"And they've got that restaurant thing going too," I said. "I'm excited about that one, because I hear we get to test the menu."
"I was already jealous that Emily got to do that, now you're in on the action too," Ethan said.
"Hey, just think… if you end up moving there, you can eat at the restaurant anytime you want," I said.
"Yeah but I'll have to pay for it then. You guys get to try everything for free."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot it'd be terrible if you had to spend some of your millions on a plate of food cooked by a hard working family."
Ethan laughed and punched me on the shoulder. I loved to give him a hard time about being cheap since it was one of the only things he did worth making fun of.
"I think Brit's working with them on the restaurant," I added, in a last-ditch effort to bring the conversation around to her.
"She is, and Emily says it's going to be really cool. I think she's pretty good."
Again with things I knew already. Thanks Ethan.
Just then, Annie, the owner of the diner, came up behind us with two oversized jester hats. She put one on my head and one on Ethan's. "I'd like to have everyone's attention," she shouted. The restaurant got quiet, and everyone looked at Annie as she continued. "These are two of our best customers, and a little mouse told me that at least one of them would be leaving us here soon." She was so dramatic with her delivery of the simple words that moans of disappointment and protest came from the crowd even though none of them knew us. "Now, here's the thing… we usually leave them alone, and let them eat in peace, but today's different. I want you guys to help me keep an eye on Ethan and Josh here. If any of you see them take off their hat for any reason, they have to get up and dance with us on the next song. Seriously boys," she said, pointing at us, "if the hat comes off, you're dancing."
I sighed and shook my head as I took both hands and pulled the hat securely onto my head. I was prepared to fight in order to keep that thing on my head.
Before we finished eating, Ethan (the person I thought was my friend) reached up and plucked the hat off my head and sat it on the bar beside me. I panicked, instantly wanting to snatch it up and put it back where it was. There was no hope that it went unnoticed. The second he did it, a mob of tattle-tales immediately started humming and pointing.
It was a no brainer that he was going down with me. Without even thinking about it, I reached over and took the hat off his head and set it next to mine. More humming and pointing. It was only after I took his hat off that I realized the harsher punishment for him would have been to leave his hat on and deprive him of the opportunity to dance. He was grinning like a sly cat as he took the last few bites of his food. I was too nervous to eat any more. I'd seen enough of the antics at Annie's Diner to know I wasn't leaving here without dancing first. I hoped I could get away with blending into the background while Ethan did whatever show stopping moves he had worked up since the fifth grade. Annie proceeded to make Ethan and me stand up and dance to a song along with a few of the girls who worked there.
Since the whole situation was a nightmare to me, it pretty well passed in a blur. Ethan would later remark that I was actually a pretty good dancer. Even though that wasn't an ideal compliment, it made me feel a little better knowing I hadn't totally embarrassed myself up there. I was just glad the whole thing was over, and if I hadn't secretly had a little fun, he'd be paying for that somehow.
Chapter 7
Brit
I couldn't believe we were still just in the middle of June. It had been two months since I saw the whole crew in Portland, but I'd been in contact with them constantly regarding the restaurant project. The paintings were coming together. I'd adapted an assembly line of sorts that was helping keep a uniformity to the paintings I might not otherwise be able to pull off. I was doing layer upon layer of different mediums creating a collage effect. The feel of the restaurant was rustic and eclectic, and I tried to balance bright with beat up for the look of the art. I'd been texting photos of the process to Gretchen and Tonia and they both had very encouraging words to say about my work. I was really thankful for that since it was such a huge undertaking.
I'd been working so hard on the project and school that the last two months felt more like two years. It was Friday night and I wanted to blow off some steam. Don't get all excited. My idea of blowing off steam was pretty tame compared to most. My friend Trevor got a spot at the Art Walk that was going on that night, and I was planning on going there to help him out. Earlier in the week, I helped him choose twenty of his favorite pieces. It wasn't too hard since he only had twenty-six in his portfolio. Most of them were watercolor, hanging in glass-front frames. Five or six of them were oil on canvas. Those were framed but left open.
It was a cool collection. Trevor loved to paint real things. He would just set up a scene in his apartment and paint it. The trick was setting up an interesting scene. Trevor was great at that. I thought he'd do well with his art once he got noticed—although that probably went for most of my friends since I'd met some really talented people at school.
I took a deep breath as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I'd just finished getting ready for Trevor's showing, and the sigh was because I didn't love how my hair was looking lately. I had long, wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes. I didn't think I was unappealing to look at necessarily, I just felt like my appearance didn't really reflect my taste. I definitely wasn't being artistic with my hair or makeup, and as I looked in the mirror, I thought maybe that was something I should remedy.
I made up my mind right then to make an appointment at a hair salon—which was something I never, ever did. Ever. When you're in art school there's always someone hanging around who "knows how to cut hair", and until now, amateur haircuts had done the trick. Not anymore, baby.
