Better

by Carey Heywood

  It just doesn’t seem smart to crush on him, considering I’ll be stuck with him for the next two months. Besides, this trip is supposed to be about finding myself and Ally. What kind of niece am I to already be so distracted? He is Captain Distraction.

  I’m so wrapped up in my brain that I don’t notice the movie has ended until Adam reaches up to stop it, making the credits disappear.

  “So, what did you think?”

  I slip off the headphones. “It was okay,” I answer noncommittally. Then, I look at him. “What about you?”

  He slowly wraps the cord around his headphones and pauses, hands still in midair. “I thought it was total bullshit.”

  The force of his answer catches me off guard. “Why?”

  He loops the cord the last few times around and bends to tuck them into the front pocket of his bag. “There is no way a misunderstanding like that would get so blown out of proportion. All that girl had to do was tell him the truth.”

  I nod, thinking I must have missed that part because I have no idea what he is talking about.

  The girl on the other side of me disagrees. “She was just waiting for the right time.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I mutter, cringing when I realize I said that out loud.

  They both stare at me, so I shrug.

  “That’s just an excuse to put off doing something you don’t want to do.”

  She keeps going, saying something about a dog. I stop listening, and I find myself wondering how Herman is doing in his new home. Does he miss me? I know it’s a good thing that he got adopted since the idea of him being in a kennel and not being able to visit him bugs me.

  I’m still half listening to them argue when I feel my ears pop. The touch screen in front of me has an option to watch the flight path of the plane. It also shows our altitude. I work my jaw in an effort to relieve the pressure in my ears.

  “Gum?” Adam asks, holding out a piece.

  “What flavor is it?”

  “Not seafood,” he teases.

  I make a face. “That’s just gross. Come on, what kind is it?”

  He smirks. “I don’t know. It’s some kind of peppermint.”

  “Sure,” I say, plucking it from his fingers.

  “Is there a flavor you would have said no to?”

  I watch the altitude drop again on the screen. “I don’t like the cinnamon kind. Why?”

  He taps the side of his head. “Just adding it to the list.”

  “Har-har. I’m sure there are things you don’t like to eat.”

  He blinks a couple of times as he thinks about it. “I don’t like overly sweet things but”—he lifts a brow—“I can eat them if I need to.” He bumps his shoulder into mine. “It helps to be flexible when traveling.”

  I nod halfheartedly. The girl next to me uses this as an opportunity to tell Adam all the different kinds of foods she likes.

  I can’t handle it, so I put my headphones back on and find a radio station. The songs are awful, but it’s still better than talking about food. The only problem is since we’re landing soon, there are more announcements from the crew, announcements that blare full volume into the headphones on my ears. After the second one, I pull off my headphones and put them in my bag.

  Adam pauses, like he’s going to say something to me, only he doesn’t.

  When we land, the girl next to us asks what our plans are in London and how long we’ll be in town. I know she’s saying you guys, but her questions are clearly directed to Adam, not me.

  He avoids her eyes, “Just staying overnight. We’re headed to Belgium tomorrow.”

  He’s lying. We’re going to be in London for at least three days.

  I avoid looking at him. It bothers me how convincing he is when he says it. Is he scared he’ll hurt her feelings if he says he doesn’t want to see her while we’re in town? She’s just some random girl on a plane. If he could lie so easily over something so trivial, can I even trust him?

  She’s still undeterred and offers him her business card. I feel bad for her and envy her all at the same time. She’s brave, and that’s one thing I want to be.

  We are separated from her as we make our way through customs. For some reason, I’m nervous once it’s my turn to get my passport stamped. As if I’ve forgotten I’m actually an international drug smuggler, and they’re on to me. I’m also not thrilled with my passport picture. The lighting was weird at the pharmacy where I had it taken. I look even paler than normal, and my hair wasn’t cooperating that day. When the officer does a double take, I can only hope it’s because I don’t look that bad in real life.

