Age 21:
From: [email protected]
*Attached picture of puppies in a shelter*
I’m volunteering at a shelter this week for extra credit, and I need you to see the cuteness surrounding me. There is no way I can make it a whole week without taking one of these little guys home. Look at the one with the different colored eyes! He’s practically begging me to adopt him.
Anyway, I need help with picking out a name, so give me all your best suggestions. I’m thinking Deeogee (get it? Like D.O.G.). I know, I’m hilarious.
Anyway, happy Monday, my friend!
Hugs and puppies,
Lil
***
Pulling a chair up to the table, I squished up next to Marigold and waved at Nathan to sit beside me. He looked uncertain, glancing around the table to where Luke sat. Finally, he pulled a chair up beside me and settled in it.
Dropping my elbows to the table, I leaned forward. I’d never been great at dining etiquette. “Have you guys had fun?”
Luke took a sip of his drink—the new Nathan-ator, if I had to guess. I had been hearing a lot about it. “Yeah. I’m really loving the shirts.” All the guys, except Adam, of course, were wearing matching Skywalker shirts.
Luke tipped closer to Layla and gave her a look full of gentleness and compassion. “Have you had a good time?” he asked her in a voice so soft I could barely hear it over the music.
Layla nodded like a bobblehead. “Calla showed me the romance section of every bookstore, and there was a bottomless mimosa spot outside one of our stops. Actually, I don’t know if it was bottomless. All I know is that I never found the bottom of it.”
Luke laughed and patted her hand. “I don’t think you did either.”
Soon enough, Crew and Liam left the group of women sitting at the bar and joined us, each grabbing a spare seat from the surrounding tables and forcing Nathan to scoot his chair closer to me.
Nathan turned to Crew, who had a bright red lipstick stain on his cheek. “How did that go?”
My brother snorted. “All I had to do was show a few pictures of me with my adorable nephews at the park and they were tossing numbers at us like confetti.” He turned to Liam. “And you said it wouldn’t work.”
Liam lowered his brows. “I said your Hawaiian shirt wouldn’t pull.”
Crew looked down. He’d layered the Hawaiian shirt over the Skywalker shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. “They liked me, Hawaiian shirt and all, so suck on that.”
Marigold laughed to my right, a little louder than necessary. “I hope those poor girls know how badly you snore, Liam. I wouldn’t want them awake all night, listening to the water buffalo snoozing next to them.”
Liam smirked, his eyes flashing as he canted forward in his seat. I knew that look all too well. Liam loved to find someone to mess with, to argue with, and Marigold was the easiest one to set off.
“Ahh, I wouldn’t be too worried about them getting any sleep, Goldie.”
Dang. If Marigold had the supernatural power to set a man on fire with a single look, Liam would’ve been a flaming ball of cockiness right now.
Unfortunately, she did not possess such skills. So as retaliation, she just glared at him. “Were you sure to tell them you have to stretch before bed on account of your old man back?”
Liam scoffed, his smirk growing further. “At least I don’t watch Bluey for hours after my kids go to bed.”
Marigold gasped and slapped her palm to her chest. “Bluey is for adults. I wouldn’t expect your pea-brain to understand that.”
Liam practically growled at her as he leaned back, shooting daggers and looking like he was about to punch a wall. The tension between them descended on the table like a thick fog.
Layla faked a gasp. “I love this song.” She turned to Luke. “Let’s dance!”
Luke cocked his head to the side, oblivious. “Do you even know this song?”
Layla narrowed her eyes and elbowed him. “It’s only my favorite song ever. Remember?”
Luke’s eyes widened, then traveled from Liam to Marigold. “Oh yes, yes.” He nodded. “This is a great song.”
The rest of us followed suit, all spouting some form of “Yeah, let’s dance” and “Sure, why not?” in order to avoid the crossfire happening between the divorced couple at the table.
Rachel, Layla’s best friend, moseyed up to where Adam, my mom, and my dad had settled at the jukebox, surely about to take over song selection.
Luke and Layla headed straight to the dance floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying back and forth to the beat of the slower song. Crew also hit the dance floor. But with no partner, he simply shrugged and raised both arms, a beer in one hand and…was that a soft pretzel in the other? Either way, he swayed to the music by himself.
I leaned against the far wall, where I had the perfect view of my siblings and our friends. I couldn’t help but laugh at Marigold and Liam. They were practically nose to nose, leaning over the table, making snarky comments.
Everyone I cared for most was here. Sure, I had friends here and there, but none of them even came close to the people here tonight. Except Shiny. But I’d email him later tonight, and all would be right in the world.
Luke and Layla were still dancing. He was sliding his hand down to the top of her waist and whispering in her ear, and she was throwing her head back in laughter.
I rolled my eyes and scoffed. How it took them three years to figure out what was right in front of them, I’d never know.
Behind me, a throat cleared, and I turned toward the sound. Nathan had his arms crossed, and he was smirking at Luke and Layla.
I smiled at him and turned back. “You would think they’d be sick of each other by now.”
Nathan chuckled. “I guess they’ve been dancing around each other for so long they want to make up for lost time.”
At that exact moment, Luke lowered his hand farther and squeezed Layla’s butt, making her laugh even harder.
“Ugh, gross.” I groaned. There were some things better left unseen.
I turned my back to them, facing Nathan.
He laughed and took a sip from his water bottle. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Oh yeah?” I smirked. “You a big romance guy? You can borrow a couple of my new books if you want.”