When I was choosing my outfit for the Art Walk that night, I was tempted for a fraction of a second to wear one of my three favorite T-shirts. In case you were wondering… Number three: white with a rainbow stripe going across the chest. Number two: blue with British flag on front. Number one: mind the gap. The funny thing about that T-shirt was that people asked me if it had something to do with the Gap store. So, the whole point of the T-shirt was to make a joke about a misunderstanding about my name, and the T-shirt itself was the victim of misunderstanding.
I wore none of my favorite, broken-in T-shirts that night—even though I was sorely tempted to. I chose a pair of black, dressy short-shorts with an off-white, billowy top and some shoes that strapped up my ankle. I felt good in spite of realizing my hair needed help in the near future.
Art Walk started at six o'clock, but I got to the library early to help Trevor set up. Each artist was encouraged to have some sort of reception table with information about their work. He was also told he could bring some light finger foods for the people who stopped by his table if he wanted.
That's where I came in. I, along with a girl named Lou, helped Trevor with his table, snacks, and business cards. Lou and I set up the reception area while he went around making sure everything was hung where he wanted it.
"So, I heard you were graduating early and leaving us," Lou said. It was the first thing any of my friends said to me recently—well, since I decided to take the job in Los Angeles. They were all really curious about where I was going, what my job would be, and how I got it.
"It's just a semester early, and I'd been planning for that before I even knew about the job."
"So, you are going?" she asked.
"I'm afraid the rumors are true," I said with a regretful tilt of my head. "I'm excited about the job, though. I didn't think I would be looking forward to it this much."
"Trevor told me a little bit about it," she said, smiling. "I'm excited for you. I think it's the perfect job for you."
Lou was a tougher-than-nails type of chick with a rock-a-billy vibe going on. She could come across as a little brash at times, but every once in a while she'd say sweet, touching things.
&nbs
p; "I'm really gonna miss you guys," I said. "It would be a much harder move if I didn't have such a good group to go to in L.A."
"Trevor told me that too," she said. "He said he got to meet them in Portland and he understood why you were going. That won't make it any easier though, Brit. He is going to take it really hard when you leave."
My gut clinched with a feeling of guilt and maybe a little dread. I really hated to hear that. Of course I knew Trevor was going to be affected by me moving. I was going to be affected too. I would miss my friends. I just hated living with guilt and I didn't want any of that involved when I moved.
"He'll be fine," I said. "He can come visit anytime."
"No, I don't think you get what I'm saying," she said, measuring me as she drew out the words.
I laughed. "What? You mean me, me and Trevor? No, no, no, no, no, no," I said. "We're not even… we would never… it's not like that with us."
"I know it's not like that right now," she said. "That's what I'm saying. I can't believe you're not able to see how Trevor feels about you."
"What?" I laughed. "That's ludicrous, Trevor's… I thought Trevor was… you know."
"What?" she asked.
"You know, I thought maybe he didn't like girls."
Lou cracked up laughing so loud my face turned bright red.
"Shut-up Lou," I said. "What's so funny about that?"
"Trevor, gay? I'm sorry, but that's hilarious, Brit."
I was genuinely offended that that was so funny to her, but I was mostly embarrassed about being so off base about one of my best friends.
Lou looked at me like she couldn't quite believe I was so dense. "Have you ever seen him with a guy, Brit? Does he ever go out with, or even talk about guys?"
"Nooo," I said in a less than patient tone, "but I haven't seen him with or heard him talk about girls either, Lou."
"That's because he's usually talking about or hanging out with you," Lou said.
I fell silent at that.
Stranger things had happened, but I just didn't think Trevor thought of us like that. I shrugged it off, trying to get on to a new topic before he walked by and overheard… what a nightmare that would be.
"Ya old lady working?" Trevor said, coming up from behind us, making me thankful I'd had the sense to shut-up a second ago. "Thank you both so much for helping me out."
"Trevor, I was just telling Brit about that movie we watched the other night. Who's the main actress in that… the one you think's so hot? We couldn't think of her name."
"You mean Jennifer Garner?" he asked.
"Yessss!" Lou said.
"I've always had a crush on her," Trevor said, adding insult to injury.
Lou looked at me with a satisfied smirk that Trevor thankfully didn't see. The worst part about the exchange that had just occurred, and the part that made it such a double whammy was that I'd been told I looked like Jennifer Garner in the past, and Trevor knew that. Obviously Lou did too. My face was burning hot again.
Trevor went off to make sure he'd chosen wisely for the first painting people would see, and again Lou and I were left alone. "I'm sorry to do that to you," she said. "I just thought you should see for yourself that—"
"Even if I did see it, there's nothing I could do about it now," I said. "I'm leaving. I already made my decision."
"I know, sweetie," she said. She almost sounded sad. "I just thought you should be aware of his feelings so you weren't accidently insensitive."
"Oh my God," I said putting my head in my hand. "I don't even know what to say."
"Hopefully nothing, because he's coming up from your left right now," she whispered.
Trevor came up beside me and put an arm around my shoulders, and I couldn't help but stiffen a little bit at his touch. "You got a headache?" he asked.
"No, no. I'm just tired," I said. That was my favorite excuse.
"I told you not to push too hard on that restaurant job. You have until October."
"You know how I am once I start a project. I just go crazy on it till it's finished," I said.
