Chapter 10 #2
“Well, then, what is it?”
Jonathan opens his mouth and looks around the room, probably trying to find the quickest route to escape this conversation.
He stands up suddenly. “I’ll go get us drinks,” he says, a poor attempt at trying to avoid confrontation.
“No, I will,” I say, slipping out of the booth. “I owe Meg and Alex one anyway.” I take a step toward the bar and immediately slam into a broad chest. I let out an “oof,” and solid hands reach out to steady me.
“Phoebe!” Finn’s hands wrap around my arms, holding me in place. He’s wearing a gray crewneck with a white T-shirt peeking out from underneath, and the hair falling over his eyes is slightly damp. He smells like apricot shampoo.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he says as he pushes the wet strands of hair out of his eyes.
“Noah here was hogging the shower.” He steps aside, revealing someone who Meg would call a short king and Alex would categorize as a twunk (not to be confused with a twink).
Either way, I know they’ll both want him.
With dark skin and a stocky athletic build, Noah’s the perfect contrast to Finn’s golden complexion and long, toned legs.
“No worries!” I tell Finn, and standing in the middle of Jeffery’s looking right at him, despite being caught completely off guard, I actually think that I might be somewhat okay.
I think back to something Sandy once said, about how the anticipation of an event can be worse than the event itself.
“Anticipation is just another word for uncertainty,” she had said.
“It’s a stretch of time where you have very little control.
And the longer you have to anticipate something, the more time you have to prepare yourself for the worst.”
Maybe that’s why going out with Matthew, after close to a year of making up scenarios in my head, feels like the hardest thing in the world. Whereas everything with Finn is happening so quickly, I hardly have time to work myself into a panic.
Noah reaches out his hand to shake mine.
“I’ve heard so much about you…the infamous Teacher Phoebe.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I tell him, hoping someone else heard the infamous Teacher Phoebe comment. “Come meet my friends!” I turn around and take one step forward to where Jonathan sits with an uncomfortable look on his face.
Did you eat too much dairy? I want to ask.
“This is Jonathan.” I gesture toward his side of the booth, and Jonathan offers up a weak wave. He can’t even be bothered to make eye contact. Finn must notice his lack of enthusiasm because he meets Jonathan’s pathetic hello with only a nod.
What is Jonathan’s problem tonight?
Meg and Alex jump out of their seats, practically tripping over each other’s feet, and make a beeline straight for Noah.
“So nice to meet you,” Meg tells him, and then extends the same warm welcome to Finn. I turn toward Alex to make an introduction, but he beats me to it.
“I’m Alex.” He reaches out and takes Finn’s hand, and then Noah’s, eagerly. “Really, really great meeting you guys,” he says, shaking Noah’s hand so furiously that his glasses are bobbing up and down and I worry Noah’s arm is about to be yanked out of its socket.
Nora introduces herself, and then I’m sliding into the booth next to Jonathan, and Finn is sitting next to me on the other side. Noah slides into the corner across from Jonathan, with Alex and Meg hastily sliding in next to him.
“Uh, hello?” Nora says from the booth where she’s sitting alone. “We need three people to qualify as a team.”
Jonathan jumps up so fast, his knees hit the bottom of the table. “Let me come over there.” He cranes his neck down to look at me and Finn. “Excuse me,” he says.
“Really?” I whisper to him while Finn slides out of his seat to let Jonathan pass.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers back. “She needs another person.”
I slide out after Finn, then Jonathan makes his way to the other table without looking back.
“Sorry about that,” I tell Finn once we’re sitting next to each other again. “I think he’s in a bad mood.”
“It’s okay.” We’re sitting so close together that our thighs are touching, and I try not to think about Lucas and the Frosted Flakes, but I can’t help it.
But I’m not twelve anymore and this isn’t the auditorium and I haven’t eaten Frosted Flakes since.
I swallow the panic threatening to rise in my throat and wrap my hands around the cold safety of my drink.
