You First: A Joe Goldberg Prequel (You, #0)(64)

“Well, like I said, it’s not, you know, forever. Just a sublet for six months and then…”

You look to the left and blush a little, and I know, Vail. I know you want to move in together and I know anyone would tell us it’s too soon to think about that.

“Vail,” I say. “You never know. Things change. Maybe it will be forever.”

Oh, you liked that and I have you right where I want you. Wrapped around my little finger, a finger I never knew I had until I found you. I aced it, the Seduction and the Destruction…It’s second nature to me now. I don’t smother you. I don’t ask when I can see you again and I don’t take the bait when we walk downstairs and you ask if I’d rather live farther east, closer to Virginia.

Girls are funny and I have to laugh at you. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Well, I don’t know. We haven’t talked about stuff and…”

“Vail, I’m not interested in Virginia, or any other girl.”

You look down at the ground like I’m too good to be true. I can barely hear you above the street noise, but I can hear enough. “Oh, Cusack,” you murmur. “You really are the sweetest.”

Yes, I fucking am. You have to go to a night shoot and I lie that I have to get back to the shop. As always, it’s not easy saying goodbye. There are models and modelizers all around us, and it’s fucking scary to fall in love in a place like New York. But we are there, in love. I mean, hello…What “stuff” is there to talk about? You found me a home!

“Okay,” you say. “Time to get back to the real world. Call you later?”

“I’m sure that I’ll call first, Vail. I mean, you got me a fucking house.”

You laugh a little and you blush a little and I get it. This was a first for you. You put yourself out there in a Big way and that’s a big deal for a girl. We part ways and I do the thing we always do where I turn around to find you already waiting for me to see you.

This time is different. You’re not there.

The old me might’ve freaked out. Not the new me. They talk about this in books, in songs. Things that get too good too fast tend to crash and burn. Girls get scared when they give a guy a lot. You made a grand gesture and it’s my turn. The best grand gestures are sometimes small.

Fuck it. I call you. You pick up right away. “That was fast. Is everything okay?”

“It’s the nicest thing anyone ever did for me, Vail. I wanted you to know.”

The quick call was a good call, and of fucking course it was. I’m a cool cat…tapping on the toe with a new hat. RIP Amelia Bedelia. Mr. Big does everything right.





22


It’s been three weeks, and you basically live with me. It started one night when you called me, exasperated, something about crabs and Cynthia. I told you to come over. I think you were lying—Carrie and The Others had a crab attack in the Hamptons—but who cares! You showed up with a backpack and a toothbrush that you stashed in the cup next to my toothbrush. I’m not Mr. Big. I didn’t pack up your stuff. I love your stuff in my place! I love using your toothbrush too. It’s soft. Last night you got a little testy when you found it all wet, but I saw you smile. You looked like Carrie when Big lends her one of his toothbrushes. And real life is supposed to be messier than TV. More saliva, less money. Everything clicks. You slept over and we’re about to part ways and I tell you it’s bullshit, the way we have to care about anything besides us.

And then you wince. Too much? Too pathetic?

“No, Joe. You’re adorable…” I’m adorable. “It’s just…it’s a little early but there’s no way to not tell you…. It’s my birthday on Friday.”

I know about your birthday. The other night, Cynthia spilled the beans while you were in the bathroom. I think I know what I’m gonna get you. “Cool.”

“If you’re busy, it’s okay…. I feel like I’m sucking up all of your time as it is.”

I wink at you and smile. “And then some.”

You lick your lips. “So I’m having a tiny get-together at Botanica at eight in that back room. It’s nothing major, just a quarter-life crisis hen party I planned before we…I’m such a Pisces and I hate my birthday. There is truly nothing worse than being the center of attention. And I’m not putting any pressure on you.”

I knew you were part astrology slut and it’s almost refreshing. Like all girls might be the same seeker underneath. I laugh. “I get you.”

“Joe, seriously. You don’t have to go. And I don’t expect you to get me a present and I’m not trying to like…you know…I know you’re not my boyfriend.”

It’s the best worst thing you ever said to me, and I can already see you bouncing off the walls in a sexy little slip dress, clocking me as I walk into the bar with a dozen roses, a mixtape called Pop Rocks and a raspberry beret. I will charm your friends, but I won’t be too charming—your Vagina envy is real—and I can’t wait for a new kind of sex…birthday sex.

“We’ll see how it goes,” I say. “I’ll try to stop by.”

I played it cool because you play it cool but of course I’m your fucking boyfriend. Fact: The other day, you begged me to play hooky. I caved, as good boyfriends do, and we watched a few episodes of your show. You love it when I yell at the TV like it’s sports. I was Mr. Fun Boyfriend. I put on my show for you, playing the dumb guy who thinks Big is the problem. Man up, Big! Stop dicking her around! You peed your panties, you were laughing that hard. Would I do that for you if I wasn’t your boyfriend? Would you hang your panties in my shower and wear my sweats if you weren’t my girlfriend?