Page 15 of Yours, Unexpectedly

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.

“Anders is in a show this weekend. Want to come see it with me?” Gabe stopped by the house earlier to do laundry and we got sucked into season two of Gilmore Girls.

“Uhm… sure. Would that be weird?”

Gabe shrugs. “Why would it be weird?”

I don’t answer before the next episode starts.

I’m young—I should be able to bounce back from a hangover pretty quickly, but we took a lot of shots last night, and I know I look like shit this morning which is not a look I’m going for if I’m going to be seeing Anders multiple times a week. My crazy curls are poking out of my bun and I’m positive last night’s eyeliner is giving racoon chic this morning.

This is why I don’t go out on a Tuesday.

Anders is up at the front of the classroom looking as hot as ever when I walk in. There’s a coffee sitting next to my normal seat, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been as upset to see anything in my entire life.

It smells so good.

I can tell it’s the dark roast from the Coffee Shop and it’s just sitting there taunting me. Hungover me did not have time to go get coffee this morning, and now someone must have set this coffee down to save their seat—my seat—so I guess I’ll sit somewhere else.

I look up and catch Anders watching me. First I was late and now I’m awkwardly standing in the middle of the aisle staring at a coffee cup. I look back at the coffee and take one more inhale, hoping the caffeinated air will somehow work its magic on me, before turning around and finding a different seat. Even from over here, the sweet aroma mocks me, and I can feel myself scowling involuntarily.

Once I’m settled in my new—and I swear, not as comfortable—seat, my brain finally tunes into what Anders is saying. “This is a high energy game of sorts.” Great. “And you want to pass the energy from one person to the next, using full body movements and eye contact. I will start by saying, ‘Zip’ and using my body language to pass the energy to someone in the circle. The next person passes saying ‘Zap’ and then ‘Zop’ before we start back at ‘Zip,’ hence the name ‘Zip, Zap, Zop.’”

If this is the kind of shit we’ll be doing in this class, I definitely will need some espresso.

“Hope you guys had your coffee this morning!” Anders says this while looking pointedly from me to the coffee sitting on the ground. And honestly, I don’t appreciate his taunting. He must know I was out with Gabe last night.

---