15 Leti
Leti
So.” Bella makes quick work of opening the boxed wine once Julian leaves, halting the path back to my bedroom.
I glare at the peach prosecco as she pours it into the largest wineglass we own.
My kryptonite. A fact she’s well aware of, which is how I know the conversation we’re about to have can’t possibly be good.
My stare is practically withering by the time she opens a jar of peach slices and slides both across the counter.
Mari is fast asleep in her room, and my best friend has cornered me with cheap wine and syrupy, processed fruit.
“Anything you’d like to tell me?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” One glass is harmless.
Two, even. But three is the magic number to make me spill my figurative guts.
The glass she’s slid in front of me? Half the box could fit inside without issue, and she’s filled this sucker to the rim.
I take a careful sip, ensuring there’s no chance of spillage before I go to town on this baby.
“By the way, if you keep supplying me with these, my tolerance is gonna go up.”
“I’ve known you for six years. That’s not likely.” She’s smug, but she’s also right. “I’ll start, since apparently we need to have this conversation again. Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you and Julian? Nothing…romantic?”
I despise that she asks the question like she already knows the answer.
“Nothing in the least.” I drain half the glass before sticking a fork in the jar of peaches. “This is purely business. We’re not even really friends.” This is more of an outright lie, since I’m warming to the idea of Julian becoming my friend. No one’s more surprised than me.
“So you’re letting a perfect stranger take over your dating apps?” She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Try again.”
“Fine. We’re friends. Happy?” After I’ve taken a few sips, she picks up the box and leans over the counter to refresh my glass. “God, you’re such an enabler.”
“If your hobbies weren’t so expensive, I’d find other ways to bribe you,” she says, filling her own glass next. “This is the only way I can pull the truth out of you.”
“There’s nothing to pull!” I’m so convinced of this, I let myself drink faster than I normally would. I’m somewhere near the middle of her second pour when I say, “He’s different than I initially thought.”
“Aha!” She pumps her fist at this tiny nugget of truth she’s uncovered. “I knew it.”
“There’s nothing to know.” I shake my head vehemently. “You know nothing.”
“Does Andrew know you guys are friendly?” she asks. “I’m sure he has lovely things to say about that.”
I huff at her sarcasm before the gravity of what I’m doing weighs down on me.
How could I possibly let my brother’s best friend take over my dating apps and think it was a good idea?
The image of them laughing behind my back sets my face aflame more than the alcohol ever could, and then I shake my head.
That’s not Julian. It’s true I thought differently once, but aside from our second first date, I haven’t found any evidence to support that he’s anything like Andrew.
Julian is a lot of things, but cruel isn’t one of them.
Still, the possibility that Andrew could know about what we’re doing is enough to make my pulse pound.
“Oh no.” I rub at my temples to stave off the coming headache. “I’m letting Andrew’s best friend take over my dating apps. What the hell was I thinking?”
There’s no way my brother knows about us.
I told Julian not to tell him we went out.
That has to extend to what we’re doing now, doesn’t it?
All my life, Andrew has given me hell for existing.
For taking extra time at our parents’ house to figure out what I want to do with my life.
For being wary of the dating landscape. For playing video games for a partial living.
For wanting something more out of my life than what my sister has and what he wants.
To him, it’s harmless teasing. The few times I’ve broached the topic, I’ve been told I’m the problem for not knowing how to take a joke. If he knows Julian is helping me, Andrew will never let me live it down for a single moment.
“Give me a second,” I tell Bella, miraculously hopping off the barstool without a dizzy spell and pressing my phone to my ear. It rings twice before Julian answers.
“This is a surprise,” he says in lieu of a simple hello. “What’s up, Leticia?”
“Hi.” I ignore Bella’s eyes burning a hole in my back, as well as the impulse to take this call in my room. I’d only be proving her point. “Listen, I know this is random, but you haven’t told Andrew about anything we’re doing, have you?”
“No,” he says. “Funnily enough, it hasn’t come up.”
“Okay. Good.” I breathe a sigh of relief.
“If you could do me a favor and let it not come up ever, I’d appreciate it.
My brother and I…” I trail off, unsure how to explain our relationship.
I haven’t given him many details the few times he’s asked, and I have no idea what my brother’s told him about me.
“It wouldn’t look good for either of us. ”
“Right.” His tone is indecipherable. “Well, don’t worry. I won’t tell him. I haven’t even told him we know each other yet. It’s sort of hard to explain without telling him about the second first date fiasco.”
“Can you not tell him that we know each other either?” Inwardly, I wince. The immediate guilt bubbling up my chest doesn’t help when he sighs.
“Leti—”
“I know it’s a lot to ask.” Julian doesn’t strike me as the type of person who’d be comfortable lying, least of all to someone close to him, but I’m desperate. “But it’s better for both of us this way. Trust me.”
“Is this because y’all are in a fight, or because you’re ashamed of me?”
“We’re not in a fight.”
“Ah, so you are ashamed of me.” His tone is teasing, so if anything I can be grateful I didn’t accidentally hurt his feelings.