“Not necessarily romance, you dork. But having one special person in my life? Finding my other half? Yeah, I want that one day.” He watched Luke and Layla with a mix of envy and desperation. It was honestly precious.
I could picture Nathan settling down with a nice girl; she’d be all put together. Her hair would be perfectly straightened every morning, and she’d never eat cereal while sprawled out on her kitchen floor in her pjs. She’d make gourmet dinners using quinoa and never once miss a credit card payment.
Was it possible to want to slap a figment of one’s imagination? Because if so, homegirl is wrecked. There wasn’t a woman in existence who was worthy of such a caring and funny man. The day he brought home a girl and I had to show her my lipstick knife would be an awkward one.
My stomach growled, pulling me out of my musings about Nathan and his future wife.
“Hey.” I tugged the bottom of his shirt. “Do you want to go to Liberty’s?”
He sighed. “Can you really eat Philly cheese steaks at any hour?”
I nodded with a smile. “Some would say it’s my most impressive skill.”
“Some would say it’s an obsession.”
Nathan and I pulled an Irish goodbye and slipped out of Romfuzzled without stopping to wish the future bride and groom goodnight. Judging by their dancing, they wouldn’t miss us a bit.
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting side by side in Bessie with messy handfuls of Philly cheesesteak sub.
With a sigh, I slumped back in my seat. “I swear they put crack in their sandwiches.” I took an oversized bite, stuffing my cheeks full.
Nathan scanned the sketchy, mostly empty, very dark parking lot. “Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised at that.”
I snorted and elbowed him. “Don’t act like you didn’t eat here for lunch yesterday. I saw the receipt in the trash can.”
“You went through my trash?”
“I didn’t go through it,” I said in my best mocking Nathan tone, throwing in an eye roll. “It was sitting on top when I threw away my own trash, practically begging for me to read it.”
He took another bite of his sandwich and avoided my gaze, basically admitting I was right without coming out and saying it.
“So, any job interviews yet?”
I had been searching my email like a madwoman, as though my spam account would hold a magic job opportunity. Instead, all I’d been met with were Bath and Body Works three-wick candle sales and notifications from real estate websites that a new apartment, which was far beyond my price point, was now available.
“None yet. I’m still hoping to get into a position where I run social media accounts and maybe work with the players. My resume is tiny”—abysmal, really—“but I have tons of photography experience. And maybe my work with Luke and your lessons will help keep me from looking like such a fraud.”
A fraud was exactly what I felt like as I applied for job after job I was nowhere near qualified for. An unskilled impostor. I was trapped in a vicious cycle. I couldn’t get a job without experience, but I couldn’t get the experience necessary without a job.
Nathan set his sandwich on its paper in his lap and wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. He turned to me, and in a tone more serious than I’d ever heard from him, he said, “You don’t actually believe that, right? That you’re an impostor?”
Silence was my only answer. Sure, I knew I’d be good at a job like that, but I wasn’t sure I had what it took to get hired. All I had was a degree and a brother who, thankfully, saw an inkling of potential in me.
I picked at my sandwich, pulling at a pepper so I could hide my disappointment.
“Calla.” Nathan reached over the console and placed two long fingers under my chin, forcing me to turn his way. His deep brown eyes locked on mine, and a wave of comfort and familiarity rushed through me, followed by a contrasting spike of adrenaline and a yearning that got my blood pumping. Like a sugar rush after eating Mom’s coconut cake. A bite of nostalgia and cheer now; a rush of exhilaration later.
“You are not an impostor. You’ve done things in one day that I couldn’t do in a year. You’ve tripled the number of followers for Romfuzzled in only a couple of weeks.”
He was right. I’d seen the bar’s socials grow, but it hadn’t really sunken in. Like my brain wouldn’t let my heart get involved.
I shrugged. “I can’t put that kind of stuff on paper, and they won’t see how amazing I am if I can’t even nail an interview.”
My reply was casual, but Nathan wasn’t letting up.
“Calla, seriously, you have talent. And once the right employer sees that, they’ll snatch you up so fast.”
He sounded so certain. As if he had this vision of success and possessed a confidence that I would reach the potential he’d somehow planted in his mind. And maybe he was right. Maybe I’d luck out and get called for an interview. I had no problem making a good first impression. And I was very good at small talk: weather, school districts, paint colors. You know, the works. If I could just get my foot in the door…
“How do you do that?” I whispered.
“Do what?”
“Make me feel like I can actually do this.”
He snorted. “You can actually do it. I don’t put my faith in things I don’t believe in. But you, Calla, are something worthy of all my confidence.”
Maybe it was the butt-warming seat heaters or the peppers finally kicking in, but my cheeks warmed at how undoubtedly sure of me he was.
Nathan shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich, his attention focused on the building across the parking lot. “And if it takes a while to find a job, that means I get to keep you as a roommate for a while longer, and I have to say, I don’t mind that at all.”
It hit me then. Spending my night in a dimly lit parking lot with Nathan Huxley, laughing so hard my cheeks hurt and stuffing my face full of Philly cheesesteaks, had become one of my favorite pastimes. Watching his chest rise and fall when he chuckled or how he would tilt his head like a puppy when I was telling a story. And the way his eyes filled with such intent and curiosity made my heart race like I’d run up a flight of stairs.
Maybe I needed a few minutes to myself to figure out what that meant.
