Crush
Prompt/Title: Crush
Author: miss_slipslop
Link to Table: http://community.livejournal.com/babysitters100/11603.html#cut
Characters/Pairings: Claire Pike, Byron Pike/Jeff Schafer.
Rating: PG
Summary: Unattainable crushes are annoying to begin with. They're worse when you've got one on your brother's boyfriend.
Notes: Claire is 16 in this story. Very slight slash and boys kissing, so if that's not your thing/it weirds you out, don't read this.
Also, I love the show Glee (love to hate it sometimes, actually), hence the references :D
There are some things in life, which are naturally off limits.
Like the television when Margo’s watching Gossip Girl.
Like trying to invade my brothers’ “triplet bonding times.”
Like interrupting Mallory when she’s working on a new story.
And most importantly, like my brother’s boyfriend. Don’t even think about it Claire, not even for a second. Don’t think about that smile, what a great dancer he is, how he always laughs at your jokes. You’re Byron’s kid sister, and nothing more. For God’s sakes, he’s five years older than you.
I let out a deep breath that can probably be heard across continents, and look down at the journal entry I’ve just written. This is definitely one I’ll be hiding under the mattress.
I suppose I should backtrack a little. It’s not that complicated. People get unattainable crushes all the time, especially at sixteen.
This crush however, isn’t the captain of the football team, or some square jawed, doe-eyed celebrity. I suppose infatuations with a certain blonde haired, California boy with a killer smile run in the family. Oh, Jeff Schafer. Why do the good one have to be gay, or taken, or in this case, both?
Taken by my brother Byron, actually, who adores him. Seriously, they’re that couple. They’ve been dating since their sophomore year of high school, and they’re seniors in college now. Jeff gave up going to college in his beloved California to attend Wesleyan with my brother. Sure, they have their spats, but most of the time, they hold hands and giggle, and make out on the sofa when they think no one’s looking, but in our house, someone always is. The thing is, they manage to make it look adorable, instead of nauseating, unlike some of those couples, who spend hours eating each others faces, and you just want to hit over the head with an unabridged dictionary.
I love Byron too. He’s easily my favorite sibling, mainly because his calm nature balances out my hyperactivity and impulsiveness. Back when he was in high school, he always managed to make time for his stupid little sister, helping me with my homework, letting me bake cupcakes with him, even tag along to movies. Sometimes, we’d stay up until one in the morning, after marathoning Dr. Who episodes, just talking about life.
Even when Jeff came into the picture, they accepted me being around. Jeff taught me how to do jack-knife dives one summer at the pool, and when Byron rolled his eyes at me talking in outrageous accents or singing obnoxiously to the radio, Jeff would join in. It was kind of cute actually, like we were in our own whacky sitcom.
I loved hanging out with the two of them, had even visited them at college a couple times this past year.
Actually, that’s when the whole annoying crush thing started, with a visit.
I think back to October, and swing dancing.
--
I’m elated that mom and dad let me come to Wesleyan for Halloween weekend. It took a ton of fast-talking, on mine and Byron’s parts, but somehow, they agreed that sixteen was a reasonable enough age to take the train to Middletown (provided I did my homework on the way there). After all, Byron is one of the most responsible people on the planet. I seriously doubted we’d be going to any “ragers” or frat parties. More like baking cookies and watching Netflix on demand.
I do feel excessively grown-up though, strolling around the campus, amid college students. It’s a beautiful, crisp autumn day, not a cloud in the sky, and the sun is illuminating the orange and red leaves which cover the ground.
Jeff kicks at the leaves now, throws a handful at Byron. I laugh, and follow his lead.
“Hey!”
“The look suits you.” Jeff laughs, as my brother tries to pick them off. “Here, you’ve still got some in your hair. Let me get them.”
He reaches for the last bit of leaves, and at the last moment, pulls him into a kiss.
How do they manage to make every interaction look like a scene from a Hollywood movie?
I laugh though, as a passing girl stares at them in horror. Jeff is amused too.
“Oh, that never gets old.” He cackles.
Byron slips a hand into his, and they smile adoringly at each other.
“So!” Jeff turns to me. “I hope we haven’t made you completely nauseated yet, Claire.”
“No! I’m having a great time.”
“Good. What should we do this evening?”
“Want to watch a movie?” Byron asks this.
