be careful; aren’t we supposed to get, like, the blizzard of the century tonight?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I say, but snow is hardly the first thing on my mind right now. Mainly I’m thinking: if this is the last time I’m going to see Drew, then what should I do? I should play it safe, be professional, leave it at that. Right?
Or. Maybe Chloe’s right. Maybe this, all of this confusion, was our rom-com obstacle and I’m going to, improbably, have a happily-ever-after with this beautiful man who—
Is going to New York at the end of the weekend, I remind myself. After which he will definitely not be back in Columbus, because he doesn’t live here. I, meanwhile, have built my entire, unchangeable life here. I may not have access to a Magic 8 Ball right at the moment, but I know that if I were to shake it, it would say “Outlook Not So Good.”
Or maybe it would say “Ask Again Later.” I tended to get that response a lot at sleepovers.
“What are you wearing?” Chloe asks, leaning over the counter.
“Um, this?” I say. I unzip the puffy black coat I wear from November through March and reveal the large gray sweater I’m wearing under it.
Chloe tilts her head and squints. “I can only assume you intend that sweater to function as a sort of chastity belt.”
I give her an angry look, but the truth is . . . well, kind of.
But at this point, I can’t stall any longer. “Well, I’m off, I guess.”
Chloe reaches across the counter and grabs my hands. “Good luck. Maybe you can drink so much that you get really sick and barf everywhere and Drew has to take care of you and in the process of nursing you back to health you’ll realize that—”
“Chloe! How have you absorbed so many rom-com plotlines?”
She shrugs. “Just text me if you guys hook up, and make sure to include lots of details. Circumcised, uncircumcised—”
“I’m not going to text you about his penis,” I say. “And on that note, I’m leaving.”
I wave as I walk past Gary, who gives me a salute, and out the door.
A few tiny flakes of snow are hitting the sidewalk, but nothing like the huge snowstorm that’s been promised. Either way, I’m glad that Uncle Don arrived safely in Chicago—he sent me a selfie of all the guys and their gear in their hotel room.
It’s one of those magical nights in the city, when the lights make the darkness look cozy instead of bleak. Those few snowflakes look almost like glitter raining down, and people walk past me holding coffee cups and bags of macarons from the bakery Pistacia Vera. The Coatless Wonder strolls by, hands in his pockets, unconcerned as ever about the cold.
At the bar, I hesitate with my hand on the door. I see the dim lighting inside, silhouettes of people moving, and I hear the clink of glasses and the gentle hum of conversation punctuated by an occasional sharp laugh. What if Drew says something like, “Ew, no, I don’t want to see your screenplay, I was only asking because I wanted you to sleep with me.”
Which, to be fair, doesn’t really sound like him, but you never know.
“Oh, hey.”
I turn around to see Brody standing behind me, a beanie shoved on his head and a scarf wrapped around his neck.
“Hi. Hey. Hello,” I say, startled.
“Are you, uh . . . not going in?” he asks, gesturing toward the door.
“Oh!” I look at the door as if it suddenly appeared and, wow, there’s a door here! Who knew! “I’m going in. I’m just . . .”
He leans forward. “Do you want someone to walk in with?”
That is what I want. Maybe one of the worst minor awkward situations is walking into a room where you know no one, or, in this case, walking into a room where you know a few people and searching the crowd for them with your eyes while trying to act like you’re totally comfortable.
“Yeah,” I say. “Actually, that would be really nice.”
His smile takes over his face and I can see why he’s famous. He’s a lot shorter and stockier than Drew, but he has an honest, open expression.
He walks around me and holds open the door, gesturing for me to go inside. The wave of sound crashes over me, the conversations and glasses much louder than they were outside. Brody places an arm lightly on my back, guiding me through the crowd, careful