  While we wait for the baggage claim carousel to spring to life, I look around for the girl who sat next to me.

  When I don’t see her, I turn to Adam. “Why did you lie to that girl?”

  “What?”

  I glance around for her again. “You know, that girl who was sitting next to me. Why did you tell her we are leaving tomorrow?”

  He shrugged. “I had a feeling she wouldn’t take the hint. If she had known we were going to be here for a couple of days, I think she’d want to meet up.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell her you weren’t interested?” I ask, inching closer to the belt.

  His movements mirror mine. “You don’t think that would have been harsh?”

  I look at my feet. “I don’t think lying was any better.”

  I watch as he shuffles his feet.

  “I don’t see the point in hurting the feelings of some girl I’m never going to see again.”

  I don’t even know why it’s bugging me as much as it is. I understand what he’s saying. I just don’t like that he did it.

  We both jump when a hand clamps down on Adam’s shoulder. When he turns, his face breaks into a wide grin. I stand there while Adam hugs and greets some guy.

  “Abe, this is Aubrey.”

  I put my hand out, but instead, I’m also pulled into a hug. Abe is so tall that it feels like my face is pressed against his stomach. The wool of his blue sweater itches my cheek.

  Once I’m released, we stand together and watch the parade of luggage before us. Adam’s bag comes first, and mine is not too far behind. Abe pulls my bag for me, and I trail after them to the exit.

  Abe has quite a stride, given his long limbs. I fear falling behind, like I did in New York. Instead, I can tell Adam is walking slower than before, causing Abe to slow down as well. I listen to their conversation as we make our way to Abe’s car. Or his mother’s car. Or his mother’s sister’s car. Something like that. He borrowed it from someone to come to collect us.

  It’s fun to watch Abe fold himself into such a small car. He has the driver’s seat pushed all the way back, but his knees still come up a bit on either side of the steering wheel.

  It’s not until we’re on the road that it strikes me that I’m in another country. The sensation of driving on the other side of the road is odd, especially during right turns. It just doesn’t feel right.

  Abe is also a fairly aggressive driver. He gets right on the bumper of the car in front of us and has no issue using his horn to make his presence known.

  Abe shares a place with another roommate, who is on holiday. There is, it turns out, some confusion on Abe’s part as to my relationship with Adam. He assumes we’ll just share his mate’s bed.

  Adam glances back at me while Abe parks. “Don’t worry. Aubrey likes lumpy couches.”

  I discreetly look out the window to avoid his gray gaze. I think back to last night, how the thought of sleeping in his bed affected me. To now be in a car with one of his friends who thought we were a couple. The idea does funny things to my stomach, or maybe it’s just my reaction to the car no longer moving.

  Adam holds the front seat down while I hoist myself out of the bucket-style backseat. I ease myself past him, purposely avoiding touching him.

  While Adam’s place is a minimalist’s dream, Abe’s apartment is a stale cigarette–smelling, cluttered mess. I
take one look at the stained couch and glance at Adam. His mouth twitches like he wants to laugh.

  How can he think this is funny? Shouldn’t he be breaking out in hives just from being here?

  Our bags are both in the main room. I’m trying to figure out how to claim the bedroom when Abe asks if I’m hungry.

  I nod. “I can eat.”

  Adam walks past me to look at something on a bookshelf. “Fish and chips?”

  “Okay—” Abe starts.

  Adam stops him. “Aubrey, will you eat fish and chips?”

  Asshole. I give him the same answer as the night before. “Sure, just hold the fish.”

  I walk over to my bag and tilt my head toward Abe. “Which room is your roommate’s?”

  He gestures past me. I snap the handle up and walk into the room, closing the door behind me. I’m sure that doesn’t make me a great guest, but Adam is annoying, and I need a moment to myself.

  Abe’s roommate’s room turns out to be cleaner than the other parts of the apartment I have seen. The bed is made. I pull the sheets back and sniff them, exhaling with relief that they smell fresh. I flop down onto the bed, careful to let my feet hang off the edge.

