by Lily Kay
Yeah, Gavin equaled hot and he did make my heart flip. But if I was honest, I feared what he would think of me. And what happened if he resembled a total rat bastard? I’m left questioning my judgment in guys and whether I’m ready to date or not.
Besides, finding someone attractive couldn’t be my only metric for the date-ability of a guy. Because let’s get real, love at first sight hardly ever resulted in love forever and ever. Disclaimer: what I felt for Gavin didn’t come close to love at first sight. More like, yes, I have eyes and can see he’s attractive.
Nick parked his car in Groove’s lot as Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing,” filtered from the speakers onto the outdoor eating area. A neon pink and green sign illuminated the name of the club above the front doors. The club opened for lunch, dinner, and cocktails at night, with live music Wednesday through Sunday.
We saw Sierra, Matt, and Emmy sitting outside at a round table under an awning. Nick headed their way, while I made a beeline inside for the restroom.
I scanned the club and recalled last year’s familiar hangout. I glanced at our standard curved booth to the right of the club as memories of Nick and Matt playing on the stage opposite the entrance reeled like a movie.
My stomach grumbled as smells of fried food, grilled meats, and roasted veggies from the back kitchen filled the air. Their cheese fries were cholesterol heaven. I’m also told their fajitas kicked ass, but I never veered from my staples of salmon or chicken stir-fry.
I waved to my left to Jackson, one of the bartenders working the lunch hour, before I made it back to the restrooms.
I eyeballed the mirror in the bathroom and released an audible sigh. I found a scrunchie from my purse and pulled the remainder of my braid into a messy bun.
No makeup today. Pretty much no makeup every day. Sierra offered to widen my eyes if I would let her use some eyeliner and bring out the natural coloring in my cheeks with blush. Maybe if I went on a date I’d do it (see: not for a very long ass time).
Dr. Liz once asked me to think about why I hated wearing makeup.
Laziness?
But she wanted something deeper. How I didn’t want to appear attractive to anyone. I could stay hidden and target free.
Invisible.
Kids would leave me alone and quit making fun of something I had no control over changing. I spent most of my twenty years thinking I was ugly because I didn’t look like the rest of my town. Wearing makeup might help me appear more attractive, but I already decided it proved a lost cause.
People would see right through me. Makeup meant mega denial about how I truly appeared to the rest of society. Not white, and not beautiful.
Which all tied into my stupid eating disorder, leading me to contemplate food choices at lunch without having my roommates smothering me with concern.
I loved them, but somehow, I had to figure out the balance of them supporting me without making me out to be some paper doll. I shook my head, slapped my cheeks a few times, and headed back to the outdoor eating area.
When I approached the group, Emmy’s voice pierced the air. “Hail baby Jesus for the awning, or we’d be suffering from heat exhaustion.” She fanned herself with the green bordered plastic menu.
“It’s not bad, especially when the breeze kicks in,” Nick replied. He sipped his Fat Tire. He and Emmy were the elderly twenty-one-year-olds among our group and frequently ordered a drink with their meal.
I personally thought beer tasted like piss, and wine didn’t fare much better, but the sweet drinks and the hard lemonades made my mouth water.
However, no public drinking for me. Besides, like most Asians, I apparently lacked the enzymes to break down alcohol, resulting in a ruddy glow plastered across my face and neck.
Matt patiently waited for his twenty-first birthday next month and didn’t typically press his luck ordering alcohol during the daytime. Though at night, sometimes the bartenders looked the other way, especially when he gigged.
Totally illegal but they had an understanding where Matt would leave his keys with Jackson when he ordered his second drink.
Nick snapped his head away from the menu with glee, and I knew he’d out my terrible no good very bad day. “Ah, Louise, you’re back. We ordered cheese fries and fried mozzarella for everyone.”
“Thanks.” I narrowed my eyes and grabbed the seat in-between Sierra and Matt. Ignoring Nick proved difficult with him sitting across from me, next to Emmy.
