Brush Strokes Page 9

  “I’m having a bunch of people over for dinner on my birthday,” Mela tells him, mid-October, when she’s lying on his bed, reading something for school. She has a pink marker pen balanced on her nose.

  “That’s nice.”

  “You’re coming, right?”

  “Like you even have to ask. The only time I’ve missed your birthday was when I visited abuela. In Mexico.”

  Mela removes the marker pen and looks over at him. There’s a moment of silence before she says, “I’m going to invite Daniel.”

  Todd freezes, betrayal flooding his gut. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve hung out with him a bit, and he is a really great guy. We’re friends.”

  “Okay.” Todd saw the indications of that during the coffee disaster, but he didn’t know that they were friendly enough to invite each other to birthday dinners. It shouldn’t be such a surprise. Mela is the best person he knows and she’s dating Daniel’s friend. It’s only natural that they see each other every so often.

  “Are you okay with that?”

  Is he? He doesn’t have much of a choice. It’s her birthday dinner. She can invite anyone. “Sure.”

  “It’s also so that Jesse has someone he knows, except for me and you.”

  Jesse hasn’t exactly come off as the kind of guy who can’t talk to people he doesn’t know, but Todd isn’t the one dating him, so he’s not going to question. Above all, she doesn’t need to defend the people she wants there when she celebrates her birthday.

  When Mela’s birthday comes around, he stands in his room with the contents of his closet all over the floor. He’s tried on at least a dozen shirts and every pair of pants that he owns and attempted to tame his hair into some kind of submission. In the end, he goes for jeans and a turquoise, paisley-patterned button-up, with a purple bow tie. That’s about as formal as he gets, unless someone gets married or dies. He found her a piece of a moose horn in a shady thrift shop last week. Someone doused it in glitter, and his hands sparkle whenever he touches it, which is awful, but Mela is going to love it. He found a necklace with her birthstone, too, most likely fake, but it looked pretty. The horn is probably going to overshadow it anyway.

  He’s early. Mela asked him to help her prepare, and he doesn’t tell her that he’s relieved she still needs him, but she must understand that anyway. It’s not as if he actually worries that she would ever switch him out, considering how long they have been friends, but sometimes he gets those weird brain ghosts that tell him differently.

  “You look great,” she greets, but she looks smashing in a bright teal dress. “We match!”

  “Happy birthday.” He hugs her tight. A tiny space in his chest fills each second she holds on to him. “You look amazing.”

  She twirls on the spot; her skirt poofs out. “I’m glad you could be here early.”

  “What do you need me to do?” He hands over the gift box, neatly wrapped in pink gift wrap and an origami butterfly as decoration, and her entire face lights up. One of his secret talents is gift wrapping.

  “Nothing.” She shrugs, eyeing the box as if she’s two seconds away from shaking it, but then she puts it on the dresser right beside the front door. “I just wanted to hang out for a bit before everyone gets here. How are you?”

  “I’m doing okay.” Taking off his jacket, Todd avoids her gaze. “I mean, I should be doing great because we have two more artists for the gallery and I’m ahead on school work.”

  “But?”

  He leaves her question hanging while he mulls it over. They make tea and curl up on the couch together, backs against an armrest each, feet touching. Todd remembers when they could do this with their legs stretched out and they’d have to point their toes to touch over the seemingly endless couch cushions. Sometimes he isn’t sure if it’s just that they grew, or if maybe the couch got smaller too.

  “I don’t know,” he sighs, clutching the mug until his palms burn. “It’s all the what ifs.”

  She smiles, nudging him with her foot. She has surprisingly big feet for such a tiny person. When they were kids, she told him that it was so she could walk on water. He believed her for several months. “It’ll be fine. Maybe you just need some time. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “It is if I was the one turning him down.”

  “No, because you didn’t do it because the interest wasn’t there. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  Todd takes a breath and looks at her. It’s her birthday dinner. He’s not going to ruin it for anything in the world.

  “Okay,” is all he says, and they talk about everything else until their mugs are dry.

  Jesse arrives next. Todd is nervous for all of two seconds until Jesse squeezes his shoulder and asks him how he’s doing.

  Todd has met all of Mela’s guests. Most of them are mutual friends Todd has gotten to know through her. It’s comforting, considering that Daniel is coming. This way, Todd will probably not feel that left out; he’ll have a whole bunch of people to talk to that he hasn’t lied to.

  Todd is talking to Michaela, a girl from Mela’s high school softball team, when Daniel shows up. He has a huge bouquet of pink flowers and a bottle of champagne; the label has the shape of a shield, but Todd can’t see the brand. Todd’s brain partially quits on him when he takes in Daniel’s olive-green slacks and crisp button-up. His hair looks just as Todd remembers it: carefully styled to look effortless. While Todd has a hard time deciding what he feels for Daniel, he can’t help but warm at the way Daniel smiles at Mela and how he hugs her.

  He isn’t the only one who has trouble focusing as Daniel politely shakes hands with everyone. He smiles, looks them in the eyes whenever he’s not looking at their mouths, repeats their names, asks several of them to say it again or to spell their names on their phones. Todd waits, conveniently last in line, and his pulse picks up as Daniel comes closer.