“We do that all the time! I know!” Jeff’s eyes start sparkling particularly brightly, and for the first time, I notice just how pretty they are, framed by ridiculously long lashes. “Let’s get Claire drunk.”
“Jeff!” Byron looks horrified. “I told mom and dad that we would be on our best behavior. That doesn’t involve drinking.”
“Oh come on! We’re both twenty-one! Claire, have you ever drank before?”
“A few glasses of wine, but not much else.” I shrug. “Sorry. I’m boring, I guess.”
“I bet you would be an adorable and fun drunk. Your brother here, gets particularly giggly--”
“Oh my God, Jeff. We’re done.”
“I think that means, let’s go to the liquor store. By, we’re going to be drinking in our apartment, which is the safest place ever. You can make us dinner too, for that whole liquor absorbing shit, and we’ll just call it pleasantly tipsy.” He turns imploring, adorable eyes on my brother. “Please? We have to show Claire at least a little bit of college life.”
I know Byron’s going to cave. I’m actually a bit excited. This feels daring, in a way.
“Why do I put up with you?” My brother rolls his eyes. “Fine. But Claire’s not coming into the liquor store with us. I’m not getting busted. That would be an awkward conversation with mom and dad.”
“Not to worry. Claire can amuse herself easily enough. Also, you put up with me because you love me and I add variety to your routine-oriented life.”
“Oh right,” he grumbles. “That bit.”
Then, they kiss again.
Like I said, they still manage to be cute.
--
A few hours later, I’m unbelievably content.
I’m stretched out on the sofa, eating homemade pasta. Music plays in the background, and I’ve decided I love white wine. I take another sip, and sigh.
“I see you’ve found your poison of choice.” Jeff smirks at me. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a wine girl. I thought for sure you’d go for the gin.”
I make a face. “Too bitter.”
“That’s my drink.” Byron laughs. He’s had a few himself, and is sprawled out on a nearby chair.
“And I’m Vodka. What a happy family we are. Do you want another glass, Claire?”
“Sure!”
“Drink it slow.” Byron raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, where’s the fun in that?”
A new song comes on the speakers, and I let out a squeal.
“Ooh, you guys got the music for the Glee Rocky Horror episode?”
“Byron did.” Jeff says. “He was a fan of that episode.” He smirks.
“I’m a fan of this song.” I move to turn it up, and then, maybe it’s the wine, but I start to dance.
“Whatever Happened to Saturday Night?” Jeff laughs. “Not a bad cover. Byron, you should dance with me.”
“No.” He laughs. “Too. Comfortable.”
“Fine, sit in your gin-induced stupor. Claire?”
Then, he takes my hand, and dips me downward, like something out of Funny Face.
I had no idea Jeff could dance, but it all made sense. He oozed charm anyways, so of course he was a fabulous dancer. It’s a swing song, so he’s pulling me close. Byron’s laughing at us both, because of course, it means nothing to them. Jeff’s just being his cute self, and indulging me.
It means everything to me though.
The blue of his eyes, the freckles which dot his face, those dimples, the muscles in his arms, and oh shit, he’s putting his hands on my waist, and he doesn’t think anything of it, but I certainly do.
I’ve only had one boyfriend, but he never danced with me. He was too busy being a general douchebag for that. We barely even kissed.
Oh shit, now I’m imagining kissing Jeff, on those pouty lips, and wondering what his mouth might taste like, wondering what we could do next--
This needs to stop. Now.
Thankfully, the song ends at the moment I jerk away.
“I need to lie down for a minute.” I say.
“Are you okay?” Jeff is looking at me, worried.
“Claire, you look flushed.” Byron is getting to his feet, ever the protective older brother. “You need some water.”
So, I let my brother believe it’s the wine that’s making me feel bad, not because I just envisioned a steamy makeout session with the boy he adores. We spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch, watching Pretty in Pink. Byron and Jeff play footsie throughout, and then start kissing when Andie and Blaine do.
It’s torture.
--
It gets worse. Thankfully, they don’t catch on. Byron does ask me if I seem okay when he drops me off at the train station, said I seemed “subdued,” but I used the excuse of a headache.
When I get home though, I start having dreams about Jeff, about us, on a beach in California.
It’s hard, because Byron and I stay in touch regularly too, and Jeff always adds little bits onto emails, or stalks our Facebook posts. Every time I get notification saying “Jeff Schafer commented on your status,” or “Jeff Schafer posted on your wall,” I have a little bit of a heart attack, and then have to turn off my computer for awhile.
