My Best Friend’s Brother

I think I will miss Seattle, and I have gotten used to staying here and feel much more at home than I do in New York, but this is all going to be good, and the timing is right.

My cell phone vibrates. A message from Adan. I even hoped it was from someone else, but I just read it:

Adan: Almost back in New York?

Adan: Pick up some girls there, on my behalf.

Adan: By the way, leave some girls there ready for me when I visit you.

Adan: Success to you, man!

I end up laughing.

Adan is one of the best friends I met in Seattle, and he will be missed. I answer:

Me: Thanks, man.

I put on my headphones and wait for my late sister. The music is not that loud because even with my eyes closed, I can hear the tapping on the door glass. I open my eyes to find my sister looking like she didn’t make me wait for almost half an hour. But it’s not her who looks at me, and it’s Molly.

I swear I didn’t expect that.

… Molly…

I say goodbye to Amanda and check the time on my phone’s clock, and it’s still 4:40. I hope he hasn’t gone to the airport yet.

Maybe there will be time to talk, and everything will be fine, at least we won’t be feeling this way, because he didn’t seem so happy when I saw him earlier today, and that’s exactly how I feel too.

As soon as I arrive at our building, I go straight to the elevator, I don’t even go home to see if Chantal has come, and I go straight to Julie’s. I take a deep breath, and I turn my bike around. I turn my head and go straight to Julie’s house.

I take a deep breath, turn the knob, and unlock the door. Julie doesn’t get it into her head that she might get mugged for it one day. I close the door behind me, finding no one either in the living room or the kitchen, and there is a silence here that I’m even afraid to think what I’m thinking, that he’s gone.

But if I’m not mistaken, Julie said she was going to drive him to the airport, so why would she leave the door open? I ran up the stairs calling her name and saw her come out of her room with a phone in her hand, she smiles surprised by my presence and said:

” I was just about to call you.”

I ask:

”Why? What happened?”

She gives me that little smile she always gives when she needs to ask me something. I am already waiting and say:

”What is it this time?”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

Her eyes light up when she asks:

”Can you drive Chris to the airport for me?”

My heart even speeds up now because I’m sure he hasn’t left yet. I try to cover it up and ask:

”He hasn’t gone yet?”

She says:

”No, he’s waiting for me downstairs and probably pretty pissed at me by now. ”

I question:

”Okay, but why don’t you go yourself?”

My subconscious says to me: Shut up, Molly! It is your opportunity!

But since I already asked, then I expect an answer. Julie says:

”Brennan ate a bad snack yesterday and is not doing well. I have to go over and give him a boost.”

I say:

”All right, I’ll go.”

Julie hugs me and tells me to come down soon, or Chris will come after her. I leave her house and walk towards the elevator, and my heart is beating fast. I don’t know if he will like this, to see me and know that I will be the one to take him. It even seems like a deja vu that is a little strange; on the contrary, I laugh at it. But this is my last chance, and I have to find a way not to stop myself and say everything I want.

I get to the parking lot of the building, and I see Julie’s car parked next to mine. I follow it there. Chris is in the driver’s seat with his headphones on and his eyes closed. I take the opportunity to look at him for a moment. I want to record every second close to him before he drives away from me.

I tap on the glass. Surprised, he opens his eyes and looks at me, and I don’t blame him. He lowers the glass, and I say:

”Julie had a little setback and asked me to drive you. Is that okay?”

He shakes his head affirmatively, and I ask again:

”Is it okay if I drive or do you want to do that?”

He just looks at me and says:

”No, you can do it, it’s fine with me. ”

I think he also can’t believe that we are doing this again, the same route, the same way, and with a very similar degree of friendship that we had when we met that morning. But now he is not drunk, I know him much better and I still think he is as beautiful or even more beautiful than I did the first time I saw him.

Another thing that is very different from our first tritrip is the silence here inside this car. Where are all the words that I promised myself I would say? It’s hard to talk when he doesn’t even look at me and just seems to be concentrating on the road ahead, even though I’m the one who should be doing it because I’m driving. If I knew he would be so concerned about our route, I would have let him drive it himself. His silence irritates me and I take a deep breath, try to calm myself and ask:

”Are you late?”