Page 6 of Weekends with You

We might have seemed like a bit of a mess, but we actually made a decent pub quiz team. Henry and Jan covered all questions about music, Cal covered business and politics(he’d gotten a political science degree before becoming a career mixologist), Finn covered sports, Raja and Liv had pop culture, I had literature from all my hours spent reading in the shop when it was slow, and Margot covered the arts. 2B or Not 2B was a force, if we could stop yelling over each other long enough for Finn to write down an answer.

As we neared the end, a score update from the host told us we were only one point behind the leading team, and all we had left was a two-point question they had already missed. If we answered correctly, we’d win.

“Your final question,” the host began, “is as follows: What type of flowers symbolize romantic longing?” Seven pairs of eyes shot in my direction, and my breath caught in my throat.

“Oh my god.” Liv looked at me with hopeful, tipsy eyes. “Lucy, this is all you. It’s literally your job. You know this, right?”

My stomach dropped to my feet.They’re all looking at you because you’re a florist, not because they know about your own romantic longing, you idiot.

“Pink camellias!” I shouted at the host, despite the silence in the pub as everyone waited for our response. “Oh god,” I said as soon as I realized I hadn’t consulted the group. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even check with you guys. I am the worst pub quiz teammate.”

The host, having written something on a piece of paper out of our line of vision, interrupted my apology. “All right, the final scores are in, and congratulations are in order for this week’s pub quiz champions, 2B or Not 2B!”

We erupted in cheers before he even got the sentence out, high-fiving one another and clinking glasses.

“You are far from the worst pub quiz teammate,” Henry said over the commotion.

“I told you guys she was brilliant,” Raja said, beaming at me like a proud mom. I tried—and failed—to focus on her face instead of Henry’s.

We finished the last of our drinks and stumbled home, everyone hanging somewhere in the delicate balance between tipsy and battered. The cool night air felt fresh on my skin, giving me a bit of a second wind.

As soon as we walked into the flat, Cal retreated to his room, presumably to call his long-distance girlfriend, who was still living in Scotland. Liv headed to bed on account of an early-morning workout class and Margot went to her studio, claiming she worked best late at night. Jan made for the couch in the second living room, the one that was covered in tapestries and floor cushions and burning incense from his own soul-searching trip to Mumbai.

This left Henry, Finn, Raja, and me to our own devices.

“Fancy another drink on the roof?” Finn looked from face to face with raised eyebrows, and I wanted to hug him for the excuse to extend the night. We confirmed by nodding and following him to the kitchen.

“You do it, Hen,” he said, handing Henry a bottle of gin. “You’re better at it.”

“You’re just a lazy sod, I think,” Henry laughed, accepting the bottle. “Luce, grab those limes and give me a hand, will ya?”

Surely, I could do this like a normal person. Grab the limes, give my roommate a hand, behave like an adult.

Everywhere I stood, I seemed to be in his way, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he pressed dangerously close to my body to reach glasses, cocktail shakers, ice trays. I cut limes at a glacial pace, savoring his closeness. Raja and Finn were engaged in an argument about whetherDie Hardwas a Christmasmovie, so I was sure they didn’t notice whatever was going on over here. If anythingwasgoing on.

This was not the first time I had romanticized a crush. I was prone to convincing myself there was sexual tension where there wasn’t, which generally ended in disappointment. In an effort to keep myself in check, I had to remember we were merely making cocktails in a crowded kitchen, 25 feet from two of our roommates.

But the way Henry gently rested his fingertips on my back to squeeze past me to the sink crushed the heap of rational thoughts I’d been struggling to build.

“Let me get out of your way,” I mumbled, trying to mitigate the dance we’d been doing before I got too clumsy.

“I like you in my way.”

I snapped my head in his direction, equally surprised and flustered by his comment but trying not to show either. The corner of mouth curled up softly on the left side, and I had to look away before the right side caught up and I was left with the full force of his smile.

“To the roof,” he said, breaking the spell and handing us each a cocktail. We climbed the metal staircase single file, bracing against the cold wind as soon as we opened the door.

“Getting a bit cold already, innit?” Henry exhaled hard, presumably to test if he could see his breath.

“And it’s only September. Maybe I shouldn’t have ended things with Maria just because the summer was over,” Finn said. “I could use her for these cold nights, don’t ya think?”

“That’s really nice, Finn,” said Raja. “Using women in place of a space heater. Maria’s a lucky girl.”

“I’m sorry, Raj, when was the last time you had someone to keep your bed warm, hm?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” We all tried to suppress a cackle, which told me the boys knew Raja’s habits as well as I did. Raja loved kissing and telling. In fact, I had a feeling she liked the telling more than the kissing.

“What about you, Lucy?” Finn asked. “Are you one to bring a bloke home from the pub once in a while for a little shag?”

---