Best Friends Don't Kiss(30)

We make our way through three more artists’ work, but with each one, Mark gets a little more antsy and a little less capable of camouflaging his boredom.

When we reach the back corner of the gallery, Mark spots a small table with drinks and snacks and perks up a little.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Ava?”

I have no desire for wine, but I agree. Just for the hell of it. “Sure. Wine would be great.”

“Fantastic,” he responds, his voice the most cheerful it’s been all night. “I’ll go grab us a few drinks, then. Be right back.”

While he takes an art breather, I move to the next piece. Which, honestly, I think might be Juliet’s best at this exhibition. This work is huge, taking up an entire wall and curving around you in a way that makes you feel as if you’re within the stars. It’s amazing. Truly amazing, and I can’t stop myself from pulling my cell out of my purse, snapping a secret picture of it, and texting it to the one person it makes me think about.

Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates with a response.



Luke: That’s incredible!



Me: I know, right??? One day, this will be your view.



Soon, my best friend will be an astronaut for NASA. And it’s probably only a matter of time before he gets the call and will have to pack up his New York apartment to move across the country to Houston…

The thought makes my chest expand and tighten at the same time.

Of course, I love watching him soar and knowing he’s achieving all of his dreams, but what am I going to do without my best friend across the hall from me?



Luke: We don’t know that yet, Ace.



Me: You don’t know that yet, but I do. ;) Also, I think I want to be Juliet Seraphina when I grow up. She’s so bold. So confident. And I’m officially obsessed with her art.



Luke: The only difference between you and Juliet Seraphina is that you’re more talented.



I roll my eyes and type out a response.



Me: You’re biased. And you lie.



Luke: I may be biased, but I don’t lie. That gallery display could be yours if you’d just believe in yourself like you believe in me.



His words urge nerves to balloon inside my chest.

God, I wish I had Luke’s confidence. I wish I had his attitude about chasing dreams, and I wish I believed in me like I believe in him. But it’s so hard.

Which is probably why, instead of focusing on my own art, I got a job focusing on other peoples’ art.



Luke: How’s the date going, by the way? Is Marky-Mark and the Funky Bunch everything you thought he’d be?



Me: Well, he’s no Mark Wahlberg and I’m pretty sure he hates art, but he didn’t try to get his cat into the gallery, so I’m calling that a win for now.



Luke: LOL. Why do you think he hates art?



Me: Because he got more excited over the refreshment table than anything else in the room.



Luke: Well, you know, sometimes those art galleries serve really great wine…



Me: You and I both know that’s a lie.



Luke: Yeah. Their wine is shit.



Even though I should probably get back to focusing on my date, I can’t stop myself from asking him one question that’s been bugging me tonight.



Me: Do you think I’m an art snob?



Luke: What do you mean by that?



Me: Like, do I act like I’m better than someone, or maybe internally think that I’m better than someone, because I’m knowledgeable about art?



Luke: No. You’re the complete opposite, Ace. You go out of your way to make someone feel comfortable when they try new things.



Me: Are you sure? You’re not just saying that because you’re my best friend?



Luke: I know for a fact because I don’t know about art, and you never make me feel inferior because of it.



Luke: You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You’re amazing, beautiful, funny, smart, kind. Any guy who can’t see that or thinks otherwise or makes you feel differently about yourself doesn’t deserve your time, okay? Stop feeling like you have to give these guys any of your fucking energy. He doesn’t make you feel good? Send his ass packing, Ace. On to the next.



Instantly, my chest expands at his kind words.

Somehow, Luke never fails to make me feel good about myself or step up to the plate and support me when I need him the most. It’s like he has a sixth sense of what I’m feeling and what I need or don’t need. Even after I’ve put him through the best friend dating wringer.



Me: Thanks, Luke.



Luke: Anytime, Ace. Ride or die, babe.



It’s amazing how vivid the memory of the first time he said that to me is, back when we were sophomores in college. I smile. I can’t help it, but when I spot Mark heading my way with two glasses of wine and a grin, I slip my phone back into my purse.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I spotted a client of mine.”

“Not a problem.” I smile at him and, out of politeness, take a sip of wine from the glass he hands off to me. “And thank you. For the wine.”