Page 46 of Drawn Together
“I’m so sorry. If you ever need to talk to someone who never got to meet him, I’m here.”
She nods. “Thanks.”
I turn back to the window, and she turns back toward her room, leaving me to soak that information in.
Then, a blip of a sentence. So tiny and quiet, I almost miss it. “His favorite color was green,” she whispers into the cool air, and I note to myself to notice all things green around me from here on out.
Lennon and I don’t talk about Ryan again for the next couple days, but every time I see something green in the bookstore, I wonder if I should push it to the back shelf where no one goes—except Edith and her ex-husband when they go to make out, or someone lost on their way to the bathroom.
We do, however, talk aboutThe Fireflies of Embermoor. Often. She has completely devoured the series since we last spoke, and now, I am reading three books a week, as we are re-reading the series together now.
“And Archer? Didn’t you love him?” I gush at the thought of my first book boyfriend crush at the ripe age of fourteen. Wavy blonde hair and a crooked grin, a tiny scar on his right cheek. Archer from the past was every reading girl's dream boyfriend in Whistle Bay.
Lennon’s nose scrunches. “No, but nerdy guys have never been my type.”
“What is your type?”
“Just Stephan.” She pops her shoulders. “What about you?”
“I don’t know if I have a type.” I think about it for a moment. I’ve been attracted to multiple men—that much is the easy part. Actually, I think it’s harder to find someone unattractive than the other way around. Everyone has something in them that I can get on board with. But, what’s the kind of guy that sticks longer than a fleeting moment in an airport or on the subway? Big brains, wild hair, slightly condescending in a flirty, but efficient way.
“I think I like someone who is a little smarter than me. Is that weird?”
I blame it all on my very first sexual awakening: Clippy. Something about a man with all the answers just really does it for me.
“Like Cliff?”
I look over to our other coworker. He is hunched over a bowl of cereal—no idea where he got that from—and trying to read his sixth book about bio-engineered bears coming to life to haunt bees in the forest. His very long beard is beginning to trail into the bowl's milk.
“No, not like Cliff.”
“Well,” we each stack the next row of books, “if you are looking for a rebound—”
“Is it considered a rebound if it’s been over two years?”
“Have you kissed anyone since?”
Speaking of mortifying…
“No.”
“Then yes, I think the first one is a rebound. And if you are looking for one, you should come out with us this weekend.”
“Out?”
“There’s a cool bar down by 22nd that has a cowboy theme. We used to go all the time, but it’s been a while. Fletcher must have cabin fever from working from home or something, because he keeps suggesting ways for us all to hang out.” She heaves another stack of books like they are feathers. “But, if you are looking for someone, it’s a good place.”
Am I? Looking for someone, that is. I don’t know.
On one hand, companionship sounds lovely. Not to mention, it’s been so long since I’ve been touched. I’m worried my libido is going to pack up her bags and jump ship. I mean, half of Sex and the City is sex, right? I wouldn’t know, considering I’ve never watched it, but it’s right there in the title.
On the other hand, I don't think I can comfortably jump into a full-fledged relationship with a stranger right now. And even if Iwanted to, how can I convince another person I’m worth sticking around for?
I’m jealous of other people, just because they don’t have to deal with me all the time.
So, I shrug. “I don’t know if I want a boyfriend right now.”
Lennon smirks. “I didn’t necessarily mean a boyfriend.”