I swear, Sierra and Matt resembled Barbie and Ken. Well, if Barbie were actually in proportion and not about to have her breasts topple her forward and prevent her from walking. Though they insisted their relationship was platonic.
Nick persisted. “And, do you want to share what happened today in studio?”
“Actually, I do not. Thanks, though.” I sipped my water, appreciating how the cool liquid soothed my parched throat.
Neglecting Nick, I perused the menu and decided on the teriyaki rice bowl. Maybe he’d take the hint and change the subject. Talking about something virtually impossible to happen would bore anyone. My theory, but unfortunately not my roommates’.
“What’s going on, Lou?” Matt turned to me, brows raised.
“Not much, you? How are classes?” I asked, the straw still in my mouth.
“Good.” Matt fidgeted with his sandy blond hair, regarding me.
“Good.” Knowing he’d probe, I turned to Sierra. “And when is your first class?”
“No classes today. Tuesdays and Thursdays, baby. Total score for me.” Sierra made the rock-on hand signs, both arms extended in the air.
The luxury of cramming all our classes to Mon/Wed/Fri or Tue/Thur would never happen for us music majors. There were too many courses to take, and not enough hours. They already shaved off three credit hour courses to two, to fit all the courses into our schedule. Meaning, we still met for three hours a week but only got two credits. Highly immoral.
Sierra turned her whole body to face me. “Tell me what you’re hiding.”
I didn’t bother raising my eyes from my menu and shrugged. “Nothing.”
I turned my attention to Emmy. “Haven’s class is officially going to suck. I can’t believe Dr. Ford is taking a leave of absence.”
“No kidding, you’d think they would’ve had the decency to let us know before classes started so we could try and change our schedules.” Emmy pushed her round tortoise-shelled glasses up the bridge of her nose.
I groaned. “We’re stuck now. I don’t know about you, but my schedule has no flexibility.”
“Oh, come on, Louie. Give me a little nugget,” Sierra interjected.
“Yeah, what happened after I saw you in Theory this morning?” Emmy asked. She closed her menu and placed it on the table, head cocked to the side.
My lips were sealed.
“I think our little Louie is curious about a new guy.” Nick’s eyebrows waggled as he divulged my secret.
Leaning over the table, I hit him on the top of his head with my menu. “Thanks a lot, Nick. You, sir, are no longer my hero.”
Matt leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head. “Excellent. By default, I’m the sole hero. No shit, you digging a guy?”
Both Sierra and Emmy sat forward on the edge of their chairs, squealed, and clapped repeatedly like they were part of the cheerleading squad. They took turns grilling me.
Frist Sierra. “What’s his name?”
“What does he look like?” Emmy asked.
“Fuck a duck! Louise!”
As this unfolded, my scowls did nothing to lift the perma-grin on Nick’s face. He betrayed me yet again by explaining what happened with me and Gavin in the hallway of the practice rooms.
“Please tell me you didn’t use Nick as a human shield from this guy.”
Sierra tilted her head to the side, waiting for my response.
The top edge of the chair dug into the back of my neck as I sagged backward and confessed. “Unfortunately, I did. Making my chances of even being able to speak to him like a normal human being slim to none.”
Matt cackled and thumped his chest. “Fucking awesome.”
“You know what? I hate you all.” The smell of fried goodness interrupted my pity party. Our waitress Sabrina, brought us the appetizers before writing down our orders. After ordering my chicken bowl, I snatched several fries.
I noticed Sabrina’s attentiveness to Nick, followed by an inquiry about his summer.
After she left, I confronted Nick. “So, Sabrina has a thing for you?”
“She’s cute but not my type.”
“Not your type because she wants a meaningful loving relationship?”
Nick chuckled. “Yup, and I’m not one to lead a friend on.” He sipped his beer. “Let’s talk a little more about Gavin.”
