Isla and the Happily Ever After
Page 56
Josh opens the museum door for me. His teeth are gritted.
“Knowing all of these people and things that I don’t.” Shut. Up.
“Yeah, because they’ve been a part of my life for, like, ever. I’m not gonna be a dick in front of the people who keep my dad in office.”
“I know! And I know you’re a part of this life, so you have to act like that—”
“I don’t have to do anything. I choose to be a decent person.”
It’s a sword through the chest. I’ve gone too far. I’ve gone way, way too far. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know why…”
“Forget it.” But his head is turned away from mine. He’s scanning the line of cars for Brian, but, really, it’s an excuse not to look at me. I can’t blame him. Why couldn’t I keep my stupid insecurities to myself?
It’s freezing, and I wish I’d brought my winter coat. For the first time ever, either Josh doesn’t notice that I’m shivering or he chooses not to offer me his jacket. Not that he should have to give it to me. It’s my own fault for leaving my coat behind during the excitement of his arrival at my house.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
He shrugs.
“Do you still wanna get something to eat?”
“Of course.” Josh sounds surprised. He pulls his hands from his pockets and crosses his arms. After a minute of uneasy silence, he uncrosses them and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, too. For bringing you. Not that I didn’t want you here,” he adds quickly, “but because I knew it would suck. These things always do. Not that all of that sucked,” he adds again. “Twenty minutes of it were fantastic.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I stare at the pavement. “You have this big life that I’m not a part of. And I wanted to see it.”
Josh’s frown deepens.
I open my mouth to try again when a black town car pulls up to the kerb and flashes its lights. The wind turns abrasive as we hurry towards it. The locks pop, Josh opens the back door, and we slide inside.
“Sorry I’m late,” Brian says. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour.”
Josh shakes his head. “No problem. You know how these events are.”
“Do I ever.” Brian grins at us in the rear-view mirror. “You’ve got ninety minutes before curfew. Can I take you somewhere else?”
Josh leans forward in his seat. “You know that café on Amsterdam? Kismet?”
Brian snorts. It tells me that he already knows the story. “I think I can find the place.”
“Thanks.” Josh sits back. And then he turns to me with a sudden alarm. “Is that okay? Sorry, I’m still in stupid party mode. I didn’t even ask. I know we’re going there for New Year’s, but I thought an early visit would be nice. For nostalgia’s sake.”
“No, it’s perfect.” I force a smile. “Thanks, Brian.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he says.
But the feeling inside the car is not perfection. There’s no hand holding. We’re quiet and ill at ease. As Brian merges into traffic, he tries to lighten the mood. “So, Isla. Did you get to see any of the museum?”
It’s a leading question. Clearly, Josh tells him a lot of things. “I did.”
“Aaaaand?”
I force another cheerful smile. “It was a beautiful gift.”
He pumps his fist. “Nice.”
“Went off without a hitch,” Josh says. “Thank you, Chuck.”
“Thank you, Chuck!” Brian repeats.
They discuss the plan, some last-minute part of the arrangement with Chuck that Brian hadn’t heard yet, and I squirm in my seat. How many people knew about this? Has Josh done this sort of thing before? The less private it gets, the more uncomfortable I feel.
There’s something I shouldn’t say, but for some terrible and unknown reason, I have to say anyway. I should save it for a more appropriate, less emotionally stressed day. I should save it for when we’re alone. I shouldn’t ever say it. Don’t say it.
“Rashmi likes ancient Egypt, doesn’t she?” I ask.
Shit.
“What?” Josh’s response is sharp as his attention snaps from Brian to me.
“I— I mean, in your book. Her rabbit, Isis. And then she goes to Brown to study Egyptology.”
“Yeah, she goes to Brown because she goes there. Those things are true.”
“And there’s that drawing of her as an Egyptian goddess.” I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. And I’m saying it in front of Brian. I don’t know what’s happening, but something inside of me has short-circuited. I’m freaking out. The Egyptian thing is a coincidence, I know this, but I can’t stop. “Was that how you knew about the temple?”
His brow furrows in angry confusion. “Huh?”
“The Temple of Dendur. Did you ever take her there?”
Josh gathers himself. “First of all, I like the reflecting pool. I wanted some time alone with you tonight, so I chose – what I thought was – the museum’s nicest room. Second of all, no. I did not take you someplace where I previously made out with my ex-girlfriend. Or whatever else it is you think we might have done in there.”
“Well, I know that much. If you’d done anything more, I would have read about it. Very graphically! In your graphic memoir.”
Time stops.
And that’s when I know that I’ve just said the worst thing that I’ll ever say in my entire life. And I’ve said it to the person whom I love the most.
Josh’s voice is deadly quiet. “Anything else you’d like to share with me right now? Any additional criticisms of me or my work?”
I want to speak. I want to apologize. This isn’t about his ex or his work. I have no idea why I just said those things. I’m confused. I’m not sure why I feel this upset, why I’m picking fights about things that don’t even matter.
Brian glances at me in the rear-view mirror, and his expression is unbearably strained, as if he’d jump through the car window if he could fit through the hole.
“No. Really,” Josh continues. “As long as you’re finally opening up to me, why don’t you go on? Tell me what else is wrong with my book.”
