“You always have use for accounting,” Dad disagrees and points toward a leaflet lying on the desk on top of a bunch of fine-grain watercolor blocks. Todd hasn’t noticed it until now. It has a familiar company logo on it, and Todd resists sighing. “My company has an internship program.”
“For the thousandth time, Dad, I’m terrible with math. I barely passed it in high school.”
“Accounting is different from trigonometry,” Dad says, his voice kind and earnest. “I’ll help you. We can sort it out together.”
It hurts, because being an accountant isn’t going to come easy. Anything to do with numbers is a lost cause, and he barely scraped by with passing grades in his math classes in high school. It hurts, because Dad listens to Evan more than he listens to Todd.
“I don’t want to be an accountant!” Todd reaches for his phone as he speaks. “I don’t want to be an accountant. I don’t want to rot away in a cubicle somewhere.”
“It’s a good occupation.” Dad bristles, flinging his arms out.
“Not for me.” Todd types a message to Mela, as he avoids Dad’s face. He has the worst way of looking like a kicked puppy, despite his age.
< Changed my mind. I’m coming with you
He looks away from the three dots at the bottom left corner of the screen and finds Dad still standing in the doorway. “I’m going out. I’ll sleep at Mela’s.”
“It’s family dinner!”
“I forgot and made other plans. Sorry.”
They both know he’s lying, but Dad doesn’t call him out on it. Instead he leaves the room without shutting the door behind him. When Todd looks at his phone again, Mela has replied:
> Awesome! Be at my place in 2 hrs!
That brings the next issue to mind. What the hell does one wear to a frat party?
He puts Sandwich in her cage, knowing all too well that she isn’t happy about it, but he needs to get ready before he can take the subway to Manhattan. He tries on black jeans and a regular T-shirt, but that makes him feel as though he’s trying to become invisible. Instead, he goes for a short-sleeved button-up with a palm tree print and a beanie, because his hair looks like shit. He decides against the Doc Martens and goes for Converse. They might make his feet less sweaty.
Just as he’s about to put his phone in his pocket, Evan calls. Todd swallows and mutes it. Voice mail will get it eventually unless Evan hangs up first. He usually does these days.
Todd really needs a night out to concentrate on anything but school and work. They will occupy his mind for the next few months, but not tonight. Mela wants to see this Jesse guy, and Todd is going to be there with her.
When he reaches her parents' condo in Manhattan, she’s dressed in orange pants and everything else in black. Are her lashes usually that long and thick? Tiny, tiny rhinestones glued to the edge of her eyelids sparkle every time she blinks.
“You look amazing,” he tells her.
“I like the shirt,” she replies. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Anything is better than spending the evening with my dad, when all he wants to do is tell me how horrible all my life choices are.”
Mela snorts. “Your dad is the best, and you know it.”
“Sometimes I think he wants me to be him.”
She gets a twinkle in her eyes when she shrugs and says, “There are worse people. And also, I’m pretty sure your dad just wants you to have the best possible future.”
Rolling his eyes at her, Todd abandons the subject. “So, do you know anyone else who’s going to this thing?”
“No, I wasn’t going until you said you had changed your mind two hours ago.”
“Why would you miss out on a party just because I didn’t feel like going?”
She looks at him like he’s crazy. “I’m not going to a frat party alone if I don’t know anyone there.”
“What did Jesse say?”
“He made a sad face when I had to say no and just now he sent me a smiley face because I told him the plans had changed.”
“He only communicates with emojis?”
“Of course not. That was a summary.”
Todd snorts, knowing that he will get details he doesn’t want if he keeps pushing, and looks around the hallway. Ever since he was little, he has loved coming here, with all the little details that tell of Mela’s Indian heritage. He loves the vivid colors, the warmth. Most of all, he loves the memories he’s created here over the years. For a couple of years in high school, he more or less lived here every weekend that he wasn’t working. It’s a second home by now.
“Where are your parents?” It is way too quiet for them to be home.
“Some charity dinner thing.” Mela shrugs. “You’re staying over, right?”
Nodding, Todd holds out his tote bag. “Unless you’re bringing that Jesse guy home with you.”
“I told you,” Mela says as she rolls her eyes. “I’m going to be your wingman.”
“Good luck with that.” There is no way in hell that Todd is going to hit it off with a guy in a varsity jacket.
“Don’t be so judgmental.”
Before he has a chance to reply, Mela grabs his tote bag from his hands and disappears toward her bedroom. When she emerges, she’s got her purse in one hand and her phone in the other.
“So, I have the directions and everything. It’s in some guy’s parents’ house. Jesse told me to call him when we get there.”
Todd shifts, readjusting his beanie. “Why? Aren’t we gonna be allowed inside otherwise?”
“Of course we are.” Mela grins, as if she isn’t worried about this at all. Knowing her, it probably hadn’t crossed her mind until he brought it up, while Todd has already started preparing himself for five different scenarios where they’re denied and publicly humiliated.
In the cab, she talks a lot about her trip to India, forcing Todd to focus on something other than his doubts about this party. However, as soon as they get out to face a large house with open windows and music that’s a little too loud, Todd wishes he had stayed home for family dinner.
