Page 39 of Weekends with You

I ignored her, but I knew we’d be revisiting it later. We bothgot changed into our coziest sweats, reconvening on the couch with a few beers and the Deliveroo app.

“Chinese?” she asked.

“We did that last week. Curry?”

“That good place is closed for renovations. Pizza?”

I narrowed my eyes. “With what on it?”

“Those hot peppers they always have and extra cheese? From that place across from Zara?”

“Atta girl. You order. I’ll Venmo.”

We settled into the couch, cracking beer tabs and staring at the blank projector screen.

“Bummer about Henry, huh?” she asked after a while.

I took a long sip, thinking of something to say. “Yeah, bummer indeed” was all I could come up with.

“What’s going on there, Lu? I mean, is this becoming something real or what?”

I resisted the urge to groan at the top of my lungs.

“No, definitely not,” I said. “But I didn’t expect to get so invested. At the beginning I was just intrigued, thought I was having fun, but I think now I might be in over my head.”

She nodded, seemingly agreeing. “Try to stay afloat,” she said. “I don’t like the idea of you losing yourself in someone who isn’t totally lost in you, you know?”

“You don’t think he’s into me?” I asked, surprising myself with how hurt I sounded.

“I didn’t say I don’t think he’s into you. I’m just saying to keep your head about you, that’s all. You’re different people, and you want different things, and sometimes that’s really tricky. But of course I think he’s into you, because I think everyone is into you, and if they aren’t, I think they should be.”

I was glad she ended on a lighter note, because the idea that Henry might not be into me, or that we might be a terriblematch, was bringing an unwelcome heat to the back of my eyes.

“Okay, we need to stop talking about this,” I said. “It’s vaguely depressing, and I need to move on. New Year’s is the perfect time to do so.”

“Because it’s so romantic and you can shag someone else in your studio instead?” She waggled her perfect brows.

“For the millionth time, we did not shag in my studio. And no, I do not plan on chatting anyone up this weekend, or maybe ever again. I just mean the holiday is about new beginnings or whatever. Fresh start.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, leaning back into the couch and closing her eyes while she sipped. We still hadn’t bothered to turn Netflix on, but I didn’t mind. Once we stopped talking about Hen, I welcomed the silence.

Raj grabbed the pizza when it arrived and brought it to the couch.

“What are your plans for the new year?” I said, digging in.

“Oh, you know, finish my degree, get a job, the usual.”

“How do you do it, Raj?”

“Do what?”

“You’re so confident in your future. You never seem stressed about school, you’re not worried about getting a job—it all seems so easy for you.”

“I know what I’m good at,” she said, as if it were that simple. “And I know what I like. And so do you, so there’s no reason you can’t also be this confident. Except for the fact I am ridiculously good-looking, but you’ll be all right, I suppose.”

“Raj!”

“I’m kidding, would you relax?”

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