Chapter 8
I dreamt about her again last night.
I’m laying on the couch, daydreaming about how perfect it would be to spend a night in with Bex, when Gabe stumbles into the apartment. It’s immediately obvious he’s been out drinking, even though it’s only Tuesday.
“Whatcha been doing, Gabriel?” I ask.
Apparently he hadn’t seen me sitting here because he flies into the air, emitting a high pitched screech I didn’t realize he was capable of.
“Ahh! You scared the shit out of me!”
“Didn’t mean to. I was literally just sitting here.”
He’s still clutching his heart. “Well I wasn’t expecting you to be here!”
“Okay, Gabe, settle down. Which one of us is the actor again?” I laugh and watch him as he walks around the couch and plops into the armchair across from me. “I’ll ask again—whatcha been doing, Gabriel?”
“You weren’t home and you know I get lonely!” he says, hand to his chest as if he’s accusing me of murder. “So, I went down to Louie’s and walked in just in time because some asshole was hitting on Bex at the bar.”
Do not act interested in this information, Anders.
“That’s… um, good? I guess. I mean she can do what she wants, right?” Smooth.
“She said she wanted to get laid, but like hell am I letting that happen with some random at the bar on my watch. That guy had such a punchable face—I don’t know what she was thinking.”
Two realizations hit me at once. One: Bex wants to have sex with someone who is not me. Two: Gabe would be way more upset if he found out about my feelings for Bex than I initially thought he would be.
I’m not sure what to think about these two things. Finding out Bex was in my class almost seemed like a sign from the universe to pursue something I’ve always wanted, but if she went out tonight to find someone to go home with, I totally misread the situation.
Plus, Gabe is the only real friend I’ve ever had and I owe it to myself, and to him, not to fuck that up.
I realize I’ve been quiet for too long when I hear Gabe say, “Sorry, you don’t want to hear about my sister”s sex life.” He shudders. “And honestly, I don’t want to think about it either. So new topic! You coming to Sunday dinner this week?”
I’ve been an honorary guest at many Bardot Sunday dinners. They’re special to me because I never had the kind of family time that the Bardots seem to prioritize. I’m still reeling from this enlightening conversation with Gabe though, so I reply, “Not sure, man. I’ll try to make it happen. Can I let you know in a few days?”
“Sure, but you know Elaine would love to have you. I swear, you’re her favorite child and she didn’t even birth you. Actually… that’s probably why you’re her favorite.”
“She really is the best.” Elaine is exactly what I picture Bex will look like in thirty years; they are the spitting image of each other and I can see where Bex gets her sharp tongue and quick wit. The Bardot matriarch is always levelheaded and full of loving advice. I’m honestly not sure how she keeps her cool around the Bardot siblings and their antics. Although, she has always looked at me in an eerily knowing way—like she can see exactly how I feel about her only daughter, so maybe I’m not giving her enough credit.
“You only say that because you were never on the receiving end of her ‘Oral Sex is the Best Sex’ lecture.” His grim expression tells me this is not a joke.
“Like, one of her class lectures?” Elaine is a Women’s Studies professor at Hawthorne and the reason the Bardot siblings have all attended the university.
“No, like a home lecture,” he says, solemnly.
“I… don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“Just say you’ll come to Sunday dinner.” He stands and stretches his arms above his head. “I’m headed to bed. Night.”
“G’night.” I’ll be up a little longer figuring out how to handle Bex Bardot. I mean, I know how I want to handle her, but how should I is the real question.
Wednesday morning rolls around, which means seeing Bex in class again. I hate to admit that I spent close to fifteen minutes at the Coffee Shop debating whether I should buy her a coffee. I decided yes to the coffee but I’m running a little behind to class.
I fly in the door of the black box theater at 9:02 a.m. and scan the room, but obviously she is running late this morning too. That tracks after seeing what state Gabe came home in last night. I place the coffee next to the seat she sat in on Monday and hop down to the stage to get class started.
I’m explaining the rules of the acting warm up exercise when she walks in. She looks hungover and it’s adorable as fuck. I always thought Bex could use a good disheveling.
She walks over to her seat and pauses. I can see the longing on her face as she stares down at the coffee. She glances at me, and it looks like apology written on her face, before glancing back down at the coffee. Then she abruptly turns and finds a different seat.
Shit.
Maybe getting coffee for her was too forward? I try, and fail, not to overthink it for the next hour.