“Knowing all of these people and things that I don’t.” Shut. Up.
“Yeah, because they’ve been a part of my life for, like, ever. I’m not gonna be a dick in front of the people who keep my dad in office.”
“I know! And I know you’re a part of this life, so you have to act like that—”
“I don’t have to do anything. I choose to be a decent person.”
It’s a sword through the chest. I’ve gone too far. I’ve gone way, way too far. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know why…”
“Forget it.” But his head is turned away from mine. He’s scanning the line of cars for Brian, but, really, it’s an excuse not to look at me. I can’t blame him. Why couldn’t I keep my stupid insecurities to myself?
It’s freezing, and I wish I’d brought my winter coat. For the first time ever, either Josh doesn’t notice that I’m shivering or he chooses not to offer me his jacket. Not that he should have to give it to me. It’s my own fault for leaving my coat behind during the excitement of his arrival at my house.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
He shrugs.
“Do you still wanna get something to eat?”
“Of course.” Josh sounds surprised. He pulls his hands from his pockets and crosses his arms. After a minute of uneasy silence, he uncrosses them and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, too. For bringing you. Not that I didn’t want you here,” he adds quickly, “but because I knew it would suck. These things always do. Not that all of that sucked,” he adds again. “Twenty minutes of it were fantastic.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I stare at the pavement. “You have this big life that I’m not a part of. And I wanted to see it.”
Josh’s frown deepens.
I open my mouth to try again when a black town car pulls up to the kerb and flashes its lights. The wind turns abrasive as we hurry towards it. The locks pop, Josh opens the back door, and we slide inside.
“Sorry I’m late,” Brian says. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour.”
Josh shakes his head. “No problem. You know how these events are.”
“Do I ever.” Brian grins at us in the rear-view mirror. “You’ve got ninety minutes before curfew. Can I take you somewhere else?”
Josh leans forward in his seat. “You know that café on Amsterdam? Kismet?”
Brian snorts. It tells me that he already knows the story. “I think I can find the place.”
“Thanks.” Josh sits back. And then he turns to me with a sudden alarm. “Is that okay? Sorry, I’m still in stupid party mode. I didn’t even ask. I know we’re going there for New Year’s, but I thought an early visit would be nice. For nostalgia’s sake.”
“No, it’s perfect.” I force a smile. “Thanks, Brian.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he says.
But the feeling inside the car is not perfection. There’s no hand holding. We’re quiet and ill at ease. As Brian merges into traffic, he tries to lighten the mood. “So, Isla. Did you get to see any of the museum?”
It’s a leading question. Clearly, Josh tells him a lot of things. “I did.”
“Aaaaand?”
I force another cheerful smile. “It was a beautiful gift.”
He pumps his fist. “Nice.”
“Went off without a hitch,” Josh says. “Thank you, Chuck.”
“Thank you, Chuck!” Brian repeats.
They discuss the plan, some last-minute part of the arrangement with Chuck that Brian hadn’t heard yet, and I squirm in my seat. How many people knew about this? Has Josh done this sort of thing before? The less private it gets, the more uncomfortable I feel.
There’s something I shouldn’t say, but for some terrible and unknown reason, I have to say anyway. I should save it for a more appropriate, less emotionally stressed day. I should save it for when we’re alone. I shouldn’t ever say it. Don’t say it.
“Rashmi likes ancient Egypt, doesn’t she?” I ask.
Shit.
“What?” Josh’s response is sharp as his attention snaps from Brian to me.
“I— I mean, in your book. Her rabbit, Isis. And then she goes to Brown to study Egyptology.”
“Yeah, she goes to Brown because she goes there. Those things are true.”
“And there’s that drawing of her as an Egyptian goddess.” I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. And I’m saying it in front of Brian. I don’t know what’s happening, but something inside of me has short-circuited. I’m freaking out. The Egyptian thing is a coincidence, I know this, but I can’t stop. “Was that how you knew about the temple?”
His brow furrows in angry confusion. “Huh?”
“The Temple of Dendur. Did you ever take her there?”
Josh gathers himself. “First of all, I like the reflecting pool. I wanted some time alone with you tonight, so I chose – what I thought was – the museum’s nicest room. Second of all, no. I did not take you someplace where I previously made out with my ex-girlfriend. Or whatever else it is you think we might have done in there.”
“Well, I know that much. If you’d done anything more, I would have read about it. Very graphically! In your graphic memoir.”
Time stops.
And that’s when I know that I’ve just said the worst thing that I’ll ever say in my entire life. And I’ve said it to the person whom I love the most.
Josh’s voice is deadly quiet. “Anything else you’d like to share with me right now? Any additional criticisms of me or my work?”
I want to speak. I want to apologize. This isn’t about his ex or his work. I have no idea why I just said those things. I’m confused. I’m not sure why I feel this upset, why I’m picking fights about things that don’t even matter.
Brian glances at me in the rear-view mirror, and his expression is unbearably strained, as if he’d jump through the car window if he could fit through the hole.
“No. Really,” Josh continues. “As long as you’re finally opening up to me, why don’t you go on? Tell me what else is wrong with my book.”