Eventually, I decide not to respond. That’s easier. I can’t risk having Byron even suspect anything. If I ever hurt my brother, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
--
It’s a few days after the infamous journal entry, and the start of Thanksgiving break. I’m counting down the minutes until my siblings get here, and our house is alive again. Having them all be in college is harder than I thought. I never thought I would miss burping contests, or fights over the phone so much. When Margo left this year, I slept on the couch for a week, I was so depressed at the thought of having my own room.
Suddenly, I hear the crunch of tires on our drive. Rushing to the window, I see Byron’s beat-up old Honda outside.
I don’t even think. I’m sprinting to the door, barefoot and all.
“Byron!” I screech. This is my customary greeting, and it never gets old, as I rush across the lawn, and tackle-hug him.
“Ahh, my lungs!” He laughs though. “Now, put on shoes before you get pneumonia.”
“She’s tough.” Another voice sounds. “Hey Claire.”
Ah, of course. Jeff would have driven back with him, and he’s never wild to go back to his house. He’ll definitely be having dinner with us tonight.
“Jeff!” I blush like a lunatic. Smooth. “You’re here.”
“Well, duh. Where do you think I’d be? You’re silly,.”
All I can do, is blush, and mumble something inane.
Oh great.
--
It’s a few hours later, and all my siblings are back, and our house has been restored to its rightful state as a madhouse.
Byron and I are curled up on the sofa together, indulging in one of our favorite pastimes. Food Network watching, and Rachael Ray hating. Jeff went home a few minutes ago, so I can finally stop worrying, and have my brother all to myself.
“Claire? Are you okay?”
Byron’s voice pulls me back to reality.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve hardly yelled anything at the screen. You didn’t even cringe when Rachael said ‘Yummers,’ and because of that, I know something’s wrong.”
I sigh. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” “Want to talk about it?”
I laugh, bitterly. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He mutes the television. “You know, Jeff thinks you’re mad at him. You won’t reply to his emails, and you barely said twenty words to him at dinner. Is everything alright?”
“Oh God. He thinks I’m mad at him?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I’m not! I just--”
“I know,” he says, softly. “Look Claire, Jeff Schafer has incredible charm. It’s sort of impossible not to fall in love with him. Half the girls at Wesleyan take one look at him, and start drooling. He’s sweet, and funny, and makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room, even when there’s fifty people there.”
“I--I--I’m so sorry.” I choke out. “I love you, and I know he’s your boyfriend. You guys are perfect--”
“I’m not mad! I’m saying I understand! He has this spell, and it’s captivating, and he was dancing with you, and when Jeff dances with you, it’s damn near impossible not to tackle him right there.”
I smile slightly. “I think I’ll disregard that image.”
“Sorry.”
“Does Jeff know?”
“God no. He’s oblivious. He always talks about how he doesn’t understand why all the girls flirt with him. I’m just perceptive, and I like to think I know my baby sister very well.” He smiles at me, tweaks my nose.
Suddenly, I feel about eighty thousand times better. Byron doesn’t hate me. This crush is still absurd, but I don’t have to hide it anymore. Eventually, I also know that it will fade. Maybe I’ll find a boy who knows how to dance, who can sweep me off my feet.
I turn to my brother. “I can only hope that when I get a boyfriend, he makes me feel what you do with Jeff. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
“I know. I hear that a lot. We’ve been dating for six years. Longer than most Hollywood marriages.”
“And you fit, perfectly. So, you have my complete assurance this stupid little crush won’t go anywhere.”
“I know. Now, give me your assurance that you won’t act like a complete idiot next time he comes over.”
I smile. “I promise. I’ll email him now, even.”
“First, we make fun of Rachael Ray.”
So, we proceed to mock her shrimp covered in hardboiled eggs, until tears of laughter stream down our faces.
--
The next day, Jeff comes over, and while my chest still flutters at times, it’s normal. I think he’s just relieved I’m joking around again.
I’ll never dance with him again though, I think. Way too risky.
I have to focus on finding a boy my own age, and more than anything, look for my own brand of romance. Something that doesn’t cross with my brother’s world.
And if that doesn’t work out, I’ll just look at endless pictures of Chord Overstreet, who plays Sam on the show Glee.
He is after all, sort of Jeff’s doppleganger.