“Oooh, yes, let’s.” Emmy sounded like she won the lotto as her brown Shirley Temple hair literally bopped up and down in conjunction with her body.
“Let’s not and say we did,” I said.
The fries tasted like I had died and gone to heaven. Piping hot and not too greasy, enough to complement the sea salt. Yes, eating these fries resembled heaven on earth, or at least as close to heaven as I understood.
Although the fries’ macros kept tormenting me. 560 calories in a serving, twenty-four grams of fat, six grams of protein divided by the five of us.
“Aw, come on, Louie.” Matt joined in on the badgering and pulled me out of my OCD.
I wolfed down another fry and pushed the bowl toward the center of the table.
“Look, there’s not a whole lot to tell. He’s in my piano studio and apparently some sort of composition prodigy studying with Dr. Mickelson. He’s nice eye candy and he’s amazing and so flawless, he’s a figment of my imagination. Can we change the topic now?”
I sipped some more water before noticing all four of my friends were now gazing past me toward the street, with looks wavering between surprise and comical relief. I decided there was no benefit of turning around to see what or who they were all staring at.
I couldn’t blame Emmy for propping open her mouth to the point I could practically see her tonsils. It was the first time she probably encountered near-male perfection.
“Cheers, mate,” Nick said.
“Hey, Nick, how’s it going?” And his voice, I knew his voice because it implanted in my brain during studio this morning and awoke any inkling of my sexuality from hibernation.
I wondered if slithering under the table would look odd. At this point, I refused to face Gavin. No way. And now I couldn’t stop thinking about how much he might have overheard.
I’m sure he caught part of what I had said, and hell to the no, he stood behind me. Hints of clean soap smell mixed with light aftershave, probably laced with pheromones, drifted around me. Heat rose up from my shoulders to my neck, and I thought my ears might boil off.
“Can’t complain. You?” Nick maintained his smirk, glancing between me and Gavin.
Though I tried to remain strong, I faltered and peeked at the man of the hour.
“Pretty good, still unpacking, but, you know the drill.” Gavin shrugged his shoulders and flashed a smile like he was on the red carpet.
“Yep, sure do.” Starting with Emmy, Nick went around the table and introduced us. When he got to me, he hesitated. “And I believe you already know Louie. Everyone, this is Gavin Henderson.”
Gavin appeared in front of our table. “Hey.” I proceeded to grab a fry. Fuck shit fuck. I was going to kill Nick.
“How d’you know each other?” Sierra was the master at playing innocent, yet clearly appreciating the view. I swore her eyelashes batted up and down faster than a sewing machine.
“We met this summer down in Miami,” Gavin explained.
“I recorded two songs for this movie, and Gavin’s the composer,” Nick shared.
Nick cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow, as if his explanation would redeem him from withholding information earlier. Recording music with him was a hell of a lot different than seeing him around. I could kick Nick in the balls, pretending he didn’t know Gavin.
Being mid-swallow I “accidentally” spewed my half-swallowed water in Nick’s direction, hoping some random drops didn’t land on Emmy.
“My bad.” No, I didn’t mean any of it. Yes, I briefly contemplated the maturity level of dumping the rest of my water in his face. Nick wiped his face with his napkin. His eyes danced like this was the best moment of the day. I secretly prayed bed bugs and chiggers would infest his mattress for life.
Several seconds passed before my throat recovered from water trickling down the wrong pipe. “No kidding. You didn’t mention those summer plans, Nick.”
I refused to look at Gavin and thought about using the bathroom as an excuse to hide, if only I hadn’t been there moments earlier. Wouldn’t want my roommates thinking I used the facilities inappropriately.
“Don’t be too hard on him. He’s technically not supposed to say anything until the teaser trailer gets released in a couple weeks,” Gavin responded.
I finally made eye contact with him and clinched my straw. Good grief, this guy made my girlie parts tingle.
