Page 59 of All Our Almosts

Two Law & Order episodes later, the jury is about to return their verdict when I hear the sound of a key in the lock. Nolan and I jolt up to attention, partially spilling the bowl of chips on the cushion between us as we look towards the sound, then back to each other.

The door slides open. Andy takes one step in before looking up, right at me.

“Hi,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” I return.

Then nothing. We’re frozen in place, eyes locked. Nolan’s gaze darts between us like we’ve gone insane. The jury foreman declares, “We find the defendant… guilty,” before anyone in the room remembers how to speak.

“Okay…” Nolan drawls. “I’m just going to see myself out.”

He stands, grabs his jacket and shoes, and mutters something under his breath as the apartment door shuts. It might be in Italian. I can’t even tell at this point.

Once he’s gone, Andy reanimates. His eyes leave mine as he hangs up his jacket, hastily, clumsily. “I forgot Nolan was coming over,” he says, pulling off his boots and placing them in their spot on the shoe rack. “I kind of thought he was joking.”

“He never jokes about inviting himself somewhere.” My smile feels forced, but it doesn’t matter because Andy isn’t looking at me. “So… how was Lia’s show?”

“Uh… it was good.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

Andy hesitates, then finally joins me in the living room. He sits stiffly in the corner armchair as I send up a prayer: God, please don’t let this ruin our friendship. Please let things go back to normal. If Andy lets me keep living here, I swear I’ll never do something that reckless again. I’ll go to church. I’ll be good forever. Whatever you want.

Lia’s phone call ambush—while possibly the most annoying thing she’s ever done—was a blessing in the end, because at least Andy’s contributions gave me a preview of the conversation to come: We’re not together now. We’re not dating. We won’t be doing it again.

(But what I wouldn’t give to skip over the verbalization of those facts straight into pretending it never happened.)

Andy leans back, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Me either,” I admit. Then, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

I take a deep breath in. “So… you kissed me.”

“Jesus Christ.” Andy falls forward, elbows on knees, clearly ready to die.

“What! I’m sorry! But we have to get it out in the open.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he says to the floor. “I shouldn’t have… God.”

“I mean, don’t apologize. It was…” I start to laugh because I can’t believe what’s coming out of my mouth. “It was really good.”

Andy’s head pops up. He doesn’t say a word but his gaze is frantic—flicking from my eyes to my hands to my lips and back, the two curved lines between his brows deepening as he obviously starts to spiral.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I wave a hand through the air between us. “I know it doesn’t mean we’re together now or anything. I’m just saying, I think we can acknowledge it was a really good kiss. Right? Or am I wrong? Oh no—did you think it was bad?”

Andy’s face lands in his hands, palms rubbing forceful circles over his eyes. “No, it wasn’t bad.”

When he doesn’t say more, I reach forward to squeeze his knee. “Hey, stop worrying so much. Lia’s not actually gonna make you marry me or something. We’re friends and we’re roommates. That’s all. But it happened, right? Whatever was going through our heads at the time, it happened.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, face still buried. “It happened.”