It’s a fair enough substitute, for now.
Author: miss_slipslop
Link to Table: http://community.livejournal.com/babysitters100/11603.html#cut
Characters/Pairings: Claire Pike, Byron Pike/Jeff Schafer.
Rating: PG
Summary: Unattainable crushes are annoying to begin with. They're worse when you've got one on your brother's boyfriend.
Notes: Claire is 16 in this story. Very slight slash and boys kissing, so if that's not your thing/it weirds you out, don't read this.
Also, I love the show Glee (love to hate it sometimes, actually), hence the references :D
There are some things in life, which are naturally off limits.
Like the television when Margo’s watching Gossip Girl.
Like trying to invade my brothers’ “triplet bonding times.”
Like interrupting Mallory when she’s working on a new story.
And most importantly, like my brother’s boyfriend. Don’t even think about it Claire, not even for a second. Don’t think about that smile, what a great dancer he is, how he always laughs at your jokes. You’re Byron’s kid sister, and nothing more. For God’s sakes, he’s five years older than you.
I let out a deep breath that can probably be heard across continents, and look down at the journal entry I’ve just written. This is definitely one I’ll be hiding under the mattress.
I suppose I should backtrack a little. It’s not that complicated. People get unattainable crushes all the time, especially at sixteen.
This crush however, isn’t the captain of the football team, or some square jawed, doe-eyed celebrity. I suppose infatuations with a certain blonde haired, California boy with a killer smile run in the family. Oh, Jeff Schafer. Why do the good one have to be gay, or taken, or in this case, both?
Taken by my brother Byron, actually, who adores him. Seriously, they’re that couple. They’ve been dating since their sophomore year of high school, and they’re seniors in college now. Jeff gave up going to college in his beloved California to attend Wesleyan with my brother. Sure, they have their spats, but most of the time, they hold hands and giggle, and make out on the sofa when they think no one’s looking, but in our house, someone always is. The thing is, they manage to make it look adorable, instead of nauseating, unlike some of those couples, who spend hours eating each others faces, and you just want to hit over the head with an unabridged dictionary.
I love Byron too. He’s easily my favorite sibling, mainly because his calm nature balances out my hyperactivity and impulsiveness. Back when he was in high school, he always managed to make time for his stupid little sister, helping me with my homework, letting me bake cupcakes with him, even tag along to movies. Sometimes, we’d stay up until one in the morning, after marathoning Dr. Who episodes, just talking about life.
Even when Jeff came into the picture, they accepted me being around. Jeff taught me how to do jack-knife dives one summer at the pool, and when Byron rolled his eyes at me talking in outrageous accents or singing obnoxiously to the radio, Jeff would join in. It was kind of cute actually, like we were in our own whacky sitcom.
I loved hanging out with the two of them, had even visited them at college a couple times this past year.
Actually, that’s when the whole annoying crush thing started, with a visit.
I think back to October, and swing dancing.
--
I’m elated that mom and dad let me come to Wesleyan for Halloween weekend. It took a ton of fast-talking, on mine and Byron’s parts, but somehow, they agreed that sixteen was a reasonable enough age to take the train to Middletown (provided I did my homework on the way there). After all, Byron is one of the most responsible people on the planet. I seriously doubted we’d be going to any “ragers” or frat parties. More like baking cookies and watching Netflix on demand.
I do feel excessively grown-up though, strolling around the campus, amid college students. It’s a beautiful, crisp autumn day, not a cloud in the sky, and the sun is illuminating the orange and red leaves which cover the ground.
Jeff kicks at the leaves now, throws a handful at Byron. I laugh, and follow his lead.
“Hey!”
“The look suits you.” Jeff laughs, as my brother tries to pick them off. “Here, you’ve still got some in your hair. Let me get them.”
He reaches for the last bit of leaves, and at the last moment, pulls him into a kiss.
How do they manage to make every interaction look like a scene from a Hollywood movie?
I laugh though, as a passing girl stares at them in horror. Jeff is amused too.
“Oh, that never gets old.” He cackles.
Byron slips a hand into his, and they smile adoringly at each other.
“So!” Jeff turns to me. “I hope we haven’t made you completely nauseated yet, Claire.”
“No! I’m having a great time.”
“Good. What should we do this evening?”
“Want to watch a movie?” Byron asks this.
