Page 2 of Happiness for Beginners

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him. I’d certainly never noticed he’d cut off all that nasty hair and spiked it into a dark Speed Racer look. I guess sometimes you just get an idea of a person in your mind, and that’s what you see when you look at him, no matter what.

“It could be the glasses,” he offered.

I frowned.

“The new glasses,” he said, tapping them. “I never wore glasses before this year.”

“Oh,” I said. “Right.” It was becoming quite clear to me—and likely to him, too—that I’d never really looked at him before. He might have insisted he’d always worn a pirate patch, and I couldn’t have argued.

“I like them,” I said then.

“They’re very Nixon administration,” he said. “Duncan’s started calling me Apollo Thirteen.”

So there we had it. Haircut, hipster glasses, and the mysterious addition of all kinds of muscles. Three was a magic number after all. “Well,” I said, looking away. “It’s a thousand times better.”

“Thanks.”

Another pause.

“Are you looking for Duncan?” Jake asked then.

“Yes!” I said, and it all came back—how mad I was. “He’s supposed to dog-sit for me.”

“That’s a dog in there?” He peered in. Pickle growled.

The music outside the bedroom seemed to get louder. “We were supposed to do a drop-off tonight,” I said. “Duncan was not supposed to be hostingGirls Gone Wild.”

Jake wrinkled his nose in apology. “He probably forgot.”

“Of course he forgot,” I said. “It’sDuncan. And that’s why I’m leaving. But first I want to thank him profusely for letting me down. Again.”

Jake nodded like he really got it. “He’s big on the offering, not so big on the actual doing.”

I shook my head at my own stupidity. “I never should have agreed.”

“It’s hard, though,” Jake said. “He really means it when he offers. You just have to train yourself to say no. I’ve got it on a tattoo:ALWAYS SAY NO TO DUNCAN.”

I tilted my head. “Really?”

He smiled like I was adorable. “Not really. I’m kidding.”

I sighed.

“Great ponytails, by the way,” he added.

Pickle started barking then—loudly, over and over. “Do you know where Duncan is?” I asked.

He nodded. “He’s in my room. That’s why I’m here.”

I shook my head. “Why aren’t either of you actuallyattendingyour own party?”

“Um,” Jake said, turning his eyes up to the ceiling to think. “Well, I’m in the middle of this great book, so I took a bartending break to see what happens next, but I’m pretty sure Duncan might be getting lucky.”

I put my hand over my eyes. “Please tell me you’re kidding again.”

“Nope,” he said. “I seem to be sexiled.”

I dropped my hand to look at him.

---