me. It’s the whole reason she’s going out with me. She only talked to me because of that dare.” He kicked my coffee table, then paced around like he was looking for something to punch.
Chelsea flinched, and I grabbed Evan by the wrist. “Come on. You can sleep in Farrid’s bed. He won’t be home tonight.”
He followed me to the back bedroom and sat on the bed with his elbows on his knees and waited while I fetched a pair of my pajamas. I leaned against the doorframe, watching to see if he was going to be okay. “What happened, Evan? Why are you so upset?”
“Why aren’t you?” He flumped back against the pillow. “Everything’s changed.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic. Nothing’s changed at all, man.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“So what started this?”
His eyes closed.
“I saw their list. This whole long laundry list of guys she’s been with.”
I’d seen their list, and nothing about it struck me as a way to meet guys. If anything, I’d twisted it to my own purposes to have a fighting chance with Chelsea. “You know that list is just for fun. You’re blowing it out of proportion.”
“Are you so stupid?”
“It’s just a game, Evan.”
“Can I give you some advice?” asked the guy sitting on a twin bed with a pair of flannel pajamas folded on his lap.
“Sure.”
“Don’t fall for girls who just want to use you.”
I cut him some slack for being in shock and asked, “Can I give you some advice?”
“Shoot.”
“Don’t compound your misery. If you choose to be a martyr over a simple misunderstanding, you’re going to destroy a perfectly good relationship. It was just a game. ”
“I’m so tired of realizing I’m alone in a relationship.”
“You could try talking to her.”
“Not a chance.” He lay back down and turned onto his side. “Could you hit the lights on your way out?”
I closed the door and left him to contemplate what really mattered to him. I felt sorry for him. He had such deep trust issues, it was really only a matter of time before he erupted. I hoped Elizabeth would forgive him, but I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t.
At last, I made it back to the living room, ready to laugh about Evan’s lunatic behavior and show Chelsea I was on her side, but I found her asleep on my sofa and didn’t have the heart to wake her. It made me wonder how much toxic masculinity must take out of her. She rarely spoke about her dad, but it must cost her something every single time she had to deal with men behaving badly.
At least, I’d never act like that.
I draped a blanket over her, thinking she’d wake as I gathered the glasses and straightened up, but once I’d changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth for bed, she’d curled her knees up into a tiny ball.
Gingerly, I gathered her in my arms and carried her to my bed. I slid her under my covers, then lay down on top of them, pulling her to me, and I fell asleep in the best way possible. With her in my arms.