8. Elliot
ELLIOT
“ G rady Hendrix? Yay or nay?”
“Huh?”
“Yay, looks cool.”
She adds it to the pile building under one arm.
“You haven’t got anything.”
“What?”
She repeats herself slowly, like I’m an alien or hard of hearing. “You. Don’t. Have. Any. Books.”
“I haven’t seen anything I want.”
“What’s wrong with you today?” she asks, side-eying me.
“Nothing, I’m just tired.”
“Hmm.” She moves along the shelves, pausing at the Js.
She glances behind her, her face changing in an instant. “Don’t look now, but Cute Bookstore Guy’s been checking you out for the past thirty minutes.”
My face gets hot. “No, he hasn’t.”
“Uh huh, has too.”
I shake my head and try to focus on the books in front of me. I’m wearing my glasses again and I feel less uncomfortable, but also less attractive, than I’d felt wearing contacts.
“Eli, this could be the summer you finally hook up with him.”
“Pfft.”
“What? Don’t scoff. He’s legit looking at you.”
I try to ignore her and pick up the nearest book, pretending to study the blurb. But she spins me by the shoulder and looks me dead in the eye. “Elliot, you are a smart, hot, capable man.”
I laugh.
Her lips twitch. “I’m being serious! You could totally nail Cute Bookstore Guy.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but?—”
“Listen, you grab something sexy to buy and I’ll go get the skinny on him for you.”
She leaves before I have a chance to argue.
Damn. I have had a crush on Cute Bookstore Guy ever since I saw him working here a few summers ago, but I can’t exactly just forget the fact that Connor kissed me last night.
When I glance over to the register, Scout’s bending the poor guy’s ear and giving me signals with her eyes to hurry up.
Maybe talking to a cute guy who is not my best friend’s brother might be a good idea.
With a sigh, I study the shelves for something ‘sexy’ to buy.
Maybe the horror section is the wrong place to look.
Is Silvia Moreno-Garcia sexy? The Mexican Gothic cover has a sexy woman on the cover, but I’ve already read that and if Cute Bookstore Guy thinks that’s sexy, then I’m not his type.
Unless he’s bi—like Connor. Nope, get him out of your head.
Scout’s giving me hurry the fuck up eyes, so I grab a book I’ve been meaning to read for a while—sexy or not—and take it to the check-out line .
Scout steps around a display holding bookmarks and pretends to be studying them with keen interest as I step up to the counter.
“Shirley Jackson,” Cute Bookstore Guy says. “Cool.”
Okay, cool is good. It’s not sexy, but it’s good, right?
“Have you read it yet?” he asks.
I glance at his name tag. Gabe. I’ve seen it before, but we’ve never called him Gabe. He remains Cute Bookstore Guy, no matter how much more time it takes to say.
“No, not yet.”
“It’s so good. Way better than the Netflix show,” he says as he rings it up, handling the book the way you’d handle a delicate bird.
I like it when people revere books and treat them with the respect they deserve.
But I also love when people dog ear books and highlight them and write in the margins.
“Netflix ruined it—in my opinion,” Cute Bookstore Guy— Gabe —is saying as he puts my purchase into a paper bag. “All those jump scares? The novel is way more subtle. It’s artistic, you know?”
“Totally.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. I broke up with Netflix the second they stopped letting you share your password and made you watch ads. Disney+ has The X-Files, The Golden Girls, and all the original Star Wars movies. What more could you want?
I don’t say all this—that would be weird. I just nod and smile and tap my card on the machine when he asks me to.
I’m about to rush out of the shop and tell Scout I could hear her clearing her throat behind those bookmarks when Gabe says, “So….”
I pause, waiting for the rest.
Is he nervous? He’s rubbing the back of his neck and smiling shyly. “Um … I was wondering if maybe I could get your number—your phone number.” He laughs at himself. “What other number would I want?”
“Oh … um, sure.”
Scout squeals behind the bookmarks. I wish I could shush her.
“Cool.” Gabe runs his hand through his hair. “Cool,” he repeats.
I take my phone out and give him my number so I can get out of the store before Scout breaks anything in her excitement.
She hunts me down and pushes me into a side street so she can scream into my face.
“I told you,” she says, out of breath. “You’re gonna have sex with Cute Bookstore Guy.”
“Shh. And his name is Gabe. We gotta start remembering that.”
“See! You’re already practically a couple.”
“Calm down.”
She grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. In that E.T. voice I used to love when we were kids, she says, “Ell-i-ot.” Ugh. She also does a great Yoda.
