Page 71 of Yours, Unexpectedly

Anders shoots Gabe a sideways glare. “Anyway”—he picks the knife back up and continues prepping dinner as he answers—“Professor Callahan is actually the one who brought it up first. He saw past my bullshit excuses for why assignments weren’t getting done, rehearsals were being skipped, et cetera, et cetera. He suggested I visit the campus clinic. I was resistant at first. I just assumed everyone’s mind worked the way mine does. But I’m glad I ended up getting the diagnosis. It’s helped me understand myself better and appreciate my neurodivergence. I think I spent a lot of years internally berating myself for not being ‘good enough’ or not just getting something done when it was supposed to get done, and this gave me the answer to the questions I didn’t know to ask.”

“I like your brain,” is my lame response. So much for keeping my mouth in check.

“I like your brain, too.” He smiles back at me. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please.” He pours one and hands it to me. I sip and contemplate some other questions I’ve been curious about. “Can I ask something else?”

“We already established the answer to that question,” Anders retorts.

“Fine, fine.” I roll my eyes and Gabe snorts a laugh. “Why did you decide to stop drinking?”

He pulls out a long piece of pasta out of the boiling pot, letting it cool for a second before tasting to see if it’s done cooking. “Hmm, good question. It kind of goes hand in hand with the ADHD diagnosis.”

“How so?” I ask.

“Well, come to find out, you are more likely to struggle with substance abuse if you have ADHD. Something I was not aware of, obviously. You probably remember Gabe and I partying in undergrad. I know you picked us up on several occasions.” He winks at me. “I didn’t really think of it as that big of an issue. I mean, all college kids drink, right? But it only got worse when we graduated and I moved back to the city.”

“Any particular reason?” I eye Gabe, unsure if Anders is comfortable sharing in front of him.

“Don’t worry about Gabe.” Anders reads my mind. “He was there for all of this so it’s not anything he hasn’t heard before or seen with his own eyes.” He pats my brother on the back a few times. “In fact, I wouldn’t have made the progress that I’ve made if it wasn’t for him.”

“You did that all on your own,” Gabe replies, in a rare moment of sincerity.

“We disagree on that, but back to your question. When I graduated and moved back to New York, I originally had an apartment with a couple of people from my undergrad program. We were all grinding—doing the whole audition thing. You know, cross your fingers, maybe go to a dance call, work a job that pays minimum wage to keep our two bedroom apartment with four people living in it.”

“Why did you have to grind? I mean, based on last weekend, it’s not like your family is lacking in resources.”

“Yeah, but those are my family’s resources. Not mine. I really wanted to prove that I could do this on my own. And Erik has never seen theater or acting as a legitimate career, so he wasn’t exactly jumping in to help me succeed.”

I nod because that makes complete sense. Anders has never seemed like the kind of person to ride on someone else’s coattails.

“The grind was a lot harder than I expected it to be though. In a career where you are constantly rejected—I just, well… things got dark. I didn’t realize another aspect of ADHD was rejection sensitivity, and I didn’t have any real coping mechanisms to help. So I drank. And I hid it from everyone. I’d pour a little whiskey into my coffee in the morning, sneak drinks at the restaurant I was working at, down bottles of wine on my own back at home. I was showing up drunk to auditions, I’m sure blacklisting myself all across the city. I eventually got fired from my job as a waiter, and my roommates kicked me out so I did go back home for a bit. I think Erik saw it as his golden opportunity to talk me into giving up.” His laugh is humorless.

“His plan backfired though. I just spiraled further instead of ‘getting my shit together’ as he so eloquently put it. After a while, it was bad enough that even Erik and Alice gave up on me. I was an embarrassment to the family, so they kicked me out and disinherited me. Erik still holds my inheritance over my head, as if he thinks he can mold me into the son he wishes he had if he just threatens me with money. But I don’t want a penny from them, never will.”

“And that’s where I came in,” Gabe interjects, sensing Anders’ distress. “I got a call one night from my good buddy Anders. Obviously, the only choice was to move him back here with me because I missed him, dammit!” Anders laughs at this, a little of his normal light coming back into his eyes.

“I missed you too, Gabe.”

“Of course you did. And you came back, stopped drinking, reconnected with Callahan, went to therapy. You did the hard work of putting your life back together—I just made sure you had a roof over your head.”

“You just stopped? No rehab or anything?” I ask.

“Well, I started attending an AA group here in the area, with Gabe’s encouragement. Callahan is actually my sponsor and said he wouldn’t mind me sharing with you. He’s twenty years sober, something he revealed to me only when I came back in such a dysregulated state. He could tell there was a problem, and I admitted to thinking about attending an AA meeting. He stepped in and has been there every step of the way.”

“I’ve said this before, but I’m really proud of you, Anders. And thank you for sharing all of this with me. I know these are probably not your favorite memories to revisit.” And I really am grateful. This man continues to catch me by surprise. Someone I’ve spent years fantasizing about and he’s even better than anything my imagination could have conjured up.

Anders walks around the counter and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “I’d do it over and over again if it led me here to you, Bex,” he whispers.

“The weirdest part of tonight is how normal this is,” Gabe says, gesturing between me and Anders. “I really was worried it would be awkward as hell, but seeing the two of you together… you’re just you. Two of my favorite people who are now each other’s favorite people.” He sucks in a breath of realization, a look of horror taking over his face. “Oh my God, I’m being replaced!”

“Don’t worry, Gabe. No one could ever replace you,” Anders says, throwing a wink my way as he finishes up plating our food and moves to set the table.

Gabe doesn’t seem convinced, however, judging by skeptical looks he throws my way all evening, as if he’s trying to figure out how to claw his way back up to the top in Anders’ eyes.

I think I like it up here, though, so he’ll just have to settle for second place.

Hawthorne is not that big, but it is big enough to avoid people that you want to avoid. I should have known better than to come to this side of campus on my run because there she is.

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