Bliss

twenty three

In planning my trip to return Isaac's t-shirt, I forgot one crucial detail.

Spencer.

Well, Spencer, and Jess, and Matthew, and I suppose me.

What I mean is I forgot our double date. An impromptu, but not wholly unexpected, brunch situation I wish I could avoid. Except I can't, leaving me in a much too frilly white dress with the t-shirt stuffed at the bottom of my favourite canvas bag.

Spencer and Matthew are up ahead, laughing loudly. From the back, they look like brothers. They're both too tall, with too many limbs. Both have thick, wavy brown hair, although Spencer's is a little darker. They both like black jeans, even in the summer months when black is synonymous with sweat, and faded t-shirts. This, compounded with the fact that best friends often merge, has me wondering if Jess and I are total weirdos for liking them. In many ways, it's like liking the same guy, except Matthew would never cheat. He's much too in love with Jess. Not that I blame him, she's an angel.

"Everything alright, Lizzie-bear?" Jess asks.

I take it back. She's a she-devil.

I shove her, causing her teasing laughter to grow, and shake my head. "Don't call me that."

"It's too good not to."

"Oh yeah, Jessica Rabbit?"

"No," she groans, shoving me. "That's just gross."

"Like Lizzie-bear is any better?"

"Fine, they're both shit at nicknames."

"So shit."

We laugh, our arms wrapping around one another, and my head falls onto her shoulder as we slow to a lingering crawl. "If I tell you something," I whisper, my eyes fixed on the back of Spencer's head, "do you promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Of course. Who else would I tell but you?"

"I mean it, Jess."

"I won't tell Matthew if that's what you're worried about," she says, brushing away the curled whisps of hair that fly into my line of sight. "So tell me."

I stare at her, really stare, taking in her unassuming smile and kind eyes, the deep dimples beside her mouth and the light dusting of freckles she's hidden under a thin layer of foundation. I watch as those eyes falter, her long, curled lashes fluttering. As her brown eyes, much lighter than my own, darken slightly. I watch her smile fall, feel her hand tighten, and then sigh.

"It's nothing serious," I say, returning my gaze to Spencer.

"You could've fooled me."

"It's just that I have to go to Isaac's."

"Why?"

"Because." My voice trails off, and I screw my eyes shut for a second. "Because," I say, the darkness making me brave. "Because I have his t-shirt."

"You have his t-shirt?"

I nod.

"You have his t-shirt!" Her voice bounces up the pavement, catching Matthew and, in turn, Spencer's attention.

"Jess," I hiss.

"You alright?" Matthew asks.

"Of course," she says, her smile tight. "Lizzie found this t-shirt I really wanted."

"Yeah, we thought it was sold out, but I guess we were looking in the wrong places."

Matthew rolls his eyes and pushes on, his and Spencer's conversation picking up right where they left it, allowing me to elbow Jess. She lets out a strangled sound that's a cross between a squeal and a groan, then pinches me.