Page 9 of Between Us

Not fighting the small smile that pulls at my lips, I tell my dad, “That makes sense.”

And it does. He’s never pressured my brother, Grady, or I to follow in his footsteps. And even though he’s told us he wasn’t a particularly athletic kid himself, he made it his mission to be the best baseball and swim dad out there.

To learn how much he’d enjoy having that mentor-mentee relationship with someone makes me want it for him, and weirdly appreciative for this Adrian person.

Before he goes back to grab the phone, he looks down at his watch. “You better get going, honey. I know you have your own phone call to make.”

I jump up and give him a quick side hug. “Thanks, Dad. And I’m really happy that you’re excited about this new employee.”

With a kiss to my head and a smile, he gestures for me to head out at the same moment that the evening receptionist is walking inside.

Chapter Three

Blake

Eagerly,Ijogtomy car and hurry to connect my phone’s Bluetooth. Margo is a stickler when it comes to time management, whereas Meera often gets lost in her art and her own head. So, when we decide on a time, we all know to set an alarm.

And only seconds after the clock hits our agreed time does my phone start ringing.

“Hi,” I greet as I finish getting settled in my car and turn the volume up. My plan is to swim a few laps since I didn’t make it to the gym’s pool this morning. We usually talk for about an hour and a half, so I decide to take a drive up Pacific Coast Highway and loop back down.

I’ve made the mistake of going home while on one of our calls, losing all motivation to go to the pool by the end of it. And even more so than knitting and crocheting, that is my biggest comfort and has been long before either of those hobbies.

“Oh my God, I miss you,” Meera instantly blurts out.

Chuckling, I tell her, “I miss you guys too.” It comes out more casual than it feels. Against Catalina’s advice, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t allow my friends to worry about me instead of living their new lives. They’ve spent enough time doing that.

“Obviously that goes without being said,” Margo states. “Let’s save the sappy shit until the end. Instead, tell Blake more about the hot TA.”

Awkwardly giggling, Meera goes into a new story about the hot TA she’s been flirting with for the last few weeks. She had immediately called two nights after getting to New York City to tell me about the guy she just met at a random record shop she found with Margo. It was a total meet-cute moment, according to her. They both had shown up to the store and wanted the same album—a first pressing ofElgar: Cello Concerto in E Minor, Op. 85with cellist Jacqueline du Pré.

I can imagine that exact rendition sounds like, and what the album looks like, because Meera’s been searching for it for years.

After a ‘heated but flirtatious argument,’ he agreed to let her have it as long as he could know her name.Her name.That’s it—not her number or anything else. Obviously, she agreed, even if she would’ve been willing to give him a lot more than that. Her words, not mine.

The serendipitous meeting was ruined for her as soon as she walked into one of her introductory courses, and he was handing out the syllabi. According to Margo, it only adds to the romcom-esque vibes rather than deters it. Meera doesn’t agree, but they’ve already run into each other three completely random times. So, personally, I’m with Margo on this one.

Out of the three of us, Margo probably had the easiest time dating, keeping in mind she was still a teenage girl dating high school boys. So that’s… subjective. She’s had both casual flings and exclusive boyfriends. I say she’s had the easiest time because she’s tall, outgoing, and gorgeous. And all of her relationships have ended on her terms—usually a mix of boredom and a delusional belief she’s meant to end up with Meera’s oldest brother Jatin.

Meera, on the other hand, has had two long-term boyfriends. And even though they both ended, she’d be the first to admit that they were ‘pretty epic’ and definitely something you’d see on the CW. So, the cards are totally in her favor for this to be her next star-crossed lover.

I fall on the opposite spectrum of Meera. I’ve never had a long-term relationship, and the closest thing I’ve had to an exclusive one was an agreement that we were physically intimate with only each other. Everything else has been a random hook-up or a short-lived fling. Sometimes it’s what I wanted, sometimes it’s all that was offered.

After her long-winded story, with every unimportant minute detail possible, Meera takes a loud, deep breath and pleads, “Someone else, please, talk. I’m tired of my voice. Let me hear yours.”

Margo laughs and calls her dramatic, but she goes next. It’s no surprise that Margo’s fitting into the eccentricity of New York City perfectly. She’s excited for most of her projects this semester, and there’s a small venue she went to with some of her classmates that features local metal bands.

SPA wasn’t as hard on Margo and Meera as it was on me, but that doesn’t mean it was easy either. So, the ache in my chest isn’t only from sadness. There’s also a lot of happiness in hearing how well they’re doing out there.

“Blake’s turn,” Meera singsongs. “What’s new with you?”

Failing to fight my sarcastic snort, I flip down my sun visor and cheerfully say, “Oh, you know—absolutely nothing.” I’m not trying to be pitiful; it’s just the truth.

“There has to be something. Anything.Onething,” Margo insists, but it sounds like she’s brushing her teeth as she’s talking. They’re a few hours ahead of me now, and she’s probably getting ready to go out for the evening.

The only thing that comes to mind is how my dad’s hiring a few new employees, although I still don’t know why my thoughts linger on it. I consider asking them if we even know an Adrian, considering most of the boys our age I do know are through their brothers, or my own, since we went to an all-girls school. But my dad said he’s already finished with his bachelor’s degree and in his first year of his program. So, the chances we knowthatAdrian are unlikely.

Choosing not to ask, I tell them about the painting class I’ve been attending with my mom and her best friend, Bonnie. All three of us are terrible, but there’s wine for them and I’m the DD. And about how I’ve been reading at the library a couple weekends a month when they need someone to fill in for the kid’s stories.

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