  “Todd,” Daniel says, when he’s the only one left.

  “Hi.” For some reason he expects Daniel to say something more, but he doesn’t. Instead he seeks out Jesse.

  Todd resolutely turns his attention back to Michaela, who’s clearly dying to know what that was about. Todd really doesn’t feel like telling her right now—or ever.

  During dinner, Daniel sits across from him, between Jesse and Hannah. Todd has known Hannah for almost as long as he’s known Mela, but they’ve never gotten along well. He distinctly remembers her trying to boss him around when they were playing and promptly refusing to do anything she suggested, however fun it sounded. They get on better now, but he looks away when Daniel gives her all his attention. He knows so well what it’s like to be in her shoes, and if things were different, maybe he still would be.

  Todd concentrates on Mela, whenever she can tear her gaze away from Jesse, and Michaela, who has just come back from a semester abroad.

  “Denmark is great,” she tells him. “I wish I could’ve been there longer, but the exchange program at my school won’t allow it.”

  “That’s a shame.” He glances at Daniel and Hannah and sees how their food seems to be forgotten. He can’t help but overhear their conversation. Hannah sighs in frustration and shrugs.

  “Sorry, can you repeat that? I can’t tell what you’re saying when you’re facing away from me,” Daniel says.

  “It wasn’t important, so never mind.” She waves her hand and smiles before she empties her glass.

  Daniel frowns and looks away. Todd opens his mouth to tell her to stop being an asshole, but Daniel squares his shoulders and smiles again, albeit stiffly.

  “We can use my phone?” he suggests and holds it out to Hannah, who lights up and nods.

  “That’s a great idea!”

  It takes him a moment before he realizes that he’s zoned out and Michaela is looking expectantly at him. “Uh, how’s the weather there?”

  Oh,
god, of all the things he could have asked, he goes for the weather? Michaela takes it in stride, but her gaze flicks to Daniel before turning back to Todd.

  “Kind of cold and rainy during fall, winter and spring, but the summer was fine. It’s very green, and, even though it was super expensive to live there, it’s easy and cheap to go to other countries. Europe is great like that.”

  “That must’ve been really cool,” Todd says, ignoring his own jealousy at only having been to Mexico.

  “It really was!”

  She excuses herself for the bathroom. Todd’s gaze catches on Daniel again. He’s typing on his phone, and Hannah is nowhere to be seen.

  He should say something. He isn’t sure if his sudden urge to talk is because of the wine or the chafing lump in his stomach that hasn’t gone away. Blinking, Todd comes back to reality and finds Daniel looking back at him.

  “Did you say something?” Daniel asks.

  Todd swallows. “No.”

  “Did you just sit there and look at me for five minutes?”

  “Uh. Yeah.” It’s out before Todd can filter himself, and his face heats as he hastily adds, “There’s no way that was five minutes!”

  Daniel presses his lips together and looks away without saying anything. Todd doesn’t think he looks annoyed, though—quite the opposite. His eyes are crinkling at the corners.

  Todd wants to say something—anything—especially now, when he’s reminded of how they met.

  At times like these, when he gets emotional and nostalgic, he needs to remind himself that it was just one night, that things went south after that, and then even more south. Todd doesn’t know exactly why he’s uneasy with Daniel and Hannah picking up conversation when she returns to the table. Maybe his nostalgia is to blame for that too.

  He flees to the balcony, sucks in a big gulp of New York air, and revels in the silence. The sound of traffic several stories below him is just a distant hum.

  It takes twenty minutes for Mela to find him.

  “Heya.” Her voice is soft, and, when Todd looks over his shoulder, he finds her smiling. It’s her pity-smile.

  “Hi.”

  “What are you doing out here?” She closes the door behind her and sits on the chair next to his.

  “Getting some air and rest for my head. All the talking is exhausting my brain.”

  “That’s okay.” She hesitates. “Does this have anything to do with Daniel and Hannah?”

  Taking a breath, Todd looks at the skyscrapers, at people walking in a hurry and cars waiting at traffic lights. Maybe because he’s had a bit to drink, maybe because he really is tired of this, he’s heavy and his body feels worn all of a sudden.

  “No. I don’t have the right to have any opinions about that.”

  “How about feelings, though?”

  Todd worries his bottom lip between his teeth and considers just shrugging it off. But this is Mela. Since when won’t he talk to her about these things?

  “I’m kinda torn. On one hand, I’m semi-jealous, because I know I had a great time with him at a party. On the other hand, I still feel like an idiot.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was so ready to see him again, and then I find out that he’s trying to take the gallery.”

  “Todd,” Mela sighs.

  “I know, not technically, but it still feels that way.”

  “Have you even considered talking to him about it?”

  Todd squares his shoulders. “I did mention it when we met at the bar.”

  “The same day he found out that you had been lying about being sick?”

  Todd winces. That wasn’t his finest moment. “Yeah.”

  “He was probably hurt. Rejection hurts.”

  “He probably doesn’t get rejected that much, so I think he’ll live.”

