so I ended up on the balcony again. I told myself I wasn’t going out there to spy, just to enjoy some tea before bed. At some point, while the rest of us were gone, Max must’ve put a chair out there, a wooden Adirondack. It faced sideways and took up most of the space, but it was surprisingly nice. Peaceful.
This time, Ty wasn’t by the fence. Relief shot through me. I didn’t care to interrupt another private moment. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, sitting on my balcony with a mug of Sleepytime tea, but it was a gray area since I could so easily invade his privacy. Tonight he was on the wicker love seat, and the empty spot beside him struck me as oddly poignant. I studied him as I sipped my drink. He had a backlit e-reader out there with him, head bent so the moon gilded lighter streaks in his coppery hair.
“You’re quite a devoted stargazer,” he said without looking up from his book. His voice was soft enough that I barely heard it...but he was speaking to me. Again.
I wondered why that was so thrilling. Calm down, he might be married. Taken. Something. He’s definitely in the market for day care, and—maybe I’m overthinking this.
“I just like it out here,” I answered, just as quietly.
Somehow this felt like a secret between the two of us. His spot and now mine—apparently, he didn’t mind sharing the night with me. I didn’t want to bother Angus or Max with our talk, and I’d rather Lauren didn’t join the convo, either. No need for self-analysis, right?
“The best part about living here.”
“What’re you reading?”
His answer came slow, as if he was a little unsure whether he should encourage me. “Some chapters for class tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’re a student? I thought you must have an office job already.”
“I do.”
“Night school?” I guessed.
“Yeah.”
“What are you studying?” I was conscious this was becoming more of an interrogation, so I resolved not to ask anything else unless he reciprocated. This was weirdly intimate, not being able to see his face, just the softness of our voices in the dark, warm air, perfumed with the flowers he’d planted below.
“Architecture.”
“Sounds interesting,” I said, and only just managed to keep from asking more questions in quick succession. How many years do you have left? What’s your day job? What kind of things do you want to build someday?
Honestly, until Ty, I had never been the irrepressibly nosy type. Something about him just made me want to dig and find out all the secret, hidden things. The impulse was a little alarming. In silence, I sipped my tea, thinking he was done with small talk for the night.
Then he said, “What about you?”
It felt momentous, which was pretty absurd. “I’m in my third year studying special education.” More than he’d asked, as that would give him a ballpark estimate of my age.
If he was interested.
But probably not.
In general, a certain type of guy went for me. They were usually sporty, extra tall, into outdoor activities, searching for a rugged girl to rock climb, go camping and be extreme with. That was definitely not my deal, even though I stood 5’11 in flats, and I put on muscle pretty easily. I worked out three times a week for my health, not because I was an athlete.
“That explains the day-care center,” he said as he stood. “I’m going in now. Good night, Nadia.”
A little shiver went through me, so stupid, because he remembered my name. My toes curled as he said it, and I hated that I was slightly breathless when I whispered, “’Night, Ty.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice piped up, He has a kid. This is crazy. But the logical reminder didn’t dispel his pull.
The next day, I found all my classes without problems, listened to first-class type of instructions and picked up course materials, and then I raced to work. It was a blur, and I didn’t get out until nearly seven. The delinquent father showed up muttering about a traffic jam, but this was a town, not a city. Since his kid had been crying for an hour, afraid she’d been forgotten, again, I wasn’t in the best mood when I left. Singing too loud to the radio burned off most of my annoyance, and I was okay by the time I got back to the apartment. But I sighed as I went up; our music was cranked enough that I could hear every note. I braced for another complaint, but it was hard to stay mad when I opened the door to find Max pretending to be a DJ while Angus and Lauren danced their asses off.
I smirked. “This is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Max responded with his signature grin. “Come on, use your imagination. Think how great it’ll be this weekend.”
“I’m not ready for that jelly.”
“Nobody is.” Lauren drew me into the impromptu dance party, and I had never been able to resist her when she was in a good mood.
“Did something awesome happen?” I asked while shimmying.
Angus, it should be said, was the best bad dancer ever. Every dated move, he knew it—from lawnmower, running man, sprinkler to electric slide. I had a hard time watching him without laughing, but that was kind of the point. He was never happier than when he made his friends bust a gut.
“Yes.” Lauren threw her arms in the air and twirled.
Angus kept dancing.
“No. Not the robot. I can’t take it. I’m tired and hungry. Just tell me your news, LB.” Her last name was Barrett.
“Okay, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Angus started singing “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” while dancing in circles around us. That made Max laugh so hard he fell off the stool he’d set up, and he dropped the plates he was using as mock turntables. I could only imagine how noisy this was downstairs, but I hated to mention that while Lauren was so jacked up with excitement.
“Spill it already,” I demanded, flopping onto the couch.
“I just worked my last shift at Teriyaki King. The career center finally came through and got me a decent campus job. I’ll be working as an assistant in the fine arts building.”
“Doing what?” Anything would likely be better than the food court, though.
“Answering phones, sending emails, filing, running errands. But only daytime hours, weekends off.”
Max finally got off the floor. “See? That demands a party, a real one. I’ll see what I can put together this weekend.”
“Congrats, dude. Let me wash the kid goo off and then we’ll figure out dinner.”
“I brought home chicken,” Lauren informed me. “Not from TK.”
Blowing her a kiss over my shoulder, I said, “I knew there was a reason I love you better than all other Laurens.”
“Just the Laurens?” she yelled after me. “I need to try harder.”
During dinner, Angus turned off the music so we could actually hear each other talk. At least that was what he claimed, but I shot him a look that said you’re not fooling me; you’re being superconsiderate right now. He only smiled, even when Max gave him metric tons of shit about turning into an old man before his time.
So due to Angus, we didn’t get an angry visit from our neighbor, and when I went out to the balcony with my tea, feeling like this could become a ritual, the patio below was empty. Disappointment swept over me in an embarrassing rush, and I was glad I hadn’t said anything to Lauren about Ty. Nothing’s going on. You’re so weird. To prove it didn’t bother me, I drank all my tea before heading inside. But long after I snuggled in, listening to Lauren wheeznore, which she claimed not to do, I rubbed my chest against an ache that