Uncle Don nods. “I came up to ask Drew if he could help me put a leaf in the dining-room table. The guys are about to come over, and Dungeon Master Rick always complains that the table’s not big enough.”
Drew shoots me that look again, reminding me that I never explained the whole D&D thing to him; he probably thinks he’s helping Uncle Don set up for some weird sex party. I just shake my head and give him a look that I hope communicates I’ll explain later.
“Sure,” Drew says. “I couldn’t live with myself if Dungeon Master Rick was disappointed.”
“He’s a difficult man to please,” Uncle Don says with a sigh, which really doesn’t help the whole “this looks like a sex party” situation.
I listen as Don and Drew walk downstairs, and as soon as I’m in the clear I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Chloe.
“What’s wrong?” she answers.
“Nothing!” I say. “I mean, I’m a little injured, but that’s not the issue. I think . . .”
I trail off, unable to even put what just happened into words.
“What??” Chloe practically shouts.
I look at my photo of Nora and gulp. “I think Drew and I almost kissed.”
Chloe screams for a full ten seconds, which doesn’t sound like that long but is actually a very long time to scream.
“Are you done?” I ask.
“Yeah. Wait . . . no, yeah, I’m done. What the hell, Annie? How did this happen? How did things go from you being all, ‘Nooooo, Roman Holiday is a bummer’ to ‘Sure, let’s bone a movie star’?”
“We haven’t boned, Chloe. We didn’t even kiss. Uncle Don walked in and I fell over and now they’re downstairs getting ready for D&D.”
“Back up. Why is he at your house? What’s going on?”
I tell Chloe the whole story, and she’s silent for so long that I start to think the call dropped. But then she says, “So how many times, total, have you fallen over today?”
“Twice.”
“Okay. And you’ve also run into Drew and spilled coffee on him.”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t you run into Carter when you met him, while carrying a comically large stack of papers?”
“Right. Your point?”
“Girl,” Chloe says, and I can practically see the expression on her face. “There are two men fighting over you—three if you count Barry—”
“Which I don’t.”
“—And you’re in a rom-com of your own making.”
“I am not, Chloe.”
“You’re the charming, klutzy heroine and you’re in the midst of a lopsided love triangle, and you need to go down there and kiss Drew right now,” Chloe says with bravado.
“In front of Uncle Don?”
“Don doesn’t care,” she says. Her voice grows muffled before she comes back to the phone. “Sorry, Nick’s being a total pill. Like, ‘there are customers’ and ‘I don’t pay you to talk on the phone’ and ‘your screaming is upsetting Gary.’”
“Gary doesn’t like loud noises. You know that. And anyway, this feels wrong. I mean, I’m sort of dating Carter—”
Chloe snorts. “Um, you have been on one date with Carter. I’m ten thousand percent sure he hasn’t put his entire dating life on hold just because he got coffee with you. Just promise me we can dissect this moment a million times tonight.”
“Promise. Don’t get fired.”
“Bye.”
I take a look at myself in my vanity, the same one I used to stare into in elementary school when I wished I had boobs. And in middle school when I wished I didn’t have braces. And in high school when I wished, more than anything, that my mom was here.
And now I’m looking into it, wondering what’s happening. I almost kissed Drew—there’s no denying it. I run my fingers over my hair and hastily apply a little more blush and lipstick. But wait, that’s way too obvious; tinted lip gloss is my typical daytime look, and lipstick screams, “Hey, look at me, I’m trying to look hot.” But what’s wrong with trying to look hot? Maybe I want to look like I put some effort into this.
Ugh. I grab a tissue and wipe off most of the lipstick, then put some clear gloss on over it.
I study my reflection. I look okay—like a woman who’s about to walk downstairs and find a movie star with her uncle’s D&D friends, and oh shit, Drew is going to meet Don’s D&D friends.
I hobble downstairs as quickly as I can, round the corner into the dining room, and find . . .
Uncle Don patiently explaining the rules of D&D to Drew while the rest of the D&D guys look on.
Drew looks up and sees me, his face breaking into a smile so big that I would have a hard time standing up even if I wasn’t injured. “Hey,” he says. “You were supposed to let me help you down the stairs.”
“I just thought,” I say, looking around the table, shocked at how well Drew’s fitting in, “that you might want to learn everything there is to know about D&D.”
“This is actually pretty interesting,” Drew says.
“No duh,” says Dungeon Master Rick.
“Drew was telling us about the guy, weren’t you, Drew?” Earl says, nudging Paul. “The guy we saw in the movie. Tatum Channing?”
“Channing Tatum,” Drew corrects him, and I stifle a laugh.
“Yeah,” Earl says as Paul nods. “We like that guy.”
“He’s a nice dude,” says Drew, and I barely have time to wonder what Channing Tatum movies these guys are watching before he says, “Well, this was really fun, but we have an early call time tomorrow so I’ve gotta get to bed.”
I try to stop myself from imagining Drew in his hotel-room bed, but I am unsuccessful. He shakes everyone’s hand, and Uncle Don says, “Come back anytime; we’d love to have you play with us.”
“We can’t bring in a new character at this point—” Dungeon Master Rick starts.
“We can do whatever we want!” Paul says gleefully. “That’s the fun of D&D!”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” I say, shooting Uncle Don a look. He shrugs.
“By walk,” Drew says, grabbing my arm to steady me, “you mean limp-hop, right?”
“Maybe.” I let myself lean into him and embrace the weirdness of this moment. I reluctantly let go of Drew’s arm when he opens the front door. He pulls on his coat and shoves a beanie on his head as he steps out onto the porch.
“Oh,” he says, turning around as I lean on the doorframe, and I think he’s about to go back to that conversation we were having in my room right before Uncle Don burst in and I fell over. That gloriously sexual-tension-filled conversation.
“Definitely thought the dungeon master was some weird sex thing,” Drew says, walking down the stairs and looking over his shoulder. “This makes a lot more sense.”
I laugh, both relieved and disappointed.
He turns around. “Good night, Annie.” And then he walks away.
I close the door and lean back against it. The sound of rolling dice comes from the dining room, then Dungeon Master Rick saying something about the party entering a tavern.