She抯 up there, with her little red boots, some band t-shirt I don抰 recognize, and a skirt that showcases creamy ivory legs. The shadows from the spotlight and the green and red Christmas lights play on the hollows beneath her cheeks, making the lines of her jaw stand out.
I realize that I know the shape of that jaw and how her cheeks pull up when she grins. How she smiles at Hazel and signs梟ot speaking for my benefit and only signing so that I know when it抯 just between them. How she bites the tip of her thumb when she抯 excited about something. I know how the corners of her lips try to pull down when she frowns條ike the time I firmly declined when she hinted at setting me up with a friend of hers. How the apples of her cheeks make her eyes nearly disappear when she laughs full-out.
Fuck.
I have to tell her. As emotionally suppressed as I am, I know that I have to tell her that I抦 developing feelings for her?I need to give her a chance to separate herself a bit while not cutting her out of Hazel抯 life completely. I抣l have to find a non-lecherous way to tell her that it would be more appropriate for her to maintain some space, to somehow define the boundaries of this relationship. All of the late-night texts come back to me, and I feel a rush of embarrassment. Embarrassed to be pining after this young woman when she抯 been nothing but a friend to us. She might jokingly flirt, but that抯 just her. She jokes.
God damn it, Meyer. You can write a script full of comedic foreshadowing and, yet you still didn抰 see this shit coming?!
And then the other, much tinier voice in my brain has the balls to chime in.
What if she抯 feeling the same way back? What if this is more than friendship, or work, or whatever, to her, too?
I haven抰 dared to let myself think this way in so long?
Before I know it the applause is crackling and I抳e stared, stupefied, for the entirety of her set. My mouth goes dry as she walks toward us, as she looks?different, somehow. Almost shy.
揅an we talk later??I hear my own voice ask.
揧es,?she smiles. Just, yes. No questions or hesitations or worried eyes. Just yes.
I feel myself smile back; a quick, small laugh barks out of me. She smiles bigger but looks down, again being demure. Though, that抯 impossible because this is the same woman who once told me （in these mere months that I抳e known her） that she likes to make lists in the Notes app on her phone while she masturbates, in an effort to try and 搕rain her brain to be more into organization and structure.?She wants organizing to make her excited and is attempting to Pavlov抯-dog herself into it. Shy, she is not. I clamp my lips down to stifle another laugh at the memory of it.
We start making our way to the exit after I grab Farley抯 jacket from the spot behind the bar where she keeps it. We say our quick goodbye抯 to Marissa梩onight抯 bartender and Fee抯 friend since elementary, her bunk-slash-roommate. Marissa also fluently speaks ASL, and Farley抯 been trying to get me to hire her for tutoring, which I plan to take her up on soon.
As I help Fee into her coat, that hopeful, optimistic feeling continues to rise. That feeling starts firing off sparklers when she holds my hand on her shoulder and looks up to smile at me briefly.
Thwap
A towel slaps the back of my head. When I whip around and find Marissa at the end of the bar she yells over the noise, 揗istletoe!?and points to a spot above us.
Fee抯 expression pales and she says 揗arissa, stop it!?before she bolts out the door, holding Hazel抯 hand.
I turn an annoyed glare back at Marissa, but she抯 already been called over to the frat guys again.
揓ones棓 I start, trying to catch up to her.
揇ad?!?she says as I get through the door. I frown as I follow her line of sight and see a man, with her same-colored hair, scowling down at her.
揇ad, what are you doing here??she asks, her entire demeanor shrinking in on itself.
揑 thought I would come convince you to join us for Christmas. When you weren抰 at your place, I figured I might find you here,?he shakes his head, his lip curling in disappointment.
揑 wonder if you can imagine how proud I am? How proud it makes me to see you putting that 720 verbal score to such spectacular use, up there telling stories about shitting yourself and giving blowjobs,?he spits.
揇ad, stop,?she whispers, voice catching on the words.
揊arley, when are you going to learn that this is not a serious career? Don抰 you want to contribute something to society? Actually, to hell with society. Don抰 you want a steady income for yourself? Medical insurance??
揇ad桰抦？I抦 actually starting to do pretty well for myself. I抳e been asked to do shows at quite a few different places around town, and I do桰 do work hard.?Her voice is a hollow shell of itself. Unrecognizable compared to the sweet, booming cadence of her normal tone.
揧ou抮e taking nothing seriously. Nothing. I know you抮e hanging on to some misguided vendetta against me, but I only want what抯 best for you. This梩here抯 no stability. You抮e treating your life like a pinball machine. And you抮e the ball! And who抯 this?! Some guy you抮e sleeping with??He points a finger at me as I tuck Hazel more firmly into my side. 揧ou look like you might have your shit together. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.?
揑抦 her manager, actually,?I say. 揧our daughter here is extremely bright and extremely talented. I抳e been trying to get her on as a client for quite some time. She抯 going to do big things.?
I catch Farley抯 tear-filled eyes, and the gratitude behind them solidifies it. Fuck it, I抣l be a manager. I抣l call in every single one of my favors around here and get her name out there, if only to prove this motherfucker wrong. The rising shock and rage on his face is already worth it.
But that also solidifies another thing. I won抰梒an抰梐buse that position by getting romantically involved. If I manage her and date her, no one will take us seriously when I promote her.
Just like that, the hopeful feeling dies.
A different kind of determination takes its place.
Fee turns toward the car before saying over her shoulder, 揃ye, Dad. Merry Christmas.?
Later, back at the condo, she pours herself another glass of wine as she stuffs candy into Hazel抯 stocking.
揗eyer. I抳e never厰 she blows out a breath, 搕hank you, for what you did back there for me.?
揧ou抮e welcome, Jones.?
揥hat did you?what did you want to talk to me about??her knee bounces anxiously.
揙h?uh梛ust that. I was going to ask you if you抎 want me to manage you.?
揧ou were??
I shrug. 揧eah.?
揟hank you. I can抰 believe it. But thank you.?
Determined to undo whatever damage was done earlier, I tell her, 揥e抣l work out the details later, but I mean it when I tell you that you can make it, Jones. You do this shit for the right reasons. I can tell.?
揥hat are the right reasons??
揗aking people forget that they抮e sad. Bringing people together by making them laugh. It抯 actually fucking beautiful, what you do. What the best comedians do, really?
揝ome people make jokes, and, even when it抯 about political stuff, since it抯 in the form of a joke, people actually listen to it. Even if they don抰 typically want to hear another side, when it抯 disguised as a joke, it clicks in your brain even if you don抰 want it to. You make people see that other angle in life. In uncomfortable situations, you make them want to look for something funny about it. You sneak it in on them in your way.?
She starts to cry, so I apply that logic and slide her wine glass away from her.