Page 33 of The Wrong Sister

“You’re looking less rage-y! You’re giving off cozy cat vibes right now in that square of sun.”

He hands me a container, sitting down across from me with his own. I open the lid and the steamy scents of fried rice waft out: pan-fried spam, onions, veggies, and warm rice topped with an over-easy egg. There are little bits of crispy rice and the fresh bite of scallions covered in the ooze of broken yolk. It’s heaven in a recyclable cardboard container. Fried rice may be the most perfect breakfast food there is.

“I’m still mad, but mostly because I knew better. I have too much on my plate to sit around pining for Griff until he gets his head out of his ass.” Raff reaches his long arm across my table, bumping my fist with his while he chews. “I thought the fact that he’s attracted to me would change the dynamic in my favor, but even the physical isn’t enough to get him past his thing about appearances or people’s expectations or whatever the fuck his issue is.”

“I was afraid of that. I knew he wanted you, but I was worried that he wouldn’t let himself admit it.”

“You knew?! How? I only figured it out because of the hard-ons.”

“Um, say what now? We can come back to that. Actually, let’s say we did while I ignore it completely and try to scrub it from my brain. I have eyes, Mina. I’ve been watching you two. Even when he was trying to make things work with Catherine I saw how he reacted to you versus how he was around your sister. There was no comparison. Catherine was duty, you were desire. Shoots, that would make a killah mixed media piece! Hold up.” He pulls out his phone and leaves himself a note. I’m used to it. He can’t help when inspiration strikes.

“I don’t know what to do here, Raff. I think, if he’d get out of his own way, this could be something real. Something better than I imagined when I was crushing on him for all those years. But I’m not sure I have it in me to spend forever dealing with his issues to get to that point. I’m not you. I’m not wise or patient or good with all the feelings!”

“Maybe that’s your answer. For now, don’t do anything. You know how you feel, you know where you stand. That has to be enough. If things progress beyond this, it will be because Griffin has done the work to get there. If you want this, give him time. Like you said, you’ve got enough going on already.” He looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. He finishes off his breakfast and lets the conversation go. “Wanna watch an episode ofDarkwhile we digest?”

“That sounds great.”

“Cool-cool. We’re going to go hard today and I don’t want you puking on me. You know I can’t deal with vomit.”

We sit on opposite sides of the couch like we always do, and I miss the comfort and affection I had 24 hours ago. I don’t appreciate that Griff has ruined how I view tv time with Rafferty as well as the rest of the Sunday I had imagined. Thankfully I have to concentrate to follow the nuances of the show while reading the subtitles. That helps keep my mind off of him.

Once our minds have been fully blown by the latest episode it’s exercise time. Rafferty is a taskmaster when it comes to personal training. We do HIIT until I’m drenched in sweat and feel like I’m going to vomit. At least Raff does it with me so I’m not alone in my misery. We both collapse on the ground, but I’m way more winded than he is. Stupid perfect physical specimen. Once I’m able to speak and breathe, I poke him with my elbow to get his attention.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Who says I wanted to talk?”

“Cut the shit, Raff. Why else would you show up at my apartment that early?”

“I texted and you didn’t respond…”

“Uh huh. And obviously, it wasn’t anything important enough to warrant rushing to my apartment because you haven’t mentioned it once. You dealt with me, with Griff, ate breakfast, watchedDark, worked out…”

“Ok, ok. You got me. There wasn’t an emergency and I wasn’t worried about not getting you on the phone.”

“Spill.” I’m now a human puddle of sweat, but at least air is filling my lungs again.

“What if there was a girl?”

“What? Who?” Mentally I jump up in shock. Physically I’m still collapsed on the ground. I think I get my eyebrows to raise though. Something tells me it doesn’t express my shock adequately.

“That’s the thing. I don’t want to say. No specifics.” He’s already sitting up and breathing easily. I hate him.

“This is bullshit already.”

“Deal with it. I’ve listened to you pine over my brother for years.”

“Shit. Proceed.”

“Like I said, what if there’s a girl? I’m into her. The possibility, on my end, has been there for a while. But she doesn’t see me.”

“This sounds strangely familiar.”

“I’ll give you that, but, at the risk of sounding conceited, I’m not used to being invisible in that way. I mean, people getting to know me a little and not wanting more is familiar, but I tend to at least initially get noticed.”

“She doesn’t even know you exist?”

“I didn’t say that. But she doesn’tseeme, as a man, you know?” His expression is pensive as he leans forward, arms crossed over his propped-up legs.

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