Page 12 of You Were Mine

I wince. “Still, that sucks,” I offer.

“Yeah. I know, right? I ended up transferring and getting my degree in biology. I didn’t reallywantit, but I’d already got halfway through. I figured I might as well get something for my effort.”

I nod. “I’m aiming for a doctorate. I figured that if I’m driving myself that far in debt with student loans, I might as well get a fancy title out of it, you know?”

And if I ever get that doctorate, I’m ninety percent sure I’m going to turn into one of those obnoxious people who insists on being referred to as “Doctor” who puts his title all over his credit cards. I might even get a checkbook just to have my name on the checks, even though I only use credit cards.

Brandon laughs. “I guess you might as well. But I guess it’s worked out okay. My father runs a charity thing, and I’m helping him out part-time with it.”

“A charity thing?”

“Yeah. My father runs a charity that helps at-risk youth. They’re the ones who throw the massive gala in the art museum every Halloween.”

“Oh,thatgala.”

I’d looked at tickets for that gala once, and the cheapest one was two-thousand dollars. It wasdefinitelyout of my price range. Logan could afford it if he wanted to go, but he prefers to spend his Halloweens in bars and doing shots with friends from campus. I like alcohol just fine, but I always end up being the sober driver when I go out partying with Logan. Self-control is one of his weak points; especially when he’s drunk. When drunk, it’s like Logan sees thin ice and dives in face-first.

“That’s really cool,” I say. “I’ve always wanted to go to one of those.” (Naw, that’s a lie.)

That’s notentirelyfalse. I do think it would be helpful to go to the gala and network with professionals and people in the art world, but otherwise, I could not be less interested. And I’ve been to that museum plenty of times. I know (almost intimately) every painting, sculpture, and drawing inside that building.

“Have you?” Brandon asks. “We should go then. It’ll be fun.”

I pause, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly.

“That’s expensive,” I finally say.

Because Brandon, who is taking over his father’s charity,totallywon’t know that tickets to his gala are expensive. Riiight!

He waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll comp your ticket,” he insists. “It’ll be fun.”

I don’t know about that. It sounds like a bunch of rich snobs wandering around a museum. Admittedly, my best friend is fabulously wealthy, but he’s not the typical rich guy. Not that I’vemetany super-wealthy people, but I can sort of imagine what they’re like. Logan is much more down-to-earth than those people, and thus far, to my surprise, it seems like Brandon is, too.

“Do you mean, like, we’d go as a date?” I ask, trying to get the tone right.

I have no idea if Brandon is attracted to men or even how he feels about men being attracted to other men; it never came up. So, it’s best to play it safe until I know for sure. I can claim I was joking if he receives the question poorly.

“I wouldn’t mind calling it a date,” Brandon replies smiling and reaching across the table to place his hand on mine. “You’re really cute, you know? Even back when we were classmates, I thought you were really cute.”

He thought I wascute!HethinksI’m cutenow! What on earth do I do withthisnews? Like, I don’t think I’m bad looking, but I also don’t look like some Nordic god fallen to earth.

Now Brandon,hedoes.

But for a split second, it’s like the two of us are the only people left in the world. Hedoeswant to date me. I start to blush.

That’s incredible and nice, and Logan will never,everlet me live it down.

“I’m... flattered,” I say, unsure what else to go with.

“So, is that a ‘yes’?” he asks.

I consider it. Obviously, I know that the answershouldbe ‘yes’. As an art student who is about to get a master’s, it’s wise to communicate and connect with as many people as possible, so even if I’d rather lie around the apartment and do nothing all day, sometimes going to galas and such becomes a “necessary evil”

“I’ll have to think about it,” I say. “I usually have plans on Halloween. If that transpires, we can raincheck and do something else together.”

“I can work with that,” Brandon replies, going back to circling the rim of his mint tea, “But let me know if you can. Otherwise, I’ll have to take my sister with me. Social functions aresoawkward if you have to show up alone.”

I get the “being alone” thing. It doesn’t bothermeso much, but Logan insists he has to get someone to go with him everywherehegoes. That’s how I get dragged to some really shady clubs, haunted houses, and in one memorable instance, a house that was really old (actually looked like it should be torn down) that Logan insisted we justhadto investigate. The door was locked, which should have been a tipoff. The elderly couple living there caught us sneaking through a window. We’re lucky we didn’t get arrested. Good ol’ Logan conjured up a clever excuse.

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