A Hue of Blu

Year Four/Week Eleven – Present

Scott let me pick the restaurant tonight so I chose Terroni.

“In the mood for Italian tonight, eh Jace?” he asked, choosing a bottle of red for the table. “The Malbec, please.”

Our waitress nodded and sauntered away, leaving me alone with my brother. Fuck, that felt weird to say.

“It’s been a while since we had dinner together,” Scott said, folding his grey cufflinks. I’m glad he dressed up too. It made me feel important.

“Yeah, how’s Sab doing?”

“Good, good.” He leaned in, whispering as if he wanted no one but me to hear his next words. “Between us, I’m thinking of proposing soon.”

My jaw dropped. “Shut the fuck up, no way.”

“No way, good? Or no way, bad?”

I was awestruck. “No way, good, are you kidding? Scott that’s awesome, I’m happy for you.”

My brother relaxed into his chair as the wine arrived. The waitress poured two glasses but I couldn’t concentrate on anything except my brother’s happiness.

I loved Sab. They’d been together for over four years now and she always treated me and everyone around her like gold. It was a trait I admired and often times, I imagined that’s why Scott was always the kindest to me.

Baxter and Will were go-go-go. They’d had a string of relationships and never really settled. With their lifestyles, I doubted they even wanted to. But there was something peaceful about a solid commitment.

Hookups weren’t fulfilling, not to me anyways. Giving away a part of myself to someone who knew nothing at all held no place in my mind. I mean, no girl really did. No girl except…

“Any marriage material you been seeing?” Scott asked. “Will told me you were talking to someone, but I forget her name.”

I figured. He probably told her she was some art freak and chewed ground up cigarettes. “What do you know about her?”

“Ah, so there is a girl.”

“I really don’t know how to explain the relationship.” And that was the truth.

Blu and I were just friends. If anything, I wanted to save her from the circumstances she refused to tell me about. Did I like her? I really couldn’t say. Did I enjoy spending time with her? Yeah, a lot. But feelings were never black and white. They never stuck with me. I was picky and the last girl I wanted didn’t choose me. It wouldn’t be fair to choose Blu if I wasn’t one hundred percent certain.

“Just having fun with her then?”

I sipped my wine, licking the residue off my bottom lip. “We haven’t done anything. I really don’t know if I see her that way, honestly.”

He watched me curiously, elbows on the table, glass stem in hand. It made me feel good, like he wanted me to continue, like he cared about what I had to say.

Truthfully, I was tired of talking about Blu. But if he asked the question, I wanted to answer. We hadn’t talked like this in ages.

“I like flirting with her. I know she likes me and she makes me feel good about myself.” Releasing those words made me sound like a total jackass, but I could always be honest with my brothers. They were family, after all.

“Hm. Well, you got all the time in the world, Jace. You’re young.”

There it was.

The comment I was dreading. The insult that every single fucking person in my family hung over my head like a goddamn pacifier.

You’re young. You got time.

“We all have time, don’t we?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Jace.”

His voice was distant. I kept staring at the wine in my glass. I didn’t want to look up.

“Jace,” he tapped the top of my hand, demanding my attention. “Mom told me a bit about how you were feeling. If there’s anything you want to say, just say it.”

That was an opportune moment to address my emotions. I mean, I had the chance, he’d given it to me. But instead, I tipped my glass to him and forced away the annoyance.

“Nothing to say. Just happy to be here.” My smile was a lie. My response was a lie. But how would my brother react if I failed to control my feelings?

Fitting for a child, he’d say. Can’t stop whining.

So for the rest of dinner, I lived in the present hearing about my brother’s proposal ideas, his work and life plans. Equally, he asked about my direction, the paths I considered taking and the places I wanted to go.

It was a success, you see. I did the right thing. Had I opened up, things would’ve been awkward. He’d view me as weak, no doubt. But I was strong now. I got to have an earnest conversation with him because I hid what needed to be concealed.

There was no space for insecurity, doubt or blame. I was too mature for that.

I was.

Scott needed to believe that.

Otherwise he’d see right through me.