Chapter 18
C OMEDY C ELLAR SMELLED LIKE beer, old wood, and musty carpeting.
A man holding a clipboard led Avery and Pete down a hallway covered in inky newspaper clippings into the main room, where the comedians would do their sets.
Their second-row seats were so close to the stage, they’d be able to see sweat bubbling on the performers’ foreheads.
“I thought this place would be much bigger,” Avery said as she scooted over to make room for a couple seated beside her. It was her first time here at the iconic venue and she was excited, taking it all in. “My apartment is bigger, and that’s not saying much.”
“It’s not,” Pete said with a laugh. “Your place is small.”
“Listen, at least I don’t live with my parents.”
Pete pretended to stab himself in the chest with a knife. “Ouch! You went there.”
Avery looked around the venue, at the big mirror stretching along the back wall and the famous colorful “Comedy Cellar” sign lit up on the stage.
Her gaze snagged on a framed photo of Louis C.K.
hung up next to photos of other comedians who did stand-up here in the past. She frowned. She’d once been a huge fan of that guy.
She leaned in closer to Pete, grateful that he was one of the good ones. “Well, I’m happy we’re here together.”
“Me too.” Pete slung his arm across the back of Avery’s chair, his delicious sandalwood cologne making Avery feel heady and exhilarated. “What’d you do last weekend?”
Avery didn’t want to think about last weekend.
The only thing she did after Morgan gave Noah her phone number was get progressively more drunk and resist the urge to text Pete strings of unintelligible words.
At the bar, she realized she wasn’t having a good time because she wished he was there, so she left alone before midnight, bought a slice of pizza that she ate in the cab ride home, and put herself to bed.
She hadn’t felt such an allegiance toward a man since Ryan.
That she didn’t want to stay out all night searching for stimulation, satisfied by the knowledge that Pete was on the other side of her good night text and she’d see him soon enough, felt something like progress toward a more stable emotional state.
“Not much, just hung out with some friends,” she said. “What about you?”
“It was my cousin’s birthday, so we had a little party at my aunt’s house.” Pete cleared his throat. “My mom actually asked about you.”
Avery’s ears perked. “Yeah? What’d you say?”
Pete nudged her, smiled bashfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Avery leaned forward, her heart warming at the memory of Gina, the familiarity of her. How awful Avery had been to cut their meeting so short that night on Staten Island. “I would, actually.”
“Oh, nothing. She just asked where that nice girl was that she met a few months ago.” He spoke in a relaxed and airy sort of way, like what he was saying wasn’t a big deal, but Avery was relieved to hear that Gina still thought she was nice.
“And what did you say?”
“Well, first I told her you were more than just nice . ” Pete nuzzled into Avery’s neck, making her ticklish. “I told her you were smart, and beautiful, and funny, and fun …”
Avery was momentarily disoriented by Pete’s positive descriptors of her.
Was he talking about her, or someone else?
She almost felt like she was tricking him, the way he could only see so much good in her.
Or maybe it was possible that she wasn’t so bad, if a guy as great as Pete thought she was great too.
“Pete, stop!” She giggled and shoved him away lightly. “We’re in public!”
He blinked hard a few times while the rest of his face remained expressionless. “Avery, we had sex in a bar bathroom. The jig is up.”
“Fair. I’m trying to be more civilized now, though. No more sex in public bathrooms, okay?”
Pete laughed. “That was my first time anyway, so that’s fine with me. But if you change your mind, let me know. Would happily do it again.”
A waitress came by to take their drink orders.
Then the lights dimmed, the chatter quieted down, and the host, a scruffy man with a beer belly, came onto the stage and introduced himself as Steve.
He told some jokes to loosen up the crowd before zeroing in on Avery and Pete, preparing to heckle them.
He asked where they were from, and when they said New Jersey and Staten Island, he roared a dramatic guffaw.
“I’m so sorry for the both of you,” Steve bellowed. “How did you guys meet? You both cast on the same season of Jersey Shore ?”
“We met at a bar, actually,” Pete called out.
“Whoa, how old-fashioned!” Steve gestured wildly to the crowd. “Isn’t it crazy how meeting at a bar is now considered a meet-cute? You guys dating now or what?”
Pete glanced at Avery, like he was going to let her answer. She paused for a beat before replying, “Yes, we’re dating.”
