Page 22 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“Anything for my favorite little sister,” says Miles, wrapping an arm around Isla’s shoulders and pulling her roughly to his side.

“Let go,” she grunts, pulling out of his grip.

I smile at their backs. Despite the attacks on my sense of style–or lack thereof–I’m glad to have people like them in my life. I just wish they’d let me be the hermit I want to be sometimes.

“How about Mendo?” asks Miles.

“That’s a little out of the way, isn’t it?” Isla turns to me. “Brody, don’t you have to get back?”

“It’s fine. Mel won’t miss me.” And neither will the system I’m trying to debug.

Isla agrees to follow us to the restaurant.

“So have you matched with anyone yet? Or talked to anyone or however this app works?” asks Isla.

“I’ve gotten some messages.” I rub the back of my neck, looking down at the sidewalk. “And I’ve been doing my homework,” I shoot at Miles.

“No one interesting?” He raises his eyebrows.

“I didn’t say that.”

That stops them in their tracks. Eyes still downcast, I nearly run into Miles before I realize they’ve halted.

“Wait, really?” asks Isla. She and Miles are staring at me again and I force myself to meet her eyes. There’s way too much joy there.

“It was just a conversation,” I say. If this is their reaction to a simple connection, I’m afraid of what they’ll say when I mention that we already have a date planned.

“That’s a step!”

“Any signs she’s crazy?” asks Miles, arms crossed over his chest, looking defensive. I can’t figure out why that would be. This is a step in the right direction, isn’t it? It’s his goal.

“Not yet.” Do I say it? “We’re meeting for dinner on Monday.” I said it.

I’d forgotten Isla could squeal that loud. Ears ringing, I stare at her in shock while she bounces on the balls of her feet in front of me. Her hands are balled into fists in front of her mouth.

“A date?” she asks with a muffled squeak.

“Just dinner at a brewery.”

“That place over on Wilshire?” asks Miles.

I chose what we both consider to be our place–his and mine. We go there for each other’s birthdays or other celebratory dinners, like when we first moved in together.

“Yeah, I thought it was nice but nottoonice. No pressure, you know?” I ask, still trying to figure out his expression.

“I think that’s great,” says Isla. She’s still bouncing. I can almost feel the vibrations from here.

“Can we please go to lunch now?” I just want to get home and get back to work.

7

Sophie

Lost in my book–a paranormal romance about a demon and a very stressed-out woman in need of a good fuck–I don’t realize that we’re descending until the plane jostles, hitting the ground in Burbank. I’ve been reading for six straight hours with no pause. Not even to drink water, I realize with guilt.

Even with a layover in Chicago, it’s still early in the day. As the plane slows and we taxi to the gate, I lean forward to pack up my book and my headphones. I turn off airplane mode and send a quick text to Natalie that we’ve landed so she can hop in the car. Flying into Burbank instead of LAX means that Natalie and I live a whole lot closer, making it significantly faster to get checked in and through security as well as home at the end of a long trip. Driving all the way to and from LAX would take half the day.

Without my headphones, I’m forced to listen to the sounds of the plane. A kid a few rows behind me is asking their mother why they have to remain seated. Mom says it’s because it’s not safe to get up until we stop, just like in a car. A man a little further away is already on his phone and it sounds like a business call. I roll my eyes, but at least he doesn’t have it on speaker for everyone to hear.

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