Page 103 of Fun Together
“Yes, you can.”
I’m in my kitchen, FaceTiming Eli while I fix my coffee before heading to the office.
“I’m going to forget everything I’ve ever accomplished. They’re going to be mean to me.”
I slept maybe three hours last night and my eyelids feel like sandpaper. I didn’t want to wake him up early to bother him with my mini meltdown about my interview this morning, but Rett is still back home, and I didn’t want her to feel obligated to help me when she has so much going on right now. I talked to her briefly on the phone last night to check in to make sure she was okay, and to tell her that she was right about Eli and I having sex before the month was out. Her response was to scream, “Yes!” over and over for thirty seconds straight.
“Once you’re there, you’ll feel better,” he says. “And why would they be mean to you?”
“Because it’s going to be obvious that I’ve never done anything even remotely close to this job and they’re going to be annoyed I’ve wasted their time.” I set my phone down so that he’s now facing my water-stained ceiling. “I’m sorry I called and woke you up. I don’t even think I can be perceived right now. I’ll call you later.”
“Can you pick up the phone and look at me? I need to tell you a story.”
I pick it up and there is his lovely, sleepy, handsome face. He’s laying in bed, and it hurts how much I want to be there with him, forgetting about the list, the job, everything. “You can’t distract me.”
“It’s a story about you. Do you remember the first time we met?”
“The football game, junior year?” I remember going to the tailgate with Andrew, our first outing together as a couple, and meeting Eli and some other friends.
“No. Well, I guess that was the first time we officially met, but we actually spoke to each other briefly before that.”
“We did?”
“At freshman orientation. You were in my group.”
I don’t recall meeting him there. All I remember is being led around campus on a hot July day in North Carolina, and having to make huge decisions about my future as a seventeen-year-old. “Are you sure?” I ask.
“We were doing this icebreaker activity where they passed a roll of toilet paper around and asked each of us to take some, but they didn’t tell us why.”
I groan. “This I remember.”
“I was sitting next to you, and you tookso muchtoilet paper.”
“Why are you making me relive this?” Why don’t I remember Eli being there?
“Then, when they said we had to tell a fun fact about ourselves for each section of toilet paper we’d grabbed, I’ll never forget the look on your face.”
I remember looking down at how much toilet paper I had in my hands and thinking,this is it, I’m going to have to switch schools. By fact number ten, I was making everything up. “Needless to say, I do not know how to play the clarinet.” I am laughing now, because I can finally see the humor in it.
“I remember thinking you were so cute.”
“Why are you even bringing that day up?”
“Because it helps you remember that even if you majorly fuck this interview up, it’s not the end of the world. Just another random blip in your life that no one will remember.”
“Clearly you remember it, though.”
“I only remember that because it’s you.”
I don’t know what to say to that because what I really want to ask,Why didn’t you talk to me then? Why didn’t I know you before everything else?
“But I really don’t want to fuck this up.”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“I’ll answer a question so badly they’ll think I’m the dumbest person they’ve ever met, and tell me to get out because they can’t even conceive of giving me this job.”
“Okay, let’s say that happens. Then what?”