“Is he your…?” Finn starts to ask, and it takes me a second to realize he’s waiting for me to fill in the blank.
“My roommate. And best friend,” I add. “Usually.”
“Ah,” Finn says, and it occurs to me that Finn may have thought Jonathan was my boyfriend.
I wonder if that thought upset him. Shoot, I think to myself while remembering Nora’s advice: Make him think you’re interested in someone else.
Maybe I should have left our relationship status up in the air for a little while longer.
“One more person needs to come over here,” Nora insists, and I don’t volunteer because I don’t want to be on Jonathan’s team right now.
And I quite like my spot next to Finn. I look across the booth to Meg and Alex, who are in the middle of firing off question after question at Noah.
I give Alex a pleading look, only because I think Noah is straight and Meg stands a better chance.
“Fine,” Alex huffs as he gets up.
“Do you want to get a drink before the next round starts?” Finn asks me.
“Yes,” I answer immediately. Finn flashes a smile at me as he scooches out of the booth, accidentally kicking over my bag when he stands.
“Sorry,” he says while reaching down to pick up the few stray items that tumbled out.
This time, I had the foresight to keep my list far away from Finn, safe in the glove compartment of my car.
But looking down at the contents of my bag now splayed on the floor, I realize there’s been an oversight.
Finn reaches for the black bottle of Seduction.
“Oh, that’s not mine,” I tell him, waving him off. “It must have been there when I got here.” He picks up the bottle to get a closer look at the inscription. Thanks to our seductive and captivating fragrance, he won’t be able to resist you.
“You can just leave it,” I say. “Someone will probably come back looking for it.” He nods, a small smile creeping over his lips.
We make our way to the bar side by side, and I’m surprised to see Jonathan standing there, talking to Jerry. I didn’t even see him get up.
“What do you want to drink?” Finn asks me.
“Oh, I can get it myself, don’t worry,” I tell him, hoping he’ll fight me on it.
“No, I got it,” he insists. Get Finn to buy me a drink. I give him my drink order and he heads to the other side of the counter, where there are fewer people and he’ll have an easier time grabbing a bartender’s attention. I continue walking in Jonathan’s direction.
I tap him on the shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”
He turns slowly, unsurprised, almost like he was expecting me.
“I’m sorry.” He looks down at me with genuine regret in his eyes. “I haven’t seen you this serious about a crush in a while, and I guess I’m thrown off. I just want everything to work out for you.”
His words tumble out fast, and I look down at the bar to see three empty shot glasses in front of him. Did he drink all of those?
“I want you to be happy,” he says.
The question that’s been looming in the back of my mind all night bangs so loudly at the front door of my consciousness, it’s become impossible to ignore: Is Jonathan jealous?
And if he is, does this change everything?
“Here you go!” Finn makes his way through the crowd and hands me my drink. Jonathan offers him a smile this time around. A peace offering.
“Come back to the tables,” I tell Jonathan.
“I’m gonna stay here for a bit and keep Jerry company,” he tells us. “You know how overwhelmed he gets on trivia night.”
Finn is eerily quiet as we make our way back to the tables, and I decide showing him my high score on the Pac-Man machine could be a good way to ease the tension.
“Let me show you where I spend most of my time,” I tell him, but when we round the corner, some guy is already playing at the machine.
The majority of his face is obscured by a shadow cast by his Yankees hat, but he seems like he’s around our age. And at least somewhat attractive.
Make him think you’re interested in someone else.
I see an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: make Finn jealous while checking off an item from my list. Compliment a stranger on his outfit should do just fine.
“I like your shoes,” I tell Yankees Hat while Finn looks on from behind me. Yankees Hat tears his gaze away from the game and stares at me blankly.
Silence.
There’s a slightly sour edge to his demeanor.
Did I say something wrong? It was such an innocuous comment. I wonder what’s got his panties in such a bunch.
And then I look down.
