Page 79 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
He hums. “I’m fine. Hurt my foot. No biggie.”
If he’s on pain pills strong enough to make him loopy, that sounds like a biggie. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I wanted you to know that you’re great. Just like the twins. You all saved me.”
“Saved you from what?”
“Trouble is back. Gotta go.” He hangs up, leaving me feeling off kilter and wishing I had Fischer here to steady me.
I was bolder than I thought I would be on Monday night when I asked him why he hadn’t tried to date me, but his answer—both of them, honestly—wasn’t what I expected. I have no idea what to do with his response, so I’ve been trying not to think about it.
I’ve mostly been failing.
I call Brooklyn on my lunch break and fill her in on the Fischer details I was too scared to tell her during our movie night, and then I tell her about Monday’s dinner. (I keep Chad’s weirdness to myself for now. I don’t have the bandwidth to think about it.)
“I told you he was in love with you,” she says, maybe a little too gleefully.
“Uh, no, you didn’t say that, and you’re wrong. He might like me, but there’s no love happening here, Blondie.” Ugh, even I think that sounded completely flimsy, and I facepalm as I pace the sidewalk outside the Ember office building. I needed some sunshine after not seeing it at all yesterday.
“Did you invite him to trivia night?”
I scoff. “I was going to, but then I went and asked why he wouldn’t date me, like an idiot.”
“I don’t think that’s idiotic. It’s brave.”
“Is it though? Because his answer made a lot of sense, and I’m terrified that he really believes he’s incapable of loving me. Desire and attraction aren’t the same as love, and even if he were to kiss me—which I would enjoy immensely—it wouldn’t necessarily mean deep and lasting affection. If there’s no chance of that, what’s the point of pursuing anything more than friendship? What if he’s totally right about keeping his emotional distance?“
Brooklyn waits a second, probably to see if I’m done with my little rant. “Okay, first of all, I don’t think anyone who looks at someone the way Fischer looked at you on Saturday could beincapableof love. That man is completely besotted.”
“That’s a good word.”
She laughs. “Yes, it is. Second of all, relationships go both ways. You can’t let him make decisions for you.”
“But neither can I make him date me if he doesn’t want to.” I know all of this. I’ve read enough love stories to know that it takes both sides coming together to make a relationship work. What I don’t know is how to navigate my own love story because I haven’t read any books about a man who is simultaneously the swooniest guy I’ve ever met (low bar, there) and completely emotionally unavailable. He makes me feel like I’m the only one who truly knows him while he keeps his shield up so high that I’ve barely scratched the surface of who he is.
“Wait,” Brooklyn says. “Did he say he’s incapable of loving in general, or just incapable of lovingyou?”
I freeze. What did he say? “Just love in general, I guess. He did say he was trying, whatever that means.”
“It means you don’t have to worry, Half-pint. Just give him some time to figure things out.”
I don’t want to give him time. I want to know if what I feel for him can turn into something more. “Did you invite Jordan to trivia?” I ask to change the subject.
Brooklyn groans. “Sort of? It’s really complicated right now, so I don’t know if he would even come.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I don’t know how to put it into words.”
“Brooklyn! You can’t leave me hanging like this!”
She says something too quiet for me to hear, which probably means she’s talking to someone else. “Sorry,” she tells me. “I’ve got a student here that I really need to talk to. Invite Fischer to trivia, and everything will be okay. I promise.”
“How can you promise something like that?”
“Because I’m your big sister. That’s our superpower.”
“That’s not a real thing.”
