19. Joel

CHAPTER 19

JOEL

I hesitate before I approach, but I see her shoulders drop, all the tension she's been carrying since we got back melting away. It takes all I have not to bound up to her in delight, to be near her and make her laugh, but we have to play this one carefully. I don't want to push her out altogether.

And she clearly doesn't want to talk about it.

"What can I do to help?"

She turns from the stove where she had been staring at her pan and gives me a look of confusion mixed with panic. "You want to cook?"

I wander over to hover by the fridge — closer but not invasive. "Yeah, why not?"

"Uh, have you forgotten what happened last time?"

I can't help smiling a little at that. I'd have hated it if she'd stopped challenging me. "That was beginner's luck."

She folds her arms, the wooden spoon at an almost threatening angle. Her hair is tied in a ponytail, strands of it loose around her face, catching the light like a gem. How did I ever think she was plain? Her whole personality shines out of her and it's beautiful.

"Beginner's luck is supposed to be when you're good at something."

"Beginners can have bad luck too. Just ask any casino dealer."

"Right. Something you know all about, then." She stares pointedly at me then returns to her cooking.

Four days ago, I'd have been hurt by that comment. Now I'm just happy that she's talking to me. I'm clearly forgiven for freaking the hell out earlier. And if this friendship is all Anna's got to give me, I'll take it. I've never had a friend like her before.

"Well, I'm not a beginner anymore," I say defiantly. "So that means I can help?"

"All right, master chef, here's the deal. You take this spoon." She thrusts it out at me. I'm careful not to touch her hand as I take it. She moves away from her spot and points at it. "And you stand right here."

I obey, marching into place, ready to follow her every order. I hold out the spoon expectantly and look down into the pan which is full of sizzling colors. "And you stir it every now and again. And you don't do anything else."

"Yes, boss," I say, dipping the spoon in and stirring.

Anna turns to the counter and ducks down into a cupboard, searching for something. I stir the pan again. "Here we go," she says, bobbing back up. "Rice."

"Cool," I say.

"I lost my job," she says without warning. It distracts me from my job because I look at her instead. Her eyes are focused down on the chopping board where she's still hacking away at some zucchinis, staring down so she doesn't have to look at me. "That's why I'm here."

"Oh," I say, not really sure what else I'm meant to do. "That must suck."

She gives me a hollow chuckle. "Understatement of the century." I think I'm probably not meant to point out the way she looks like she's about to cry so instead I waver as I try desperately to think of something to say. She scoffs and snaps at me, "Keep stirring."

Again, I obey. The silence is punctuated by the rhythmic pounding of the knife, the hissing of the onions. I keep stirring. Why did I never learn how to have human conversations with people? Why am I so desperate to get to know this girl better than anyone else?

Eventually, Anna leans over and dumps her handiwork into the pan. Her shoulder is so close to brushing against my arm and I wonder if she can feel the static crackle between us. As she pulls away again, she says, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being honest with me earlier. About stuff."

The energy in this room is so intense right now, a mind-bending combination of lust and awkwardness and raw honesty. I'm walking on a minefield of eggshells. "There's always stuff," I say, brushing her off.

"Sure is," she says, and I think she's going to drop it again even though I'm dying with curiosity, but she's a boulder rolling down a mountain now, her green eyes glittering with tears. "It's my friend. Well, was my friend. She took everything. From me. The business. God! We were just starting to get somewhere with it all and she's gone and fucked off with all our money!"

Things slowly start to piece together in my head and a possessive rage starts flaring up under my skin. How dare this so-called friend screw Anna over like this? "That's a low move, dude."

She throws her hands up. "It's obscene! You know, she told me she owned our apartment and I thought she was being kind by not making me pay rent. She told me her parents had money and just bought this place for her like it was nothing. And she was so glamorous that I just believed it. And then I got kicked out! Four years I lived there, and I never knew her at all. I can't believe I was so stupid."

"You're not stupid," I say like a reflex. She scrubs the tears furiously from her eyes and shakes her head.

"Don't bother, everyone thinks it. You think you're a family disappointment? At least you're not gullible enough to spend years building a business with a con artist while your perfect, valedictorian brother flits around the world in first class while Mom and Dad are oh so proud of him." She sighs heavily. "At least you told Ben before you broke into his house."

It all makes sense now, why she's been so evasive and why she threw a lamp at me. She really wasn't expecting me to be there. Ben doesn't know a thing.

I want to comfort her, so I do in the only way I know how. By making fun of myself. "And you think he didn't do that awful you should do better voice at me when I called him to tell him I fucked up badly enough that I had to hide out?"

Fortunately, the joke lands and a hint of a smile cracks through her self-loathing and rage. Even with wild hair and puffy eyes from crying, she's attractive to me. She makes me realize that I've been living among plastic people for too long. That I've been craving something real.

"Yeah, I know that voice. It's why I didn't tell him. And there's no way I'm telling Mom. She already thinks I'm wasting my time trying to make a career for myself instead of trying to make a family."

"Can't you do both?"

"Not according to her."

"What about according to you?"

She hesitates before answering me and I feel like the room around us shrinks. We're facing each other now, only a handful of feet apart. Closing the gap and pulling her into my arms would be easy if she wanted me to. But she clearly doesn't. She thinks she's stupid? I'm the stupid one — the only reason she kissed me is because she thought that was what she was meant to do, and I was too dumb to tell her otherwise.

I only want her if it's real.

"I think you can do both," Anna says slowly, choosing her words carefully. "But I don't think there's anything wrong with choosing one or the other. It just has to be a choice."

"Choices suck," I say. "I miss my PA. Antonio gets everything all set up for me every day. I'm a mess without him."

My attempt to lighten the mood falls flat though as Anna sighs again. "Yeah, choices suck. It's what got us here, huh? Prisoners in Ben's house all because of some monumentally stupid screw-ups."

"He'd understand, y'know. You should talk to him."

"Yeah, right," she scoffs, then stretches out her thumb and pinkie to mime being on the phone. " Hey, Ben, it's Anna. By the way, I'm homeless now. Anyway, how's Japan? " She shakes her head. "No thanks, I don't need that kind of negativity in my life to add to my misery."

I wave that idea away. "No, he wouldn't be mean. Ben talks about you all the time, he loves you. Hell, he let me stay here and he knows there's a non-zero chance I'd wreck his place. You clean up after yourself and everything, there's no way he would let you go it alone."

"What do you know?" Anna snaps, reaching forward to snatch the spoon off me so she can stir vigorously. I wince, having forgotten all about the pan again. This cooking stuff is harder than it looks.

"I know he thinks the sun shines out of your ass," I say, not quite ready to stop trying to make her see that people care about her. "He's proud of you, Anna. He thinks you work hard and he thinks you're super smart for doing it all alone."

She turns off the gas by wrenching the knob so hard I think she's about to pull it off. "Just drop it, okay? Leave it alone."

As she turns her back to me to finish the meal, I can't help feeling like I've made yet another monumental mistake.