While Mela presses her phone to her ear, he sticks his hands in his pockets. A lot of people are here already. It won’t be difficult for them to lose each other. They should probably set up a meeting spot and time.
“There’s Jesse!” Mela tugs on his arm, and Todd spots a tall black guy exiting the house. He’s not wearing a varsity jacket, but the way his white button-up stretches over his shoulders and arms makes that statement for him.
Jesse wraps her in a hug, and the way his smile warms his entire face tells Todd why she really wanted to come see him tonight.
“You must be Todd,” Jesse says then and turns toward him. He’s got buzzed hair, and his eyes are a few shades lighter than Todd’s, closer to hazel than brown. “I’m Jesse; nice to meet you.”
Todd half-expects either a one-armed hug with really brutal back-thumps or a fist bump to the shoulder. Jesse extends a hand and shakes his without trying to crush his fingers.
“Nice to meet you,” Todd echoes and he’s not lying.
“So the music’s kind of bad,” Jesse explains, as they approach the front door. “But we’re thinking we’ll stay for a bit and then go somewhere else.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mela smiles, and Todd knows that he will be forgotten in two minutes, the way she looks at Jesse. That’s okay.
The house is filled with people, and, sure, there really is a keg in the kitchen and a few dudes are wearing varsity jackets. Other than that, he’s not too out of place in his palm tree shirt. He regrets wearing the beanie, because the number of drunk people in here has made the temperature go beyond that heatwave at the beginning of the summer. It’s a lot darker compared to the fading light outside, and it takes a while for his eyes to adjust. The constant distraction from everyone around him causes him to
lose concentration, and he apologizes five times to people he bumps into on his way to the counter where Jesse’s pouring drinks.
“Beer, Todd?” Jesse offers him a plastic cup.
“Thanks.” Todd accepts it, smiling, both because he knows this guy is going to be important to Mela and because beer will make him less awkward after a while. He looks around at the people talking, at the few who are dancing in the next room, and at the couple already arguing in the staircase to the next floor.
His gaze catches on a guy filling his cup at the nearest table. He’s tall and blond, wearing jeans and an olive-green Henley that does great things to his shoulders and arms. He looks up, catching Todd staring at him, before Todd gets his shit together and tears his gaze away, searching for Mela and Jesse.
Crap, he’s going to end up being that terrible friend following them around all night.
He finds them immersed in conversation on the second floor at the pool table. He sits on the armrest of the nearest couch and concentrates on his beer. It’s pretty good.
From here, he has a decent view of the room. It’s fascinating watching other people interact, especially as they’re much drunker than he is. A guy on the other side of the room is trying desperately to hit on a girl who’s paying more attention to her phone than him. He doesn’t seem to get the hint whatsoever. Todd rolls his eyes as he sips his beer.
For thirty minutes, Todd sits there, watching people and finishing his drink. Just as he’s about to find a game on his phone that he can waste another half hour on, a girl sits on the couch next to him.
“Hello,” she says, smiling and combing her dark hair over her shoulder with her fingers. She has a kind face with round cheeks and a wide smile. “Is this seat taken?”
“No, go ahead.” Todd smiles back and slides his phone into his pocket. He extends his hand, because his parents did try to teach him manners. “I’m Todd.”
“Sarah.”
During the next hour, Todd learns that Sarah is from California and completed her first year at NYU last semester. She misses her boyfriend, who’s still on the other side of the country, and Todd finds himself having a pretty good time. Not nearly as good a time as Mela, though. The personal space between her and Jesse seems to shrink every time he looks over. They are smiling and talking; their drinks stand forgotten at the nearest table. Now, however, someone else is with them. Todd immediately recognizes the blond guy he saw when he got here. He’s laughing at something Mela said, and Todd loses track of his thoughts. He’s got a smile that crinkles his eyes and puts dimples in his cheeks.
Naturally, the guy looks up to find him staring again—and can someone kill him right now please—because now he isn’t just some random dude staring. He’s just become Mela’s creeper friend, instead.
He readjusts his beanie and shifts his attention back to Sarah, as the guy says something to Mela with his gaze still locked on Todd for a second too long. He knows what that usually means. Crap.
“Did you come here by yourself?” he asks Sarah, as she types something on her phone.
“No, but they’re both talking to guys, and I don’t want to be in their way, you know?”
Todd nods. “Oh, I know.”
“You looked like you felt equally out of place, so I figured you’d be nice company.”
Laughing, Todd ignores the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. “Did I look that miserable?”
Sarah knocks her shoulder against his arm. “You looked like you weren’t exactly here for your own sake.”
“I came with my friend. She wanted to meet up with this guy, and now I’m staying out of their hair.” He resists the urge to look over at Mela and Jesse again, not wanting to come off more creepy than necessary.
Sarah opens her mouth to reply when another girl shows up on Todd’s other side. She’s slightly unsteady on her feet and, judging by the way Sarah straightens at the sight of her, she must be one of the friends she came here with.