  “Seriously,” Mela says, her voice stern now. “Daniel is one of the nicest people I’ve met, and I really think you should give him a chance. But if you don’t want to, then maybe you should ask yourself why you react like this when he flirts with other people.”

  “I guess I wanna eat the cake and have it too.”

  “That’s a possibility. Or maybe you’re regretting rejecting him so quickly.”

  Todd shrugs. He can’t be annoyed with her when he’s been thinking the same thing himself.

  “It’s too late now anyway.”

  “You don’t know that until you’ve tried.”

  “Why are you being reasonable?” he mutters and gets a grin in return.

  “It’s my job. That’s why you keep me around. Then she leans across the armrests of their chairs and hugs him tight. “I just really want you to allow yourself to be happy.”

  Todd agrees with that wholeheartedly. It’s a lot harder to do it in reality than just thinking about it, though.

  “Get back to your party. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  “If you don’t, I’ll come back for you.”

  “Don’t threaten me.” Todd snorts.

  He stands at the railing, looking at the traffic below, for another ten minutes until the door opens again. Assuming that it’s Mela who’s coming to drag his sorry ass inside, Todd turns around.

  It’s not Mela. It’s Daniel.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asks, hesitating in the doorway.

  “No, go ahead.” It’s not as if Todd can refuse him. “Needing some air?” he asks, because he’s going to say something stupid if it gets awkward and quiet between them.

  “Things got a little loud.”

  Todd hums and he’s just about to agree when he remembers. Meeting Daniel’s gaze, he finds a peculiar glint in his eyes.

  “Funny,” he says instead.

  Daniel smirks, and Todd’s heart flips over. Stop it. “I just needed some air.”

  “Same.”

  Todd considers doing what Mela told him to—talking to Daniel about everything—but Hannah almost trips through the open balcony door.

  “I guess that’s my cue,” he tells Daniel, who opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again when Hannah grabs his arm.

  “See you inside,” Todd adds and leaves them alone.

  Jesse drags him into a conversation immediately, and the next thing Todd knows it’s past midnight and half the crowd, including Daniel, has left for a club.

  “Since you’re staying over, I’m not,” Jesse tells him, and Todd’s stomach sinks despite Jesse’s smile. His button-up is wrinkled now, and there’s a wine stain on his sleeve.

  “I can try to find a cab.”

  “No. Mela wants to have you over. She’s missed you. I’ll see her again on Monday.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Todd,” Jesse says, suddenly serious. Todd’s discovered during the past couple of hours that Jesse is one of those people who turn into a professional life coach when he gets drunk. “You’re her best friend. You’ve known her for a really long time. She would never stop spending time with you because of me. I don’t want her to, but even if I did, you and I both know that she would never allow it. I like you. I’m sure you’re a nice guy. Stop beating yourself up about what happened with Daniel. It already happened. You can’t change that now. He doesn’t hate you, and neither do I.”

  Todd’s had some to drink as well, and, while he’s normally not a fan of being Dr. Phil-ed, that’s exactly the reassurance he needs now.

  “I was a grade-A dick to him.”

  Jesse actually smiles at that. “Yeah, but to be fair, I don’t think I know a single person who has never been a dick to anyone in their life. Sometimes we make mistakes and do things we regret. That’s okay, as long as we own up to them.”

  Todd squints him. Who is he? Jesus? “I should probably apologize to Daniel.”

  “I’m sure tha
t he’d appreciate that.”

  “Thanks for being nice even though I was a dick to your friend.”

  “Right now, I don’t think my friend benefits from me being angry with you. I think you guys need to talk.”

  “That’s what everyone says.” Todd heaves a sigh.

  “There might be something to it.”

  “Yeah.” Todd agrees, because he knows. He would give the same advice if this was anyone else. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.” Jesse squeezes his shoulder. “All right, I’m out. Have a nice evening with the birthday girl.”

  “You know it.”

  Mela is clearing the table when Todd finds her.

  “Didn’t you wanna go out with them?”

  “Nah, I had more fun here. Plus, you’re still a baby.”

  She’s missing out on fun because he’s not twenty-one. “I could’ve stayed here or gone home.”

  “I haven’t seen you in forever. Properly, I mean. That’s the best birthday gift for me right now.”

  Todd hugs her and doesn’t let go for a long while.

  * * *

  It’s only a couple of days later when Todd sees Daniel next. He’s grabbing coffee at his favorite café and he’s got his laptop with him. There are a bunch of articles and assignments he needs to deal with before class tomorrow and trying to focus at home makes him nauseous lately. This place only serves organic and fair trade, and, unless it’s super busy, they don’t mind people studying at their tables for hours. The lighting isn’t the best—yellowish and dull from the industrial lamps—but the place is warm and smells of freshly brewed coffee and croissants.

  Todd has already zeroed in on a corner table with a power outlet—someone must’ve just left because those are sacred here—and fewer people nearby talking when he notices a familiar head of hair at another table across the room.

  Stopping dead in his tracks, Todd stares. Because, one: this is Brooklyn, what the hell is Daniel doing here? And two: this café is the least Daniel-like café Todd has ever seen. However, the person sitting opposite of Daniel fits in better. She’s dressed as if she shops for clothes in the same places as Todd and a lot of people in his school.