  I turn my head toward the door when I hear a knock. “Come in.”

  It’s Adam. He opens the door and leans against the frame. “Are you mad?”

  I hear my dad’s voice in my head, and his words come out of my mouth. “People don’t get mad. Animals do.”

  “So, if you aren’t mad, what are you?” He smirks.

  I deliberately turn my face away from him. “Are you going to make fun of me about what I eat everywhere we go?

  I hear the door close and then his footsteps as he moves closer to the bed. I flip over when I feel the mattress accommodate his weight as he sits on the edge of the bed. His back is to me.

  He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “I’m not trying to be a dick.”

  I want to tell him he’s failing. Instead, I say nothing.

  “Are you going to talk to me?” He turns his head back to look at me.

  I sniff and look up at the ceiling. “Will you stop it with the food stuff?”

  I hear him exhale.

  “I was only joking.”

  Now, I feel bad for making it a big deal. “I’m just sensitive about it. I don’t care what other people do or don’t eat. I don’t understand why it’s a big deal what I do.”

  “Not another word. I promise.”

  I roll to the other side of the bed to get up. “I am hungry.”

  He stands too, turning to face me. He almost smiles. “Let’s see what we can do to fix that.”

  I follow him out of the room, still happy I staked my claim on it.

  Abe is snacking on Skips. He rolls the bag shut and tosses it onto the kitchen counter. “We ready?”

  Adam glances back at me and nods. “What’s good around here?”

  Abe looks at Adam, then me, and then back at Adam. “There’s a pizza place nearby. The pizza is more okay than good, but it’s close. We can walk and go to the pub after.”

  Adam looks at me. “Pizza sound good?”

  I nod and dash back into the room to grab a cross-body purse from my suitcase, and I put my wallet in it. Adam and Abe are waiting for me by the door.

  As we walk to the pizza place, Abe talks animatedly about his new camera or maybe a new lens. The name is a combo of letters and numbers. Adam seems to understand what he’s talking about. He asks to see it later.

  I follow them, noticing Adam still slows his stride, so I don’t have to run to keep up with them. The pizza place is on the corner of the next street.

  We’re quickly seated and order. It isn’t long before we’re served. The promptness of the staff may be the only positive thing about the place. It might be the worst pizza I have ever had. The cheese tastes stale. I’m hungry though, so I manage to finish my slice. I can’t help but notice Adam regarding his slice warily before eating it.

  The pub we go to next is back toward Abe’s flat. It is small, dark, and crowded. I ask for a light ale. I don’t know what the different brands are, other than Guinness, which I already know is too heavy for me. I’m not much of a beer drinker in general. I prefer sweet, fruity, frozen drinks. Those, unfortunately, are not on the menu.

  Adam passes me a glass full of a wheat-colored draft. I take a tentative test sip.

  “You like it?” He watches for my reaction.

  I lick my lips. “Yeah, thanks. What is it?”

  “It’s a Freedom Pilsner.”

  I lift my glass. “To freedom!”

  He presses his lips together, and Abe laughs as we toast. I sip my drink, thinking its name is weirdly fitting for my journey.

  Abe finds us a small table with two chairs. He takes one, and I take the other. Adam stands between us, his hand tilting his glass. I stare at his hand, curious about why he’s doing that. He sets his glass down, and I look up at him. He’s watching me. I break our gaze and take a drink, randomly looking around the bar.

  There’s a guy standing with a group not far from us. He’s handsome in that classic broad-shouldered, strong jaw way. He lifts his glass and smiles at me. I glance back to make sure no one is behind me just to be sure before I smile back. I feel my face get hot as he leaves his friends and walks over to our table.

  “Hi, I’m Nigel,” he says, offering his hand to me.

  Adam’s talking to Abe and misses Nigel’s approach. Adam gives Nigel a confused look, and then Adam sees me smile at Nigel as I shake his hand. Adam rolls his eyes and starts to open his mouth, but I kick him under the table. His eyes flash. He pushes off the table and crosses his arms over his chest, smirking.