He’s wearing one of those chunky black boots, the kind you get when you can start walking on an injured foot, and one Adidas slide.
I panic. “I meant your shirt. I like your shirt.”
“Thanks?” he says. His Pac-Man gets eaten, and he offers me one last confused look before stepping back from the machine and walking toward the bathroom.
I follow him, unable to resist the urge to overexplain myself.
“It’s not that I don’t like your shoe,” I say as he disappears into the bathroom. “I just think your shirt is really a standout piece!”
The door slams shut in my face.
I prepare to turn around toward Finn, mortified by another task gone wrong, but when I swivel to face him, someone else is in his place. Jonathan leans against the Pac-Man machine, stroking the stubble on his chin and looking at me with an arched eyebrow.
“What did I just watch?”
I put my hands on my hips. “A train wreck, it would appear.” I sigh. “I was trying something out.”
“You are so out of that guy’s league it’s not even funny,” Jonathan says matter-of-factly.
I shake my head from side to side and hope that the mess of frizzy hair falling in front of my eyes is enough to mask my mortified expression. “That makes it even worse,” I whine. “Why am I following a man with exposed toes into the men’s room?”
I move toward Jonathan in an attempt to hide my face in his chest, but he stops me by grabbing my shoulders, holding me in place, and staring down at me earnestly.
“That asshole should be thanking you for looking at him.”
In a moment of perfect timing, the bathroom door opens, and Yankees Hat walks out right as Jonathan pulls me to his chest and kisses the top of my head. He meets Yankees Hat’s gaze, glaring at him before turning his full attention back to me. I can’t help the blush that creeps up my neck.
“Let’s go back to the table.” He walks me back to the booth where Meg and Noah have inched closer to each other, and Finn sits across from them nursing his beer. I sit back down next to him.
“Finn is throwing me a little birthday thing next week,” I hear Noah tell Meg. “You should come.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to invite you to that!
” Finn turns to me. “We’re having a party at our place next Thursday.
” I nod feverishly. “I’ll text you the details.
” He reaches for his phone in his pocket, patting down each one before turning back to me.
“Shit, I forgot my phone at home.” Of course he did.
That is so Finn.
“I can put my number in yours?”
He reaches his hand out expectantly.
I hand him my phone, and he begins to type his number.
His brow furrows as he looks at my screen, and I see his finger swipe in an upward motion, probably hiding a text that popped up.
I turn to ice. Oh my god, I panic, thinking about what it could be: Another stalker-type photo from Cheryl?
Something sexual from Nora involving what she thinks Finn wants to do to me and where? This could be the end, I think.
“Sorry,” he says while swiping his thumb up on the screen again. “Someone named Matthew is blowing up your phone.”
At the mention of Matthew’s name, my whole body relaxes, and the thought of him sending me his daily scores, one after the other, makes me smile. I lift my drink to my lips in an effort to hide my grin. After Finn hands my phone back to me, I text him, It’s Phoebe:)
Give Finn my number.
I’m suddenly overcome with a sense of guilt.
I feel like I’m cheating on Matthew with Finn.
And Jonathan. Who I also happen to be cheating on with Finn.
How did I get here? I wonder, when just a week ago the thought of finally finding someone felt so far away.
Now I’m exchanging numbers with Finn, fielding emotional outbursts from Jonathan, and texting Matthew more than ever before.
I clutch my phone, eager to respond to Matthew’s text, and flash Finn a smile while he listens intently to Meg and Noah’s conversation about a movie I’ve never seen.
He smiles back. Almost as if I can sense it, I turn to find Jonathan looking at me from across our tables with a pained expression I can’t quite place.
Sorrow? Longing? Whatever it is, something isn’t right.
He raises his glass to me, and I raise mine back.
I take one more sip of my drink to steady myself as I prepare to join the conversation happening around me, but I have a hard time willing myself to focus.
Because for the first time in my life, the nagging voice in the back of my mind that’s always been wondering when when when is starting to ask who who who?