Page 62 of All Our Almosts

“I was trying to protect him, Soph.” She hits me with a genuinely somber expression, and I realize she’s telling the God’s honest truth. “And you. I was picturing the two of you starting some half-assed friends-with-benefits thing, and it’s all fun and games until it's not. One of you is in love, and the other is just there for a good time, and suddenly our friendships are all fucked.”

I exhale, and it’s an echo of the fears she just voiced. “Yeah, that would be awful.”

“But if you are serious about starting something with him…” Lia slowly pulls a black dress out from the bunch before her. It has a structured top with half-sleeves and a collared V-neck, almost like a blazer. The bottom is a sensible knee-length skirt. She holds it in front of herself with an eyebrow raised like what do you think?

A tinny announcement sounds through the loudspeakers. “The Garment District will be closing in ten minutes. All customers please make your way to check out.”

I grab the dress out of Lia’s hands. “Time to make a choice, I guess.”

The living room is empty when I get home. I kick off my shoes, toss my purse over the back of the couch, and—finding uninspiring options in the fridge—decide on a well-rounded dinner of chips and salsa.

Just when I shove the first chip in my mouth, Andy surprises me by walking out of his room. He obviously didn’t hear me come in, and now stands frozen in his doorway, blinking.

His posture is tense. He looks nervous. I feel nervous. Everything sucks.

I swallow my chip, then say, “Hi.”

He replies, “Hi.”

“How was your day?”

“Okay.”

With no idea what to say next, I dip a fresh chip in the jar of salsa and extend it towards him. He looks like he has to gear himself up just to come accept it, but then crosses over to me, sitting down across the table and popping it into his mouth.

How did this get so weird between us? Maybe Lia’s suggestion has some merit.

We both chew through a few more seconds of silence before Andy asks, “How about your day?”

“It was busy, but good. I think we’re ready for the event, but I’m still nervous.”

“Don’t be. Everything’s already done, right?”

“Well, almost,” I say. “I actually have to give some remarks at the launch. But once that’s done I’m planning to chug at least three glasses of complementary champagne immediately.”

“You’re speaking at the event?”

“Yeah.” This is my opening and I’m going for it. “By the way, I’m allowed to bring a guest with me if you’re free tomorrow at 7:30. No pressure, I know it’s last minute.” I look away from him, dipping another chip to give him time to think.

“You’re inviting me?”

“Yes, but if you don’t want to come you don’t have to. Really, it’s fine.”

“No, yes, I—I’d love to come. I’ll be there.” He sounds genuinely excited and I can feel my self-consciousness evaporating. “Thanks for the invitation.”

“Thanks for saying yes.” Our eyes meet across the table, and it feels like we’re halfway back to normal again.

Progress.

19

The apartment door slams open as I barrel in, snow boots pounding salt into the hardwood floor.

“I’m late! I have to change! Gosh darn it!” I throw down my purse and charge straight into my room. “The fricking train… I swear every train except the B came in like ten times before a single B showed up.” I dump a basket of beauty supplies out onto my bed, then frantically rummage through them. “I was doing mental calculus like should I take the C to Coolidge Corner and walk? Should I take the Red Line to Harvard and transfer to a bus? But every time I thought about getting on a different train I was like no, surely the next one will be a B. And look at where it got me! Now I just got here and we have to leave in like 20 minutes and I haven’t even started doing my hair. Why is life this way?”

Andy comes up to my open door and says, with uncanny calm, “We can take an Uber. You have time.”

“I still don’t know what I’m even doing with my hair.” I whip around—where the heck did I put my curling iron?—and catch a glimpse of Andy in the doorway. I’d been in such a rush on my way in that I barely glanced at him, but now…