Close-up, I couldn’t deny his athleticism. His slightly loose shirt did a poor job of hiding the fact he probably sported a six-pack, if the width of his chest and the definition in his arms were any indication. And now nude marbles of Gavin lining the entrance to our house bombarded my mind.
“Impressive, man. You want to join us?” Matt proposed, always being inclusive.
“Thanks. But I’m meeting someone already. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Well pull up a seat until she comes.” Matt snatched a chair from the table next to us and slid it between me and him.
“All right, sure.” Gavin sat down and turned to me. “Your piece was beautiful, by the way.”
My lips curved down despite my attempt to smile. “Uh, thanks. Though I totally messed up.” Was he even listening?
“Nice, Gupta made you play today?” Matt’s eyes glimmered, and I could tell he enjoyed this interaction.
Gavin answered for me. “She played first, and I think everyone enjoyed it. A bit melancholy with some rough transition sections, but still nice. Loved the bridge. It’s a good start with all the ingredients to be an exceptional piece.”
Rough transitions? Melancholy? Well no shit it was melancholy. All the reasons why my music screamed melancholy streamed from my brain. Verbalizing them would make me look even more cray-cray.
And did I ask for a critique? No. Critiques didn’t come until later in the semester. Who did this guy think he was?
“Well, I’ve only begun writing it, and it’s obviously not perfect.” I achieved a complete sentence, though unable to control the tremble in my voice.
“Nothing’s ever perfect, is it?” Matt interjected.
“Apparently Gavin’s stuff is.” Yes, my tone wavered on defensive. No, I wasn’t proud. I directed my anger at pretty much everyone. Nick because he lied to me, Gupta because he made me play, and Gavin because he had the gall to evaluate me when he couldn’t even give me the decency of at least pretending to pay attention.
Gavin exhaled, before leaning back in his chair. “Hey, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“None taken.” My voice lacked sincerity. Followed by crickets.
“Well, this has been”—Gavin took a longer than necessary pause, fiddled with the back of his neck, and finished with—“interesting. Matt, Sierra, Emmy, nice to meet you. Nick, let’s try and meet up later to discuss that piece you wa
nted to collaborate on. Well, my lunch date is here . . .”
Their goodbyes drowned out as I turned my thoughts inward. I wasn’t oblivious to the fact he left me out of his farewell. I caught sight of Gavin shaking his head as he messed with his hair again.
Gavin embraced his lunch date and I immediately got a feeling of inadequacy. This woman was the antithesis of me, with long light brown curly hair, tanned skin, and legs that seemed to go on forever. Why did his girlfriend have to look like she stepped off the runway in an A-line sleeveless dress and three-inch black open-toed patent leather sandals?
I closed my eyes and halted the crazy talk. I chastised myself and shook my head. No way I’d re-enact pre-hospital Louise, and psycho stalk, while drawing comparisons with every woman Gavin might have interacted with.
I still wasn’t thrilled with the gang, though. Sabrina returned with our meals and I opted to listen rather than talk. My roommates sensed my mood shift from chatty to complete introversion. I tried not feeling like shit but defeat and insecurity loomed high.
It seemed like Gavin wouldn’t visit Match.com anytime soon. Even if he was single, he made it clear this afternoon he had zero interest in me.
Evidently being a first-class pedigree bitch didn’t help my cause either.
Chapter 3
Dr. Liz lounged across me in her leather reclining chair, while I plopped myself down in the corner of the matching tan couch. I had an hour session with her before my first class started at 10:30 am.
I snatched the pillow on the other side of the sofa and immediately placed it on my lap to cover my stomach. Pre-hospital, I would use a pillow or anything on my stomach to hide my imagined paunch belly. I couldn’t give it up yet because it helped soothe the anxiety festering in my gut.
“Glad to be back?” asked Dr. Liz.
I assessed my psychologist. A middle-aged woman, about five-foot one, with graying brown hair cut into a chin length bob. With her heavy New York accent, I deduced she grew up in the city.
