Chapter 15
“Hey, Baby Bardot. Your mom asked me to help you unload the groceries.”
“Don’t do that,” I scold.
Anders is momentarily bemused. “Don’t help you unload the groceries?”
“Don’t call me Baby Bardot. I don’t like it.”
Cocksure as ever, he replies, “Yes you do.”
Yes, I do.
You know that feeling when you’re already running late and you go to grab your favorite necklace and find it tangled into an impossible knot? Then you stand there with your fingers fumbling for what feels like hours, but is probably only a minute or so, trying to untangle the mess. All of a sudden your fingers don’t work and each time you loosen a piece of the knot, the necklace inexplicably gets more tangled. And then you finally do get the knot untangled and the necklace on, only for your, very intentionally, ripped denim shorts to get caught on the dresser drawer knob as you walk out of the bathroom. And then you’re crying but you don’t know why because nothing life altering happened. There were just a few small hurdles that suddenly turned into one very large and irritating red headed man. And why? Why does this man overwhelm me?
Because that’s what Anders does. He overwhelms me.
It is rude, honestly. So rude, and I do not hate it even a little bit.
Yet, here I am, walking away from Anders Olsson for what feels like the millionth time in my life.
Friends? Friends?! What the fuck am I thinking.
I am this close to turning around and jumping into his arms and just saying, “YES!”
But no. Bex—no.
I can’t do this. Not with Anders. It would hurt too much. He means too much.
I walk out into the brisk cold and build up some resolve by the time I get to my old Honda Civic. On the drive back to my apartment, I put on some good ol’ heartbreak jams. Ariana Grande is coming through my headphones, telling me about who she thought she’d end up with, when I unlock the front door.
True to form, Riz is studying at the kitchen table and Luci is next to her, painting her toenails fire engine red.
“Bex! Where have you been?” Luci asks, as she adds some color to her big toe.
“I was at Louie’s. I, uh, ran into Anders there.” I’m trying to be nonchalant as I hang my coat on the rack by the door, but I can tell it’s not working when I look over and see two sets of owl eyes staring back at me.
“Did you talk?” Riz asks.
“Sort of.”
“But you haven’t talked to him since—” Luci begins.
“I know!” I cut her off. “Believe me, I know! God. He’s like a tangled necklace, you know?” I ask, speaking aloud the thoughts I had leaving the bar. “The more time I spend trying to figure him out, the more he confuses me.”
“That actually makes a surprising amount of sense,” Riz responds. She pats the seat next to her. “Come sit down and tell us what the hell happened.”
I’m too amped up to sit down, so I pace back and forth in front of them as the events of the night come tumbling out of my mouth. When I’m finally finished, I stop, grabbing the back of a kitchen chair as I wait for their reaction.
Riz breaks the silence first. “So, let me get this straight. Anders Olsson, who you have been in love with since high school—”
I roll my eyes. “I have not been in love with Anders since high school.”
She ignores my protests and continues. “Told you he wants to be more than friends with you, and you said no? Like, the word ‘no’ came out of your mouth?”
I nod.
“Damn.” She holds up a hand for me to high five, but Luci quickly grabs it and puts it back on the table.
I groan, my head falling to the chair in front of me. “Am I an idiot? This is what I’ve always wanted.”
“You aren’t an idiot,” Luci assures me. “But I am slightly confused. What’s holding you back?”
I spin the chair around and sit down. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I gave him a bunch of made up shit about how Gabe will freak, but I know he’d be fine eventually. I also brought up the fact that he’s, well, sort of my teacher but he said he’s working on that—whatever the hell that means—and if I really boil it down, I think I’m just scared. When Jack broke up with me… that fucking hurt. But I know it would be nothing compared to how I would feel if Anders and I got together and it didn’t work out.”
What I never told anyone was that my last boyfriend, really my only boyfriend, Jack, and I broke up because his feelings were a lot stronger than mine. We got together shortly after I started at Hawthorne, and, in hindsight I was still hung up on Anders. Anders, however, had just graduated and moved to New York City so I knew I needed to get over him. Jack and I met when I accidentally rear ended his car outside of our freshman dorm, what could have potentially been an adorable meet-cute.
On paper, Jack was perfect. My friends loved him, my family loved him. I loved him… kind of. There was never that elusive spark. I figured something was wrong with me, so I just kept at it. Things were fine. He was sweet and funny. It had to be my problem that I never wanted to jump his bones or argue with him about the perfect amount of milk in your cereal.
There was no passion.
At the time, I was so convinced that that was the only way I’d ever be able to love anyone, that I made it work. After about a year, Jack realized he was never going to get all of my heart and he… changed. He became controlling and irrational. He’d have these outbursts and then leave me to wonder if I was imagining the whole thing. His tone became sharp and his kisses punishing. Eventually, Jack came to the conclusion that I would never really be his and he left.
I was devastated. Not because I lost him, but because I was so sure that my fate had been sealed and no one would ever really see me.
No one would ever really know me.
“What if it does work out?” Luci asks, reaching up to wipe a tear that I didn’t realize had leaked out.
I let myself imagine it for a second.
Anders taking me on a date, holding my hand. Kissing my forehead.
Anders waking up next to me, rolling out of bed to grab coffee.
Anders cuddled up on the couch, studying lines as I read a book.
It seems utterly perfect.
“I want that so badly,” I say as a small sob escapes me. “I really, really do.”
Riz chuckles lightly. “Then go get your man, Bex!”
I jump up from my seat, apparently only needing a tiny amount of encouragement to do this thing.
“Well, maybe not right this second.” Luci pulls me back down into my chair. “It is…” She checks the microwave clock. “Midnight. Seems like getting your man is a tomorrow thing. Sleep on it. He’ll still be waiting for you, I guarantee it.”
When I finally get in bed that night, excitement courses through me. I allow myself to feel hope for the first time in a long time.
And damn, it feels nice.