Page 3 of Six Years
Doro hums for a whole second, thinking. “Nope. No guy would leave his girlfriend behind in a hotel to sitaloneby the beach at night.”
“How do you know that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t, but if one does, he’s not worth it.” Doro wraps both of her hands around my arm, shaking me like I’ve just signed up for a carousel ride or something. “How do you even know he’s gay?” She gasps,loudly. “What if he didn’t understand you were trying to invite him on a date?”
“It’s called thegay-intuition.” Mine is never wrong. Okay, rarely. Mostly… Almost always. God, I am not good at this dating thing. I lean forward and hit my head on the wooden countertop of the bar. “Urgh. I’ve known him for a whole five minutes, Doro. What the hell am I doing?”
I lift my head only to let it drop down against the wood one more time. “I am so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” a manly voice I’ve had yet to hear says. “Though, if you dent the wood, I will take that one back.”
I look up, staring at the bartender across from me. “I asked out a guy without asking him out directly, not even knowing for sure if he’s into guys. Plus, I had just met him five minutes prior and there was likenot a single signthat could’ve told me he was into me. In fact, there were more signs that hewasn’tinto me than there were ones that said he was. I’ve been single for like two years, and I am finally allowing myself to get back into the ring and date, and I dothis. Stupid.” I let my head drop back down against the wood. “Stupid.” Another hit. “Stupid.”
When my forehead hits the counter once again, the bartender chuckles and slides a towel between my head and the wood. “I’ve heard fairytales of love at first sight, but I never actually heard it does happen in real life.”
I groan. “It wasn’tloveat first sight. It was… Jesus. He is so hot with his black hair and black clothes. And he looked so lonely. And he read a fucking porn book that his friend wrote. And he was so—Wow, I am so single.” Or deprived ofnormalpeople in general.
“You want a drink?”
Before I even have the chance to react, I know Doro’s already shaking her head. “He just got back from rehab, let’s not tempt him.”
I turn my head only to glare at her. My sobriety isn’t something I am ashamed of. In fact, I think I should be proud of it. I managed something a huge chunk of people struggle with. It was a bumpy ride, but I did it. Kind of. Iwillcontinue to stay sober now that I am out of the clinic.
I mean, I suppose I do think a drink every once in a while won’t hurt, but deep down, I know it will. Because I will tell myself it’s justonedrink once a month. And then it’s twice a month, then once a week, twice a week, once a day… hourly. Been there before, and I’d rather not go back there.
I hold up my thumb to the bartender when he whistles with what I hope is respect. I don’t know, don’t care either. “What’s your name anyway?” I ask and finally look up, having decided I can’t kiss the countertop with my forehead forever.
“Josh.”
“Of course it is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He flashes me a cheeky smile, currently drying off a glass.
“Nothing bad. But you look like a Josh, so it doesn’t surprise me.” God, what do Joshes even look like? What’s the plural of Josh? Joshes? Joshs? Joshi? More than one Josh? “Dark hair, some stubble, you know?”
“You’ve just described a bunch of menwithoutthe name Josh.”
Perhaps I did.
“Leave him alone, Josh. Luan is heartbroken over his date, who’s not his date, not showing up, okay? How about you offer him some apple juice to drown his feelings in?”
Oh, apple juice. “I’d love that. Apple juice. It makes me happy.”
“I know it does.” My best friend smiles at me, then slaps her hand to my back. Hard.
I sit up in milliseconds, gasping in pain. “Are you fucking—” I turn in my seat, trying to get this pain to stop but it just so vanishes when I look up at the Li’s house and find two someone’s standing on the balcony toward their private beach. A very familiar looking someone being one of them.
Chapter 3
“but you gave the impression / that this was the inception / of something real”—The Way You Felt by Alec Benjamin
June 2022
“He was definitely asking you out,”my sister repeats for the third time in the past twenty minutes.
I’ve been leaning against the railing of my balcony for at least double the time, staring toward the beach party. The tiki bar looks pretty crowded, and yet my eyes stay focused on that curly headed guy. They shouldn’t be able to see me from up here. Well, not to the point where anyone could tell I’mme.
“He was not. That guy doesn’t even know me.” We talked for like five minutes.Hetalked. I ignored him as best as I could.