“We do that all the time! I know!” Jeff’s eyes start sparkling particularly brightly, and for the first time, I notice just how pretty they are, framed by ridiculously long lashes. “Let’s get Claire drunk.”
“Jeff!” Byron looks horrified. “I told mom and dad that we would be on our best behavior. That doesn’t involve drinking.”
“Oh come on! We’re both twenty-one! Claire, have you ever drank before?”
“A few glasses of wine, but not much else.” I shrug. “Sorry. I’m boring, I guess.”
“I bet you would be an adorable and fun drunk. Your brother here, gets particularly giggly--”
“Oh my God, Jeff. We’re done.”
“I think that means, let’s go to the liquor store. By, we’re going to be drinking in our apartment, which is the safest place ever. You can make us dinner too, for that whole liquor absorbing shit, and we’ll just call it pleasantly tipsy.” He turns imploring, adorable eyes on my brother. “Please? We have to show Claire at least a little bit of college life.”
I know Byron’s going to cave. I’m actually a bit excited. This feels daring, in a way.
“Why do I put up with you?” My brother rolls his eyes. “Fine. But Claire’s not coming into the liquor store with us. I’m not getting busted. That would be an awkward conversation with mom and dad.”
“Not to worry. Claire can amuse herself easily enough. Also, you put up with me because you love me and I add variety to your routine-oriented life.”
“Oh right,” he grumbles. “That bit.”
Then, they kiss again.
Like I said, they still manage to be cute.
--
A few hours later, I’m unbelievably content.
I’m stretched out on the sofa, eating homemade pasta. Music plays in the background, and I’ve decided I love white wine. I take another sip, and sigh.
“I see you’ve found your poison of choice.” Jeff smirks at me. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a wine girl. I thought for sure you’d go for the gin.”
I make a face. “Too bitter.”
“That’s my drink.” Byron laughs. He’s had a few himself, and is sprawled out on a nearby chair.
“And I’m Vodka. What a happy family we are. Do you want another glass, Claire?”
“Sure!”
“Drink it slow.” Byron raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, where’s the fun in that?”
A new song comes on the speakers, and I let out a squeal.
“Ooh, you guys got the music for the Glee Rocky Horror episode?”
“Byron did.” Jeff says. “He was a fan of that episode.” He smirks.
“I’m a fan of this song.” I move to turn it up, and then, maybe it’s the wine, but I start to dance.
“Whatever Happened to Saturday Night?” Jeff laughs. “Not a bad cover. Byron, you should dance with me.”
“No.” He laughs. “Too. Comfortable.”
“Fine, sit in your gin-induced stupor. Claire?”
Then, he takes my hand, and dips me downward, like something out of Funny Face.
I had no idea Jeff could dance, but it all made sense. He oozed charm anyways, so of course he was a fabulous dancer. It’s a swing song, so he’s pulling me close. Byron’s laughing at us both, because of course, it means nothing to them. Jeff’s just being his cute self, and indulging me.
It means everything to me though.
The blue of his eyes, the freckles which dot his face, those dimples, the muscles in his arms, and oh shit, he’s putting his hands on my waist, and he doesn’t think anything of it, but I certainly do.
I’ve only had one boyfriend, but he never danced with me. He was too busy being a general douchebag for that. We barely even kissed.
Oh shit, now I’m imagining kissing Jeff, on those pouty lips, and wondering what his mouth might taste like, wondering what we could do next--
This needs to stop. Now.
Thankfully, the song ends at the moment I jerk away.
“I need to lie down for a minute.” I say.
“Are you okay?” Jeff is looking at me, worried.
“Claire, you look flushed.” Byron is getting to his feet, ever the protective older brother. “You need some water.”
So, I let my brother believe it’s the wine that’s making me feel bad, not because I just envisioned a steamy makeout session with the boy he adores. We spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch, watching Pretty in Pink. Byron and Jeff play footsie throughout, and then start kissing when Andie and Blaine do.
It’s torture.
--
It gets worse. Thankfully, they don’t catch on. Byron does ask me if I seem okay when he drops me off at the train station, said I seemed “subdued,” but I used the excuse of a headache.
When I get home though, I start having dreams about Jeff, about us, on a beach in California.
It’s hard, because Byron and I stay in touch regularly too, and Jeff always adds little bits onto emails, or stalks our Facebook posts. Every time I get notification saying “Jeff Schafer commented on your status,” or “Jeff Schafer posted on your wall,” I have a little bit of a heart attack, and then have to turn off my computer for awhile.
