“—and you’ve never made her a meal; don’t you think that’s a little weird?”
“No.” He picks up the pace, like he’s trying to out-climb the accusation. Is it weird? “We’ve been seeing each other for six weeks.”
“Does six weeks of dating mean a relationship? I hooked up with this guy, Nico, for three semesters and he was not my boyfriend. His name is still in my phone with three eggplant emojis, though.”
Josh doesn’t reply. She seems to be feeding off his answers, so it’s best to cut off her supply. He’s also feeling slightly winded.
“How is she labeled in your contacts?” she continues. “As ‘girlfriend’？ Is there a heart emoji next to her name?”
“No.” Good fucking grief, this woman probably makes conversation with cab drivers and cashiers. “I don’t need cartoon symbols to jog my memory about our relationship.”
Why is it nearly impossible to meet interesting single women but so easy to attract people who have the uncanny ability to point out the small details that he’s been consciously burying in his own mind?
When they reach the third floor, Josh turns to face her.
“Natalie never mentioned me?” he asks. It slips out, needy. Embarrassing.
“Let me think.” Ari fumbles with her keys. “Are you the guy with the really nice bathroom with the dual shower heads?”
“No?” What guy with the—
“Oh! Were you Mr. September in last year’s Babes of Bushwick calendar?” She looks him up and down.
“I don’t know what—”
Ari forces the apartment door open with her hip.
Josh shakes off her disorienting questions; she’s clearly just trying to fuck with him. He takes a cautious step into the living room, avoiding a pile of shoes by the door. He’s always hosted Natalie at his apartment, where he doesn’t have to account for unknown variables: surfaces that haven’t been properly wiped or hostile-yet-chatty roommates.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a scrap of lacy trim peeking out from under the couch.
Ari seems to follow his gaze. “There they are.”
Before she can retrieve them, an interior door swings open. A shirtless man bursts out, surrounded by a cloud of steam, belting a show tune. “Bring him hooooome! Briiing him home!” He pauses his overwrought serenade and nods at Josh, friendly and completely unbothered by his presence. “Hey, man.”
Ari makes no attempt to introduce them.
“Do I get my boxers back?” the guy asks her. “Actually, never mind, I gotta run.” Humming the tune with heavy vibrato, he pulls a T-shirt over his head. “Call me in an hour in case I need a rescue?”
“？’Kay,” she responds, barely looking up. She’s riffling through her Nature Conservancy binder. “Enjoy.”
Josh watches him leave without kissing Ari goodbye.
As soon as the door slams shut, Ari appears at Josh’s left side, holding out her donation binder and a ballpoint pen.
After he sets down his bags and prints his credit card number in neat block letters, Ari gestures grandly and announces, “This is the kitchen. Don’t burn the apartment down.”
Josh tilts his head, looking past her. “A fucking electric stove?”
Ari glances at the aging unit that doesn’t even have a vent hood. “What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s no heat control, no subtlety, no flame. It’s either scalding or lukewarm.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She shrugs. “Pretend you’re on one of those cooking competition shows where you have to start your own fire.”
He narrows his eyes at her and begins digging in his backpack, removing his supplies. There’s barely enough room on the granite-patterned vinyl counter to organize the ingredients and the equipment he’s brought. When he looks up, he’s surprised to see Natalie’s roommate opening the magnet-covered refrigerator door. He’d assumed she would make herself scarce.
“I’m also making dinner,” Ari explains, bending at the waist to grab a box of MorningStar Farms veggie corn dogs out of the freezer drawer below.
“You have a little bit of an accent when you’re ranting about appliances,” she says, setting two corn dogs on a plate. “Did you grow up here?”
“Upper West Side.”
She looks thoughtful as she shuts the microwave door. “Maybe it’s the transplant in me, but I’ve always been jealous of the weird accent. I like it.”