“Well, that took a minute!” Steve looked knowingly at the cackling audience, as if the joke wrote itself. “Is that your final answer?”
Avery rested her hand on Pete’s knee and told Steve yes, yes it was. And maybe it was silly to say the word “dating” out loud for the first time at a comedy show, but for the first time she didn’t find herself recoiling at the thought. In fact, it finally felt right.
The show ended two hours later to a rambunctious round of applause.
The venue cleared out into MacDougal Street, which bustled with crowded eateries, loud NYU students, and groups of stoners playing drums for cash.
Avery looped her arm through Pete’s. It was a perfect weekend night in early March, and winter was finally beginning to thaw into spring, and the air smelled like gravel and cigarettes and possibility.
Tonight was the first warm night where Avery didn’t need a jacket.
Her good mood was buoyed when she and Pete stopped for dinner at a pizzeria and ordered a plate of mozzarella sticks, which had become their go-to appetizer whenever they went out to eat.
Now, every time Avery saw a plate of mozzarella sticks, she thought of the man she was dating.
Dating! She was so proud of herself for being able to say it.
“That host definitely had a crush on you,” Pete said, biting into a mozzarella stick.
Avery licked marinara sauce off her finger. “You think so?”
“For sure. He wished he was on a date with you instead of me.”
Avery bounced her eyebrows up and down. A date! They were dating! She wanted to scream it from a rooftop like a cringey rom-com character. “You jealous?”
Pete shrugged adorably. How one shrugs adorably, Avery was not sure, but Pete did it.
Avery thought about Morgan and Charlie’s suggestion that she bring Pete to the bachelor party.
Bringing him to Colorado next month could be a trial run for bringing him to the wedding in August. The latter was her ultimate goal anyway, and the bachelor party was more casual, smaller scale, and lower pressure, with some of the same people who’d be at the wedding.
That weekend could be a test to see if Avery could successfully manage balancing her past and her present.
If it went well—if Pete remained ignorant to what happened senior year—she’d feel more comfortable inviting him to the wedding, which was when she’d really have to be on her best behavior, thwarting panic attack triggers and keeping her past under wraps.
Plus, she’d finally named what she and Pete were doing for what it was. And instead of feeling anxious about admitting they were together, she felt settled and strong, like a tectonic plate cemented into place beside him. She wanted to celebrate that somehow.
“So, I have a question,” she began. She leaned forward, the red upholstered cushion of the booth crunching under her thighs. “Are you free the weekend of April twenty-fifth? Morgan and Charlie are hosting a joint bachelor party in Colorado. Do you want to come?”
“Really?” Pete’s face brightened. “I’m invited?”
“Charlie also asked about it, for what it’s worth. I’m not just being one of those girls who can’t go anywhere without the guy she’s dating.”
A smile danced on Pete’s lips. “I wouldn’t hate it if you were being like that, you know.”
Avery blushed. “Well, I guess right now I am kind of being like that, since I’m the one inviting you. And since I really want you to come.”
Pete leaned over the speckled Formica table to kiss her. “I’d love to. That’s awesome. Thanks for the invite.”
Avery’s phone buzzed in her pocket as she took a bite of another mozzarella stick. She snuck a quick peek at the home screen and saw that it was a number she didn’t recognize. She let it continue ringing and go to voicemail. But then it buzzed again.
“Sorry.” Mid-chew, she pointed to her phone. “One second.” She answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, is this Avery?”
Her eyes widened.
That voice. It would wake her from a coma.
She hung up and started coughing uncontrollably, spraying bits of cheese and sauce and breadcrumbs everywhere.
“Whoa, whoa!” Pete smacked her back, his eyes bulging in alarm. “Are you okay? Are you choking?”
Avery kept coughing and spraying food like a broken fire hydrant, trying to contain everything behind her hand. “No, I’m fine. I’m—sorry. I’ve just … forgotten how to swallow, apparently.”
“Who was that?”
Avery shoveled more mozzarella sticks into her mouth, guzzling them down like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.
She wished she could chuck her phone across the room, but she knew she’d hurt someone from the force of the impact, so she shoved it inside her purse instead.
She felt dizzy. Noah was on the other line.
Noah’s mouth was inches from the speaker on his phone.
Noah’s breath was in Avery’s ear. Just like it was when he—
“Nobody. Let’s eat,” she said curtly.
Pete narrowed his eyes, both skeptical and concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to call them back?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”