"Yeah, but you have to pace yourself on a project that big, baby. Those canvases are basically murals."
How was it that Trevor called me baby all the time, and today was the first day it sounded like that?
"I know. I'm slowing down a little bit now that I have the foundations down," I said. I ignored the pet name he'd used and the awkwardness I now felt about it.
"Well, I for one am glad to see you out in public," he continued. "You've been holed up in your apartment for the past two months."
I didn't feel like I had the ability to form a decent response to Trevor. I was still reeling from the news that he might have some feelings for me. I was literally speechless, tripping over sentences in my head, unable to choose one to say out loud. "Trevor I love you as a friend but nothing more," was absolutely not an option, even though it most accurately described my feelings at that moment.
"I'm glad to be out of my hole," I said. I smiled and shrugged one shoulder, trying for casual and unaffected.
"Come see what you think," he said, reaching out to grab my hand. I was a little jumpy at first, but took his hand and let him lead me to the front of the display. He'd chosen a watercolor piece called Still Life with Marbles. It was colorful and whimsical—a perfect first piece.
"I love it," I said. "I was actually hoping you'd pick that one. I think it's my favorite."
"It's yours then," Trevor said. He regarded me with a warm smile.
"Oh, no Trevor, I couldn't—"
"It's yours. I was going to give it to you anyway. It was either that one or Still Life with Boots."
"I love that one too," I said, raising a hand to my chin, pretending to contemplate my options.
Trevor laughed. "Oh, so a second ago you didn't even want one, and now you're trying for two?"
"I'm not about to pass it up, but you're absolutely gonna let me pay you for it," I said.
"I would be totally offended if you even tried. It's a present to remember me by."
I found to my own chagrin that I was speechless for the second time. I was never so thankful to hear Lou's voice as she called Trevor to the table to speak to someone else. He walked away and I stayed behind to gather my wits. I pretended to look at his paintings, but I just stared straight through them.
I thought back to things Trevor and I had done together in the past. I pictured a montage of memories, and wondered how I had been overlooking his feelings for so long. So many things suddenly started to make sense.
We had a few minutes of down time before the first wave of people from Art Walk came into the library. During that time, I toyed with the idea of changing my plans and staying in Seattle to be with Trevor. How could I not? He was handsome, sweet, artistic, and all the other things I was looking for. I could easily picture a nice, comfortable relationship with Trevor.
Then, as if my own mind was working against me, I started daydreaming about Josh Rand and the way he kissed me two months ago in Portland. When I closed my eyes, I could clearly see myself in the dark hallway of that coffee shop. A jolt of nervous excitement passed through me at the memory. I felt like I wanted it to happen again. I had caught myself daydreaming about it quite a few times over the last two months and each time I easily remembered Josh—his face and his smell and the way he felt to my fingertips and lips. I was conflicted and slightly disappointed in myself for having a crush on a guy who looked and acted like he was straight out of the Army. I knew my inability to refrain from imagining that kiss would go away eventually, I just thought it was a little peculiar that I would even be attracted to someone like Josh.
Before long, people from Art walk started filtering into the library and I had no time to think about anything but the questions they were firing at us. After the whole thing was over, I looked back on my evening and realized there was something to be learned from the fact that I was crushing on G.I. Joe.
Was I daydreaming about kissing Trev
or?
No.
Should I stay in Seattle to have a relationship with someone I've never even considered kissing?
No.
Was I excited about heading to California in December?
Yes!
Do it.
Chapter 8
Josh
"What the hell happened to you, Fight Club?" Collin inspected the side of my face with great interest. "Why are you going so hard?" he asked. "I thought you were just doing it to stay in shape."
He was talking about my black eye. It was more like my upper cheek/corner of my eye, but it was a nice one, full of blues and purples.
"I swim to stay in shape," I said. "MMA is for fun. And to answer your question, no, I'm not getting all Fight Club with it." I pointed at my eye. "It was an accident."
I couldn't see Collin's expression because my eyes were on the road. I was taking him to the airport to head for the Olympic Trials in Nebraska. Rachel really wanted to be there, but she had some last minute stuff with one of her clients at the ad agency, and couldn't make it happen.
It wasn't that big of a deal. In two days, she and I, along with Gretchen, Joel and Emily would be getting on a flight headed for Nebraska to meet him.
"Is Zack on your flight?" I asked.
"Yeah, I asked him if he needed to ride with us, but his mom and stepdad wanted to bring him."
"Speaking of parents," I said. "When are your parents getting there?"
"They'll be there Sunday, same as you guys," Collin said.
"Meredith and Carson are both coming, I assume."
Collin laughed. "Meredith wouldn't miss it for the world, and not because she wants to watch me swim."
"What then? She's into swimmers?"
"No, she's still star-struck by Gretchen. She thinks it's so cool that I know a soap star."
"Didn't you tell her Gretchen's not on the show anymore?" I asked.
"She knows that," Collin said. "She doesn't care. She still loves Gretchen, and seems to think she can still pull some strings to get her on the show as an extra."
Mind the Gap (In Too Deep) Page 5
