Page 11 of Twisted Needs

Yep. Girl is drunk.

Charlie is kind of my spirit animal. She was dragged into the group courtesy of her twin brother, Calvin Malloy, who Aviva has been dating for a few years now.

Lee dated my freshman-year roommate, but was awarded full custody of me in the breakup.

“My Anders. You’re finally here,” Charlie squeals, squishing me between her and Aviva.

The pleasant combination of her warm vanilla perfume and the beer on her breath crowds my airspace. She wraps her arms around my neck and leans in for a kiss on my cheek. I make the mistake of turning my head at the wrong moment, and our lips briefly connect. Aviva immediately chokes on her drink. Lee doubles over and slams their fists on the table. Charlie pulls back wearing the expression of someone who has just discovered a new favorite hobby.

“And don’t you forget it, baby,” she smirks, winking at me.

“Charlotte,” Lee sighs, slugging their arm around Charlie when she slides back into the other side of the booth. “Please tell me you didn’t swipe Aviva’s flask while we were in the bathroom.”

“Chillax, Lee Bear. I’ve had two beers,” Charlie rolls her eyes, shifting all her long braids to one side of her shoulder. “I just can’t help myself. I’m in love.”

“With who?” I snort.

Charlie falls in love with someone every twenty minutes. Kind of in a whimsical way, but also because she’s got a severe case of maladaptive daydreaming with an unsettling dedication to making her dreams come true. Last month, it was Aaron the Starbucks Barista. Last week, it was a DILF on the Metro. And now…

“Mickey Rogers,” Aviva cackles.

“No way,” I blurt. “Cal’s teammate?” Mickey Rogers is a younger goalie on the Sentinels. Great guy, a little shy, but he could easily match Charlie’s energy in some opposites-attract kind of way.

Yet another hockey player added to my circle. My brother plays hockey. My best friends are dating hockey players. I live with the captain of an NHL team. It feels like my entire life revolves around the sport, and I haven’t even played it since high school.

“My brother pissed me off,” Charlie shrugs. “So I fucked his teammate.”

I almost spit out my beer. I wish I could say that same sentence…but I digress.

“And now you’re in love,” Lee retorts flatly. Always keeping it real. Our designated voice of reason.

“For now…” Charlie smirks. “Where’s your girlfriend, by the way?”

“Lady Fatin is at a theater rehearsal.”

Aviva lifts her hand in the air and does a princess wave. “Lady Fatin,” she murmurs dramatically, giving the three of us a bow.

Last semester, Fatin wrote and directed a play that was basically an excuse to dress up as a princess with all her theater friends. We’ve been calling her Lady Fatin ever since.

“You guys are making me feel so single right now,” I groan, topping off my glass. “I’m downloading an app.”

“No!” Charlie shouts. “Anders. No. You’re not allowed.”

“Give me your phone,” Lee threatens.

“The devil speaks through you,” Aviva murmurs, shaking her head like a disappointed parent.

“I know, I know.” I put my head down on the table, immediately regretting my decision when my hair literally sticks to the table. “Ugh. Just put me down.”

Aviva pats me on my back. “We’ll find you a man, babe. You just have to put yourself out there.”

“That’s too much effort,” I complain.

But it’s not even that. The problem is that every time I try to imagine myself with anyone, my brain immediately replaces their face with Parker’s, which, I’ll admit, is deeply pathetic and maybe even a little disturbing. There are approximately eight billion people on the planet and somehow I’ve convinced myself that the one man I can’t have is the only one worth wanting. I’m not supposed to want him. We’re supposed to be friends, and nothing more. But sometimes that just feels impossible. Parker has this strange way of reminding me exactly who he is and what he means to me.

Living with him has just made things worse. Sometimes it feels less like we’re roommates and more like we’re playing house without acknowledging it. The biggest problem seems to lie in the fact that we’ve both gotten comfortable existing in this mind-fuck of a limbo.

“You know what I need.” I lift my head back up and swipe my hand down my face as an idea strikes me.