The Romantics(24)

It’s not like Sammy and Mason really knew each other, but until recently, Mason had been over so frequently that they at least knew each other’s status. Sammy: resident babysitter. Mason: best friend. Recently updated to former best friend.

“No,” Gael stumbled. “He just barged in.”

She tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, her short hair framing her face in a perfect black arc. She looked kind of like Uma Thurman’s character in Pulp Fiction, bangs and all. She wore a tight Casablanca T-shirt that Gael couldn’t help but appreciate, skinny jeans, and a long geometric necklace that drew your eye to all the right places. Gael looked away.

Sure, she was good-looking, Gael thought. Mason was right. But she was so obviously trying to be cool. Besides, a Casablanca T-shirt looked cool no matter who wore it.

“This is the guy who stole your girlfriend, right?” Sammy asked.

He didn’t answer, and she turned her gaze to the TV. “Getting out your aggression through video games?” She rolled her eyes. “Nice.”

Gael put down the controller. “Don’t tell me, you’re anti–video games? How original.”

“So it’s cliché to dislike things that are proviolence and antiwomen?” she retorted. “Umm, hello, gamer gate.”

Gael had gotten the video-game lecture ad nauseum from his mother. He didn’t need to hear it again. “I know, I know,” he said. “But this one has morals. I killed that guy, but I’m going to pay for it later. I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Sammy raised her eyebrows at him and tilted her head to the side. “Really?”

“Really,” he said.

“So you’ll, like, go to jail?”

Gael shook his head. “Probably not. But I’ll pay for it. Don’t worry.”

She uncrossed her arms, let them hang at her sides, gave him a small smile. “So are you going to tell me about your ex-friend barging in, or are you going to debate me on the value of violent video games? If it’s the latter, please know that I will most definitely school you.”

Gael hesitated. He and Sammy’s conversations had always been fairly surface level. The thought of pouring out his relationship drama to someone in a stable long-term thing—someone who hadn’t been dumped publicly and who hadn’t entered into a pseudo-relationship with someone with such big issues around not being alone that she had to make rules about not dating for a month—well, it felt a little pathetic.

Then again, it would be nice to be able to talk to someone. Especially someone who wasn’t the cause of the whole thing.

He flipped off the TV. “I’m kind of all over the place this week.”

“Umm, shouldn’t you be?” she asked, turning her body to him in a way that made him feel, suddenly, like he could say anything. “Because having an ex show up at my birthday dinner would definitely send me into a tailspin of anxiety.”

Gael laughed. “If that wasn’t enough, Mason just followed me home to tell me he’s in love with Anika and ask my advice.”

Sammy gasped. “He said he was in love?”

Gael shook his head. “No, but he might as well have. He obviously cares about her.”

“And you still love her?” Sammy asked, settling down to sit on the floor, back against his wall.

(I could see what Gael couldn’t, that Sammy was hoping he’d say no. She told herself that it was because Anika was a narcissist, and Gael deserved better. But I had an inkling that wasn’t the whole story. And my inklings are pretty spot-on.)

“Actually, more and more, I don’t think I do.” Gael took a deep breath. “I guess it was easier to just think of them cheating as this super-shitty thing, and if they really care about each other, it feels less shitty. I don’t know.”

Sammy narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s going on here?” she asked. “There is no way that Gael Brennan would just be all Dr. Phil about this. What are you not telling me?”

Gael blushed. “I think I might like someone else,” he said.

Sammy paused. “Really?” she asked cautiously. “So soon after Anika?”

Gael stared down at his hands, then back to Sammy. He was embarrassed—he knew he sounded foolish—but he’d already told her this much, he might as well tell her the whole thing. “I randomly met her walking home from my birthday dinner, and then out of the blue I just kissed her—it was crazy—and we’ve hung out twice since then, but on Tuesday she told me that basically she’s fresh out of a relationship and doesn’t want to date anyone this month.”

Sammy laughed. Or, he wondered, was it more of a scoff? “Wow, a whole month without dating someone. What a sacrifice!”

Gael scooted back on the bed and crossed his arms. “Real easy to judge. It’s not like you’ve had loads of time to deal with being single.”

There was a brief pause, but Sammy just pressed her lips together and stood up. “I’m just saying, maybe two people who are obviously hung up on other people shouldn’t just jump into something because they ran into each other in the street.”

Her words were bold and strong, like bitter, burnt coffee. “But what if there’s a reason why we met,” he asked, a little vehemently. As he racked his brain for a way to support his case, his eyes landed, once again, on her shirt. Bingo. He nodded to it. “Like in Casablanca. Ilsa and Victor running into each other again.”