“There you are! We’ve been looking for you all over the place.” The girl reaches over Todd to grab at Sarah’s arm, as if he isn’t sitting on the armrest like a barrier between them. She’s definitely drunk.
“I’ve been right here,” Sarah says, but she still gets up.
“We’re going to a club where Nathan knows the DJ.”
Todd wants to roll his eyes at that, but he moves his feet out of the way when Sarah is pulled toward the stairs. She waves, looking apologetic, as she’s dragged away. Waving back, Todd looks at his long-empty plastic cup and puts it on the floor next to the couch.
Alone again, he looks around the room—anywhere but in Mela and Jesse’s direction—and establishes that everyone clearly is a lot drunker now than they were when he came. Talking to Sarah has made him forget about drinking, and now he’s lightyears more sober than everyone else.
He brushes dust from his pants and is just about to get up to find something more to drink, when two cups come into view. Looking up, he almost falls off the armrest as he finds the guy he has been caught looking at twice standing in front of him. He’s smiling. Up close like this, he’s even more devastating, making Todd’s stomach feel light.
“Hey,” he says and offers one of the cups. “Brought you something to drink. You seemed like you were out.”
He nods toward the empty one Todd has put on the floor.
“Uh, thanks.” Todd tries to get control of his hands as he accepts the cup and then he’s left awkwardly switching hands, as the guy extends one in a greeting.
“Daniel,” he says, and his fingers are dry and a little cool against Todd’s.
“Todd.”
“Sorry, did you say Todd?”
“Yes, Todd,” Todd says again.
“Nice to meet you, Todd.” Daniel’s smile turns into a little smirk, and Todd, guessing what’s coming next, wants to die. “I saw you looking at me earlier.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Todd blurts and resists the immediate urge to pull his beanie down over his face.
To his relief, Daniel only tips his head back and laughs. “Good to know.”
Wincing, Todd wipes his free hand on his pants. “Sorry, I have this weird tendency to be accidentally rude when I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay. Do you mind if I sit down?”
“No, not at all.” Todd expects him to take Sarah’s empty spot, but instead Daniel removes a few empty bottles from the coffee table and drags it closer to the couch. He sits right in front of Todd so their knees almost touch, and Todd doesn’t know where to look.
Daniel, however, has all his focus on him, and Todd tries not to lose himself in the sharp lines of Daniel’s cheekbones and jaw, the way his hair is so effortlessly on the right side of messy, and the intensity of his eyes. Todd can’t make out what color they are in this light, but he thinks he might get lost if he allows himself to look for too long.
“Actually,” he begins and clears his throat as his voice comes out raspy. “Actually, I didn’t mean to be a creep like that.”
“A creep?” Daniel echoes, a crease forming between his eyebrows.
“You know, with the looking.”
“Come again?”
“With the looking,” Todd repeats.
“I’m obviously not creeped out, since I brought you a drink.”
Oh, right. Todd looks at his cup. His fingers are a little numb from clutching the cold plastic, but he takes a swig all the same to buy himself some time to think.
“That’s true.” It’s all he comes up with, and he stares at his feet. His shoes seem dirty next to Daniel’s, and his gaze locks at the inch of naked skin between the rolled-up cuffs of Daniel’s pants and his shoes. It’s tan. Maybe he’s been abroad during the summer. He comes off as someone who travels. Dragging himself from his thoughts, Todd looks up. “Thanks. Unless it’s poisoned.”
&nb
sp; “Poisoned?” Daniel asks.
Nodding, Todd holds up his mug. “Did you poison it?”
Daniel smirks. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Biting back a smile, Todd plucks at the multicolored ties around his wrist. “Is this your party?”
“Isn’t it?” Daniel says, with a nod.
Crap, the music is so loud. “No, I asked: Is this your party?”
“Sorry, I thought you said it was a great party. No, it’s not my party, I’m on the same swim team as the guy whose parents live here.”
“Shouldn’t you be wearing your varsity jacket?”
“Should I?” Daniel counters, a sudden challenge in his eyes.
“I don’t know.” Todd shrugs. “I guess it would just fit with—” he gesticulates toward Daniel “—the rest of you.”
He gets an exasperated sigh in return and Todd wants to escape.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “As I said, I have this bad tendency to be rude when I don’t know what to say.”
Daniel cocks his head to the side and looks at him. “All right. How about we stick to safe subjects for a bit?”
“Like what?”
“Give me a second,” Daniel says, and moves the table closer. “Sorry, the bad lighting is making it difficult for me to see you properly.”
“Um, okay,” Todd says. Isn’t the whole point of meeting someone like this, that they can’t see you properly, so they think you’re way hotter than you are? Having Daniel so far into his own space is terrifying and exciting all at once.
“What’s your major?” Daniel asks.
“I’m in art school.” Todd shifts in his seat; their knees bump by accident, but Daniel doesn’t move an inch. “You?”
“Poli-sci. My last year. I’m hoping to get into law school.”
For some reason, Todd had expected Daniel to mention becoming a professional athlete. At the same time, law would’ve been his second guess. He knows it’s a difficult road. Despite how predictable it might be, it’s still impressive.
Brush Strokes Page 2