Again. His face from when I said our date was mediocre is still burned in my brain.
It wasn’t even true, so I don’t know why I said it.
I have enough to feel guilty for as it is.
“I’m not ashamed of you. I’m ashamed I need outside help with my dating situation in the first place,” I explain. “Andrew can’t be trusted with sensitive information. He’ll make my life a living hell. More so than usual anyway.”
“He’s your brother. It wouldn’t hurt to try more with him.”
“I’m sorry, at what point in this conversation did you turn into Elena?” I pull a face, half tempted to convert this call to FaceTime so he can see how much his words disgust me. “Or worse, one of my parents. Blegh.”
“I’m just saying.” He laughs. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to cut him some slack every once in a while. He might surprise you.”
“I’m hanging up now,” I say inside a sigh. “Sorry for calling when I just saw you earlier. What are you up to tonight?”
“Nothing much,” he says. “Another late night grading worksheets.”
“I’ll let you go, then. Sorry for bothering. I guess I could’ve texted you.”
“No worries. Call whenever you want. I’ll always answer.”
I bite down a grin, grateful my back is turned on my best friend. Until I hang up, take one look at her face, and know she heard every word. “Oh, you’re so screwed.”
“Am not,” I scoff. “Shut up.”
“I guess he is different from what you first thought.” She drains her wineglass.
“He’s definitely nothing like Andrew.” I pick up my own glass, thinking. “But he’s not someone I’d pick to have in my life, you know? He’s too…sunshiny.”
“Or maybe you’re too rain-cloudy, and he only seems like a sunbeam by comparison.” She smirks when I scowl at her. “It’s great that you two are friends. He might be good for you.”
I’m exhausted from typing so much.
After Julian got the ball rolling, he insisted it was time I start taking over my inbox.
Once I get to know my matches more, I’ll need to decide who I’m going out with first. It’s been nearly a week of messaging back and forth, and so far Nathaniel is in the lead, but that’s only because he asked me out first. I go through our last messages to each other, right up to the point where I left him on read.
Me: So, ice cream huh? What’s your favorite flavor?
Nathaniel: Rocky road. I know, pretty cliche for a hiker
Nathaniel: What’s yours?
Me: Strawberry, specifically in a waffle cone
Nathaniel: Love a good waffle cone. I know a place that opened up recently if you want to give it a try. We could also do dinner. I know we just matched, but I’d prefer to get to know you in person. It’ll be my treat.
Me: I’d prefer that too. Much more efficient than waiting a day and a half for a reply just for me to ask what your favorite ice cream flavor is.
Nathaniel: You could tell I’ve been sitting on that rocky road joke for a while, huh?
Me: It was cute, but I bet it’d be even cuter in person.
Nathaniel: You have no idea
Nathaniel: How does next Saturday work?
I’m overthinking this. Julian would’ve agreed by now, followed by two more appropriately quippy messages. He’d also rush down here the second I ask him for help, but I can’t keep using him as a crutch. He’s helped me enough. I have to do this on my own.
Me: Next Saturday sounds great! Unless you’re no longer free. I know I took a while to reply. It’s been a little chaotic around here.
There. It’s not even really a lie, considering the red string Julian put up on the wall when he came back up yesterday. I should’ve told him right there that Nathaniel asked me on an in-person date. I’m still not sure why I didn’t.
Nathaniel: No worries, and we’re on for next weekend!
We text for a while more, and then I officially have a first date with Nathaniel.
My hands are shaking by the time I put the phone down, and I can hardly explain why.
I had no qualms after making plans with Erica, but that was before she outright rejected me in the middle of an Italian restaurant.
Would Nathaniel do the same if he knew that when it comes to romance and relationships, I have no idea what I’m doing?
Speaking of crutches, before I know what I’m doing, I have my messages pulled up, my finger hovering over Julian’s name. For once, I don’t let myself fight it. He’s my friend. This is what friends are for, right? Encouragement. Support. I could use some of that right about now. That’s all this is.
Me: Well, I officially have a date with Nathaniel next Saturday.
Julian: That’s great!
Julian: I’m gonna hit him up for sooooo much free Whataburger when y’all get together.
Me: It’s one date. It could be a bust like my last two first dates.
Julian: If it is, it won’t be your fault.
Me: How do you know? Maybe I’m not ready for this. What if I hate him?
Me: Or worse, what if he hates me?
Julian: The first is probable. The last, not so much.
Me: How would you know?
Julian: Personal experience.
I can’t help it. I’m smiling down at the screen, grateful no one can see me.
Julian: Don’t be nervous. Seriously.
Three bubbles appear and disappear in quick succession before they go away completely. I should be surprised by the wave of disappointment that washes over me. Or better yet, I shouldn’t feel it at all. But before I can fully analyze it, his text comes in.
Julian: I can help you prep if you want.
I’m way too excited about the prospect. What’s worse, I’m excited about seeing Julian again. But Bella can’t be right. I’ve made up my mind about him twice over. We’re friends—tentative friends, at that. Nothing more.