“Stop.” I laugh. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“How? He just gave you his number.”
Scout practically skips to the coffee shop, dragging me by the arm so I keep up.
I should be giddy about this, too, right?
I’ve had a crush on this guy for a while.
Just … a casual crush. The way you pick out the most attractive man to admire when you’re watching a long TV series to make it more interesting.
I always thought my crush on Cute Bookstore Guy was like that.
But I let Scout get excited and dissect the entire conversation over her caramel macchiato anyway. I like seeing her smile. And I like how excited she is for me.
She’s a good friend, and kissing her brother was a shitty thing to do. It can absolutely never happen again.
CONNOR
The house is quiet while Dad assembles a lasagna and Mom chops some salad. I sit at the counter, drinking a glass of water and letting the peace wash over me.
That peace is abruptly demolished the second Scout barrels through the front door.
She’s squealing about something, her heavy boots clomping on the wood floor.
I listen for Elliot’s footsteps, but I won’t hear them over Scout’s.
He usually takes his shoes off when he comes into the house anyway—he isn’t a slob like my sister.
“Scout, honey? Is that you?”
“No, it’s the Boston strangler,” Scout shouts back.
Dad snorts and Mom rolls her eyes. She wipes her hands on a dish cloth before stepping out into the hall.
“Where have you been?”
Scout’s heavy footsteps pause on the steps. “Eli just seduced Cute Bookstore Guy.”
My stomach drops. My brain scrambles for an explanation, some sort of rebuttal. Elliot doesn’t go around seducing people, does he? Maybe the Elliot I knew doesn’t, but College Senior Elliot might.
Mom laughs. “What do you mean? Come in here and tell us about it.”
Eli mumbles something I can’t make out. He must be so embarrassed right now. I have to stop myself from going out there and saving him. I love my sister, but she can be so fucking oblivious sometimes .
“No, Mom. We’ll be down for dinner.”
There go the boots clomping up the stairs again.
Mom’s smiling and shaking her head when she comes back in. “Those two.”
“What happened?” Dad asks. He steps back from his creation after arranging the top lasagna sheet in the dish.
“Eli got a date with some cute bookstore guy or something.” Mom shrugs.
“That’s great,” Dad says.
I keep my gaze carefully trained on the countertop, tracing a silvery vein in the granite.
“Connor, you know you can go on dates while you’re home,” Mom says.
I look up. Dad flashes me a conspiratorial wink. “Leave him alone. He’s not home to date. He’s here to spend time with us old fogies.”
Mom tuts. “He’s a handsome young man. Of course he wants to date.”
I imagine telling them right now that I like to date guys.
What would they say? My parents are not homophobic.
My mom might be judgmental about some things, but if someone’s son came out as gay or bi, there’s no way she would treat it like the gossip about poor Rohan Chbosky’s lie.
She’d probably try to set him up with every eligible queer guy she meets.
My parents didn’t blink an eye when Scout told them that Elliot’s gay.
Mom’s always trying to set him up with guys.
Luckily for him, being away at college saves him most of her matchmaking attempts.
But things are different when it’s your kid.
They have pre-conceived beliefs when it comes to me, and I’d hate to have to ruin them.
Even if Mom’s dream of a big white wedding and 2.
5 kids only had to be altered to include a man instead of a woman, adoption or surrogacy instead of the regular method, it would still be a pivot, and I’ve made them pivot enough when it comes to their dreams for me already.
“Do you have any plans tonight?” Mom asks.
“Nope.”
“Why don’t we go to the movies or something. All of us?”
Dad finishes pouring sauce over the assembled lasagna and takes a step back to assess his handiwork.
“Good luck convincing our little Ruby Gloom to come with us,” he says.
Mom has to shout upstairs three times for Scout to come down for dinner.
She’s at least taken her boots off and tied up her unruly hair.
I really look at her for once and am caught off guard by how much older she looks.
Usually, her wild, curly hair is in her face and she’s scowling at me the way she used to as a teenager.
But she’s starting to look like a woman now, and it’s scary.
The freckles lining the top of her nose, the ones I used to know the pattern of from all our fort building exercises and Disney movie watching marathons under said fort, have changed.
She catches me looking at her and raises an eyebrow. “Is there something on my face?”
“Nope.”
I let my attention fall on Elliot. Big mistake. He looks fucking delectable in his glasses and a casual t-shirt and jeans.
“Eli, I like you with your glasses on,” Mom says. “You haven’t been wearing them recently.”
He blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “I thought I’d give contacts a try. ”