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It’s Jack. Murmuring in my ear, arm resting behind me on the back of the couch. He’s surprisingly close, but I don’t pull back. “Your friends are fun.”
“I figured you’d like them more than me.”
“I kind of do.” I smile, thinking about Millicent, Greg, Olive. Thinking that he has great taste in people. And then notice something on my thigh: a small pouch of almonds. “What’s this?”
“Glycemic level control.” His mouth quirks. “Or you can faint on me. Since it’s a hobby of yours.”
“Did you steal these from Sunny’s cupboard?”
He gives me a look. “I shared an office with her for years, and she once left a urine sample for her doctor on her desk.” He stares at my lips while I laugh silently. “I’m not going through her cupboards.”
I shake my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Olive and Adam looking at me—no, atus, in a way I cannot quite understand. I focus on my almonds, then go in search of a trash can for the wrapper, and...
“Elsie?”
Georgina Sepulveda is in the kitchen, beautiful and kick-ass. She’stall—I didn’t fully grasp how tall when Jack was nearby, dwarfing her.
“So glad you’re here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but Jack was the usual shitlet and refused to give me your number.” She rollsher eyes. “At first I thought he didn’t have it and just didn’t want to admit it. But you’re here, which means he was just hoarding it. Like a dragon. God, Iknewhe’d be like this when he found someone. You and I should become best friends just to spite him.” Her smile is wide and warm, and it’s instantly, violently, mortifyingly present in my mind that the last time we met, I acted like a toddler with little bitch disorder.
“I...” I look around like an idiot, in search of... what? A teleprompter? This is mortally embarrassing. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Just got here. Faculty meeting ran late for no reason—the entire thing could be summarized in two fifteen-second TikToks.” She shrugs, moving closer. I clutch my almond wrapper like it’s a terry cloth monkey.
“Georgina—”
“George, please. Georgina is my mother. And my grandmother. My great-grandmother, too, probably. We should invest in a baby names book.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. My contributions to this conversation are priceless. “Jack’s in there, if you—”
“I know. Like I could miss him when he’s standing next to Adam Carlsen. They’re the Mount Rushmore of STEM academia. Anyway—will you have lunch with me next week? I want to chat with you, but not in Sunny’s home.” She shudders. “I can’t be in here without thinking of the urine sample.”
Professionally, my life sucks a bit. Psychologically, I’m not, as some would say, “healthy.” Musically, I should hire a tuba to follow me around. But on the upside, I’ve beenkilling itin the lunch invite department.
“You want to chat with me,” I repeat. Just to be sure.
“Yes. Partly because Jack is my closest friend, and it would bug him if I stole you from him even just a bit. But mostly because the last time we met, I acted like a total bitch, and I want to make it up to you.”
What? “No, no, I’m the one who ran away like a lunatic. My first reaction to finding out that you’d gotten the job was unforgivable and incredibly messed up.Iacted like a bitch—”
“Yes, you totally did.” George’s smile is triumphant. “To make it up to me, you will let me take you out for lunch.”
“That’s...” I slow-blink. “Very well played.”
“Thank you.” She dusts nonexistent specks off her shoulder, and I laugh.
“I see why Jack likes you so much.”
“I see why Jack likes you more.” Her smile softens. “Next Wednesday okay?”
I nod. “Sounds great.”
Jack and I leave a few minutes later. I exchange numbers with Olive, and Sunny hugs me goodbye while Jack is getting the car, whispering that any urine sample rumors I might have heard have been greatly exaggerated. She also swears that if Jack and I break up, she’ll side with me, because she already likes me more.
I laugh on the doorstep. “It makes me feel guilty for stealing your almonds.”
“Oh, they must be someone else’s. No nuts in this house—they’re, like, so gross.”
In the car, I’m contemplating the idea that Jack researched, bought, and packed a diabetes-friendly snack just for me when he asks, “Where to for dinner?”