  I ignore Adam as best I can. “I’m Aubrey.”

  Nigel smiles. “Are you American?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “On a holiday?” He leans against the table, so he’s between Adam and me.

  Adam is taller than Nigel, and he watches us over his shoulder.

  I tell Nigel that I am, and trying not to be rude, I attempt to introduce Nigel to Adam and Abe. Nigel halfway turns and waves at them before facing me again. I press my lips together to avoid laughing at the expressions on both Adam’s and Abe’s faces.

  “Are you in town for long?”

  I cringe. “Just a couple of days.”

  He leans in, his face close to mine. “Need a tour guide?”

  I can’t help but giggle when Adam’s mouth drops.

  “That’s really nice of you to offer, but I’m all set.” I gesture to Adam and Abe.

  Undeterred, Nigel hands me a business card. “My mobile number is on the back if you change your mind.”

  I watch him walk back over to his friends. When he gets to them, he looks back at me and winks. I play it cool as best I can by nodding, and then I pretend to be really absorbed by the poster on the wall behind Abe.

  “Well, what do you think of that?” Abe asks Adam.

  He shrugs. “You could have said yes to that guy.”

  “I know,” I snap. “Why? You think I thought I needed your permission?”

  He blinks. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Right,” I say before finishing my drink.

  He shakes his head and walks over to the bar to get another round. I gruffly thank him when he returns and passes me my glass.

  “No big deal.” He glances over to where Nigel is standing.

  I wonder if he was talking about Nigel or the drink. “Either way, I can buy the next.”

  He looks over at Abe and then back at me. “We’re probably going to take off after this one. You can buy tomorrow night.”

  “Oh.” I look down at the table and run the pad of my index finger along the ribbed lip of the table.

  “Did you want to stay longer?”

  I shake my head. It makes sense that we are leaving soon. We have a full day of sightseeing planned for tomorrow. I was being silly. It’s just that it’s
my first night in London. I’m underwhelmed so far.

  The planning of this trip consumed me for the last several months, so I might have unrealistic expectations of what to expect. It’s probably the time difference. It’s late. It just doesn’t feel late yet. I focus on finishing my drink, and I half listen to Abe talk about his recent trip to Germany.

  Adam and I walk side by side on the way to Abe’s flat. Abe is behind us, having what sounds like an argument with his girlfriend over the phone. He passes Adam his keys and stays downstairs to finish his conversation.

  I grab my bath stuff and go to wash my face and brush my teeth. When I walk back into my room, I jump when I see Adam in there.

  “What are you doing in here?” I stammer.

  He’s on his knees by the bed, reaching under. “This bed is a trundle. There’s no way I’m sleeping on that sofa.”

  “But I’m sleeping in here,” I argue.

  I watch as he pulls out the trundle. It’s smaller, maybe twin-sized.

  “Yes, and I’m sleeping here.” He makes a wide sweep with his hands over the smaller bed.

  I remember how awkward it felt, sleeping so near him the night before. At least the trundle is low to the ground.

  My mouth drops as he depresses a lever and raises it to the same height as my bed, and the way it’s made, we’ll be face-to-face with maybe an inch separating his bed from mine.

  I gulp. He turns to look at me.

  “Um, I was going to get changed.”

  “Oh, don’t mind me.”

  “Out,” I order him.

  His eyes travel lazily down me, and I shiver. One corner of his mouth pulls up before he turns to leave, closing the door behind him. I hurry over to it and lock it, sagging against it. I was looking forward to a night away from him. I quickly change, unlock the door, and climb into bed. I hear the door open, and I shuffle farther under the covers.

  When I awake the next morning, I’m facing him. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I watch him. He’s shirtless, his sheet draping low across his hips. I lick my lips, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest. I quietly slip out of bed and out of the room, taking my clothes for the day with me.