This Is My Brain in Love - I. W. Gregorio Page 0,59

sitting next to her, feeling the side of her body pressing into mine.

No distractions.

This summer may very well kill me.

JOCELYN

In theory, my dad’s plan is pretty reasonable, almost enlightened when it comes to Asian parenting culture (thank you, Mr. Cheng). I tell myself to think of it as delayed gratification, as hoops we have to jump through so my dad can save face.

Approximately thirty seconds after Will comes in for work, though, I realize that it’s just torture, plain and simple.

I can’t hug Will. I can’t sit next to him and feel his heat as we pore over advertising ideas. (My dad has demanded a one-foot rule, as if he wants us to leave room for the Holy Spirit.)

And you know, that would all be fine if I didn’t also have to sit across from him and look into his eyes as we discuss financials, and listen to his laugh while we brainstorm more slogans.

This is why I’m an atheist. Any God who thinks hormones are a good idea should be shot.

I try to sublimate my feelings into spreadsheets. After we’ve been working an hour, Amah comes down to be my parents’ eyes and ears as they run a few errands. By then the tension between Will and me has come down to a simmer, which is good because I’m looking through my plan and panicking a bit about where to even start.

“Do you want to divide and conquer with these groups?” I ask him. “You should do the college communications, and I can work on the consumer outreach.” We’d decided to make bookmarks to give out at the bookstore, as well as flyers emphasizing our “Healthy Choices” steamed menu (with brown rice and sauce on the side) that we could post at the LA Fitness down the street. “We can work together to cold-call the drug reps.”

I’m surprised when Will’s expression flattens and he seems to physically fold into himself. When he replies his voice is off. Higher pitched. Nervous? “Actually, I can hand out the flyers at the bookstore and the LA Fitness, since I have a car and can go around. Do you mind handling the calls?”

“Fine.” I shrug. His mother is a doctor—he got us a few more names from her, after all—maybe he had a weird interaction with a drug rep.

Will swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. “I’m sorry,” he says in a more natural voice. “I just… I don’t like calling people I don’t know. Face to face is fine, I’ll drop off the samples at the offices, I’d just prefer not to make calls to the reps.”

“Sure.” I mean, he’s doing all of this for free, basically, so I shouldn’t ask him to do anything that makes him uncomfortable. “It makes more sense for me to call from the restaurant, I guess. More official.”

Will has turtled into a little huddle in front of his computer. “Thanks for understanding,” he says, staring at his keyboard.

“No prob. I’m making the fitness flyer now—we should drop some off at the Y, too. What were the numbers again for what the protein-to-fat ratio is supposed to be after a workout?”

Will is back to normal within a few minutes, and I forget about the little blip in an otherwise clockwork afternoon. It isn’t until weeks later that I look back on that moment and wonder: What if I’d noticed earlier?

This Is My Brain on Solicitation

WILL

The next day, I print off a set of flyers at my mom’s office and head over to LA Fitness. They won’t let me put the flyers up in their locker rooms, but there’s a community bulletin board at the front entrance, and I have enough menus in my trunk to put one under the windshield wipers of each car in the parking lot. My family are regulars at the bookstore, so the people there let me leave some A-Plus bookmarks at their counter when I promise to put out their monthly newsletter with the magazines our customers read when they’re waiting for take-out orders.

When I get back to the restaurant, I’m starving. “Did you have lunch already?” I ask Jos, who is portioning food out for the bento boxes I’m going to distribute in the afternoon.

She shakes her head, concentrating on her work. “Nah, I’m not hungry.” Surprised, I glance at the clock—it’s past two, and I didn’t see her eat anything in the morning. I go back to grab some of the chicken and broccoli that’s always premade for lunch