Eventually, I decide not to respond. That’s easier. I can’t risk having Byron even suspect anything. If I ever hurt my brother, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
--
It’s a few days after the infamous journal entry, and the start of Thanksgiving break. I’m counting down the minutes until my siblings get here, and our house is alive again. Having them all be in college is harder than I thought. I never thought I would miss burping contests, or fights over the phone so much. When Margo left this year, I slept on the couch for a week, I was so depressed at the thought of having my own room.
Suddenly, I hear the crunch of tires on our drive. Rushing to the window, I see Byron’s beat-up old Honda outside.
I don’t even think. I’m sprinting to the door, barefoot and all.
“Byron!” I screech. This is my customary greeting, and it never gets old, as I rush across the lawn, and tackle-hug him.
“Ahh, my lungs!” He laughs though. “Now, put on shoes before you get pneumonia.”
“She’s tough.” Another voice sounds. “Hey Claire.”
Ah, of course. Jeff would have driven back with him, and he’s never wild to go back to his house. He’ll definitely be having dinner with us tonight.
“Jeff!” I blush like a lunatic. Smooth. “You’re here.”
“Well, duh. Where do you think I’d be? You’re silly,.”
All I can do, is blush, and mumble something inane.
Oh great.
--
It’s a few hours later, and all my siblings are back, and our house has been restored to its rightful state as a madhouse.
Byron and I are curled up on the sofa together, indulging in one of our favorite pastimes. Food Network watching, and Rachael Ray hating. Jeff went home a few minutes ago, so I can finally stop worrying, and have my brother all to myself.
“Claire? Are you okay?”
Byron’s voice pulls me back to reality.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve hardly yelled anything at the screen. You didn’t even cringe when Rachael said ‘Yummers,’ and because of that, I know something’s wrong.”
I sigh. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” “Want to talk about it?”
I laugh, bitterly. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He mutes the television. “You know, Jeff thinks you’re mad at him. You won’t reply to his emails, and you barely said twenty words to him at dinner. Is everything alright?”
“Oh God. He thinks I’m mad at him?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I’m not! I just--”
“I know,” he says, softly. “Look Claire, Jeff Schafer has incredible charm. It’s sort of impossible not to fall in love with him. Half the girls at Wesleyan take one look at him, and start drooling. He’s sweet, and funny, and makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room, even when there’s fifty people there.”
“I--I--I’m so sorry.” I choke out. “I love you, and I know he’s your boyfriend. You guys are perfect--”
“I’m not mad! I’m saying I understand! He has this spell, and it’s captivating, and he was dancing with you, and when Jeff dances with you, it’s damn near impossible not to tackle him right there.”
I smile slightly. “I think I’ll disregard that image.”
“Sorry.”
“Does Jeff know?”
“God no. He’s oblivious. He always talks about how he doesn’t understand why all the girls flirt with him. I’m just perceptive, and I like to think I know my baby sister very well.” He smiles at me, tweaks my nose.
Suddenly, I feel about eighty thousand times better. Byron doesn’t hate me. This crush is still absurd, but I don’t have to hide it anymore. Eventually, I also know that it will fade. Maybe I’ll find a boy who knows how to dance, who can sweep me off my feet.
I turn to my brother. “I can only hope that when I get a boyfriend, he makes me feel what you do with Jeff. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
“I know. I hear that a lot. We’ve been dating for six years. Longer than most Hollywood marriages.”
“And you fit, perfectly. So, you have my complete assurance this stupid little crush won’t go anywhere.”
“I know. Now, give me your assurance that you won’t act like a complete idiot next time he comes over.”
I smile. “I promise. I’ll email him now, even.”
“First, we make fun of Rachael Ray.”
So, we proceed to mock her shrimp covered in hardboiled eggs, until tears of laughter stream down our faces.
--
The next day, Jeff comes over, and while my chest still flutters at times, it’s normal. I think he’s just relieved I’m joking around again.
I’ll never dance with him again though, I think. Way too risky.
I have to focus on finding a boy my own age, and more than anything, look for my own brand of romance. Something that doesn’t cross with my brother’s world.
And if that doesn’t work out, I’ll just look at endless pictures of Chord Overstreet, who plays Sam on the show Glee.
He is after all, sort of Jeff’s doppleganger.
It’s a fair enough substitute, for now.