“O-kay.”
“And you should care—he’s cute.”
“He’s probably looking at you,” I said, picturing Zack yet again and feeling the sad return. “Or looking at me and wishing I looked more like Kelsie Kirchner.”
“Will you stop with that?” Nekesa said, shooting me a glare that said she was over my lovesick whining. “Christ.”
And I got it. I’m sure it was super annoying to hang out with someone who couldn’t get over their ex, especially when Nekesa and her boyfriend were madly in love with each other.
Which was why I was so grateful for Eva and Emma; they didn’t mind my whining.
The three of us were so the same when it came to guys.
Last night, each of us posted an aesthetic video about the new Emily Henry book. It was a total coincidence, a coincidence that led to an hours-long group text where we commiserated about how much we’d loved the book and how unfair it was that her heroes didn’t exist in real life.
With Eva and Em, I didn’t feel like I had to get over my feelings. They were the friends who allowed me to wallow while also sending me playlists and F1 memes. They were the friends who shared my need to jump wholeheartedly into fictional romances, simply because escaping into the joy of what I didn’t have was somehow comforting and hopeful.
God, I wished I were in my room right now, rereading that Emily Henry book.
But—ahem—I wasn’t.
I glanced out of the corner of my eye in the direction of Jupiter, trying to be discreet as I looked for the dude Nekesa was referring to, but I couldn’t stop my loud gasp when I saw him.
It was impossible.
Impossible.
I squinted and craned my neck, but there was no denying the truth.
No, no, no, no, noooooo.
It couldn’t be. There was just no. Way.
Mr. Nothing.
CHAPTER SEVEN Bailey
“Oh my God.” I couldn’t believe it. Mr. Nothing was bouncing at my new job; what were the odds? Howwwww is this happening?? I tried to sound casual and like I didn’t care as I stared in his direction and whispered, “I know that guy.”
“He’s hot.”
“Is he?” I tilted my head and tried to appraise him as he jumped. He was tall, dark-haired, and broad-shouldered—objectively a handsome human, I supposed—but it was impossible for me to see past his Mr. Nothing face.
I could still hear his deep voice moaning about questionable meat on the airplane.
Nekesa tilted her head too, and said, “Totally hot. How do you know him?”
I knew what she meant, but it irritated me at the same time that it made total sense. I didn’t ever put myself out there and talk to guys, especially not “hot” guys that I didn’t know, so the question was valid.
Still, it felt not great.
The DJ raised the volume on “Jump Around,” but the trainer appeared to be done with the morning invocation. He was drinking coffee and looking down at his phone.
“I sat next to him on a ten-hour flight a few years ago, and he was absolutely obnoxious.” I watched as he jumped with an athletic casualness that didn’t actually look uncool. “He had all these ridiculous opinions. I remember specifically that he said girls and guys could never truly be friends.”
“That’s weird,” she said, still watching him.
“Right?” He was casually jumping, but I sensed that he was fully aware we were staring at him. I said, “It doesn’t matter. He’s a total smart-ass who has hated me since I refused to let him cut in the boarding line. Let’s—”
“Glasses?” He looked directly at us—at me—and yelled from across the Jump-O-Sphere, “I thought that was you.”
Nooooooooooo.
My heart started racing and I wanted to disappear.
He scrambled off the Jumpoline, crossed the crater canyon, and bounced toward us. I managed to mumble something polite like, “Yes, um, it’s me. How are you?”
“Fine.” He did a little chin nod, his eyes on mine as if trying to see my thoughts. “You?”
I nodded and wondered if that smell—something clean and masculine—was coming from him. “Fine.”
Could this be any more awkward?
“I’m going to test out Universal Bounce.” Nekesa pointed to the purple section, the adult trampolines with a big bounce-up bar in the center. “I’ll be right back.”
And she just turned and bounced in the other direction, giving me absolutely no chance to stop her. I clenched my jaw and steeled myself for the impending barrage of the guy’s inflammatory rhetoric. I attempted diversion by starting with, “So you’re working here too, huh?”
His eyebrows scrunched together, like he was disappointed in me for stating the obvious, as he said, “Yep.”
Now he gave me a one-word answer? I would’ve killed for that on the flight from Alaska. I tried again as I realized I had no idea what his name was. “I’m Bailey, by the way.”
Can that be right? It seemed beyond strange that we hadn’t exchanged names before, but I couldn’t come up with a single, solitary guess of what his was. “Mr. Nothing” just fit him, but maybe that’s because it’s how I’d always referred to him.
Well, in my head. I’d never actually referred to him out loud at all.
“Charlie.”
Charlie.
Somehow it suited him.
I tried again for small talk because I just couldn’t handle the awkwardness. “So how’s the girlfriend? Are you still with prom girl?”
I saw his Adam’s apple bob around a big swallow, and his gaze shifted just past my shoulder, like something behind us was in need of his eyes. For a second I thought he wasn’t going to respond, but then he said, “No, we broke up.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” I slowed my bounce and looked at his face, and for some reason it mattered that the sadness was still there. I could feel the ache in his eyes; his melancholy was familiar, a friend we had in common. “I am really, really sorry, Charlie.”
His eyes came back to me as he shrugged and slowed as well. “What’re you gonna do, right? It had to end sometime. What about you? Are you still with Mr. Skintight Shirt?”
I pictured Zack’s hand on Kelsie’s lower back as she ordered coffee that morning, and my stomach got tight. I still couldn’t believe he shared grins and the sound of milk steaming with her now. I was fine with him moving on, but why did our moments have to move with him? I sighed before sliding into a Who cares grin and saying, “Nope—we broke up too.”
“Must be something going around, huh?” he said, and I could tell by the rigid set of his jaw that he was over this mindless small talk that pressed on his wound.
“I guess,” I murmured, unsure of what else to say.
“You two aren’t jumping!” The DJ sounded like he was eating the microphone as he called out Charlie and me.
I rolled my eyes and Charlie kind of smirked, but we both started jumping again. He put his hands into the pockets of his flight suit and said, “And the parents? How’s the divorce thing going on your end?”
“My mother is seeing someone now, so that’s fun,” I said, unsure why I was actually answering his question. He was obnoxious Mr. Nothing, a stranger I didn’t know or particularly care for, yet I kept going. “And my dad seems to be losing his verve for buying expensive plane tickets, so God only knows when I’m going to visit him again.”