Page 20 of Common Goal
Someone to visit galleries and museums with. Someone with a bewitching smile and faded denim eyes.
Eric spent a few more minutes with his painting, pleased that he’d been able to obtain at least one beautiful thing he’d desired this week.
Kyle was on the couch watchingGuy’s Grocery Gameswhen Maria emerged from her bedroom on Thanksgiving morning.
“Uh oh. A Triple G emergency,” she said. “Did your parents call or something?”
Kyle shrugged and pretended to be engrossed in someone trying to make a Thanksgiving dinner using just items from the cereal aisle. The only reason he was out of bed right now was because he’d been jolted awake by his mother calling him. The obligatory Thanksgiving phone call. As usual, it had been stiff and awkward, with Mom asking basic questions about school and the weather, and Kyle answering them without any enthusiasm. He used to be desperate to hear from his parents, hope blooming in his chest each time they called that this would be the time they would...forgive him? Apologize? Listen? And then Kyle had just stopped caring.
But the phone calls still unearthed all sorts of unpleasant feelings.
Maria joined him on the couch. “Sorry,” she said.
“Thanks.” He didn’t need to say more. Maria had heard it all before.
“Good thing you get to go to the best Thanksgiving ever today,” she said cheerfully.
Kyle’s lips curled up at that. The Villanuevas really did host the best Thanksgiving dinners. “I’m going to eat until I explode.”
“That’s the spirit!”
He snuggled into her and they watched the rest of the show together. When it was over, Kyle said, “I want to change my whole life.”
“Wow. I knowGuy’s Grocery Gamesis inspiring, but—”
“I’m serious. What even is my life? I’m working on a degree I don’t even want. I have a crush on my unavailable best friend. I haven’t been in a good relationship...ever?”
“Okay, but let’s look at the positives.”
“Like what? I work in a bar?”
“I mean, sure. You have a job you don’t hate. That’s a big deal!”
“I kind of hate it. Sometimes.” He actually loved his job. It was easily his favorite thing about his life. He just got so frustrated at how the Kingfisher was run sometimes.
“Still better than most people. And you have great friends, including a dream roommate.”
Kyle smiled. “True. Continue.”
“You hang out with NHL players.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“You may be relying on your parents’ generosity, but you have a two-bedroom apartment in Chelsea, dude. That’s pretty sweet.”
“I know. Fuck, I know. I’m really fucking privileged and it’s horrible for me to complain.” God, it was gross for Kyle to whine about his life to someone who was in school to learn how to help some of the most disadvantaged people in New York. Maria was a better person than he’d ever be.
“It’s okay to complain, but we’re being positive right now. Which brings me to my next point: you’re totally hot. You just need to focus that hotness on the right man.”
“Great. If someone wants to tell me who the right man is, I will happily ensnare him.”
She put both hands on his shoulders and stared hard into his eyes. “Not. Kip.”
“I’m trying, okay? I’m...almost over him.”
“You know what would help? A man who isn’t Kip.”
“Iknow.”
