Anything Less Than Everything Read online

  “Oh, Brooke!” The fake cheery voice. I hated that voice. “I forgot to tell you. This is Dave’s friend, Carson. I invited him to join us!”

  Forgot nothing. I’d been set up. I shot daggers at Jill, but tried to give a polite, if somewhat forced, smile to Carson. “Nice to meet you,” he said, pulling out the chair next to me and sitting down. I could sense the nervousness in his voice. The slight quaver, the forced conversation. I was going to kill Jill.

  “So, Carson,” Jill began. “Brooke just started a summer job at a home boutique, didn’t you, Brooke?” I knew what she was doing, that she wanted me to answer the question, then follow with one of my own, and pretty soon we’d all be involved in a lively conversation. I was not biting.

  “That’s right,” I said, looking at her and not Carson.

  Jill paused, waited for me to continue. When she saw I wasn’t, she shot me a look, but continued, undaunted. “She’s a teacher the rest of the year, right Brooke?”

  “Right,” I said. After a couple of more questions like this she gave up and moved on to topics of conversation that actually interested her. Dave gave me a sympathetic smile across the table. He was most likely an unwitting accomplice in Jill’s little scheme.

  We ordered, and though my appetite had been ruined, I chose a steak, figuring that if I could just keep chewing I could get away with not talking. It worked, for the most part. Carson continued to try to drum up conversation; I continued to stifle it as best I could, walking a fine line between not leading him on and being rude. I was being a brat, and I knew it, but I hate having other people try to map out my life for me. It wasn’t really Carson’s fault, and I’m sure he was a nice guy, but I was going to be the one who decided whom and if I dated, not Jill.

  When there was nothing left on my plate to keep me quiet, I snuck a peek at the clock on my phone: 7:15. We’d been at the restaurant for nearly an hour. I needed only to stick it out for a few more minutes before I could reasonably leave.

  Our waitress came by to ask about the check, and Dave, bless his heart, quickly told her that he was taking care of it. By doing so he saved me the awkward situation of Carson trying to pay for my meal, thus making it a date, and the scene I might have created trying to not let him. I met his eyes across the table and smiled to let him know I understood what he was doing. He winked in reply. His taste in girlfriends might be a little suspect, but Dave really was a pretty good guy.

  Out in the parking lot, Jill put out a last ditch effort to get me to fall in love with Carson. “This was fun!” she exclaimed. Fun? This was torture for all involved. I just smiled politely, my expression of the night. “We must do this again. Soon.”

  “I’d like that,” Carson answered her while looking at me and smiling. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. I could not have made it more obvious that I was not interested.

  Fortunately Jill had ridden with me, so I was not dependent on her for a way home. She and Dave left together, and I assume Carson went off on his own. I didn’t really check.

  Safe in my car, I pounded out a text: I am going to kill my sister. Aaron’s reply came just moments later: Almost home. call you in 10.

  My nightly talks with Aaron were another habit I had formed in the past few weeks. Fortunately, the potential consequences of this one were much less scary than dinner with Jill. It started innocently enough. He called after arriving back at school from camp, just as he promised he would. It was my first night in my new place, and until I heard his voice, I was feeling pretty alone. He asked about the apartment. I asked him about his flight. We talked for two hours.

  And then he called the next night. And the next. I think I might have called him after that. The conversations were typically shorter than those first ones, but I looked forward to them just the same.

  Our schedules often overlapped: he working at the golf course when I was off, or I going into work at Dwell just before he left to work out with his teammates, but we often sent text messages throughout the day, sharing random happenings and thoughts. And if we hung up much before going to sleep, I would always get a message later wishing me sweet dreams.

  With each question answered, each story told, I learned more about the guy who was quickly becoming my best friend. And though we never used those words, I was pretty sure he felt the same.

  And so it did not surprise me when he was so quick to reply to my distress message.

  “Hey,” I answered the phone.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, worry in his voice. “What’d she do?”

  “She set me up!” I blurted out.

  “Set you up?”

  “With a boy!”

  “Wait a second,” he said. “Start over.”

  I took a deep breath and then told him about the previous few hours, from ambush to extraction. “I cannot believe her!” I finished. Aaron didn’t say anything. “Well?” I finally asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “What am I supposed to do about this?” He was being such a guy at the moment.

  Aaron sighed. “Do you want to go out with this guy?” It was a stupid question, and I didn’t answer. “You’re glaring at me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Aaron laughed softly, which only made me angrier. “I’m glad you find this so humorous,” I said.

  “I’ve never seen...uh, heard you mad before,” he said. “It’s cute.”

  “You’re supposed to agree with me and validate my feelings towards my sister,” I said, “not laugh at me.”

  He cleared his throat, and I imagined him straightening his face, wiping the smile off of it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But it is cute.”

  “Aaron...”

  “Okay, okay,” he said. “You are absolutely right to be mad at your sister for putting you in an uncomfortable position.”

  “Thank you.”

  He wasn’t done, though. “But maybe her intentions were good. I mean, maybe she just wants you to be happy again and thought you needed a little nudge.”

  “I am happy. And I don’t need a guy to make me so.” That wasn’t entirely true. Yes, I was in a much better place than I was a few months, or even a few weeks before, but much of that happiness was tied to Aaron. Work was great, my new apartment was liberating, and I was going out with friends often, but what I looked forward to and enjoyed more than any of it was talking to Aaron.

  I thought about what this conversation would look like if he was here, if we were talking over pepperoni and mushroom instead of 500 miles of telephone wires. The smile that danced in his eyes would make it impossible for me to stay aggravated with him. He’d probably bump my leg with his knee, jerking me back to more important things. That’s when I realized how much I missed Aaron.

  “I know you don’t,” he said. “All I’m saying is that maybe Jill meant well, even if she went about it all wrong.”

  “She wanted a project. You remember Brad and Leighann, don’t you?” Jill loved throwing people together. When the relationship succeeded, she gloated; when it failed, and it almost always did, she denied any involvement. I had no interest in ending up like the many others: messy breakups, drama. “But what really ticks me off,” I continued, “is that she paid no attention to the quality of guy she was setting me up with. Carson is so obviously completely wrong for me.”

  “What was so bad about him?” I had to give him credit: Aaron was a great listener. Every other guy I’d ever known, preschool to present, was incapable of staying focused on a girl talking for more than five minutes. Aaron paid attention to everything I said like there’d be a quiz on it at the end of the conversation.

  “Aaron, he was awful. I mean, we obviously have nothing in common.”

  “What? He doesn’t share your love of football? Or maybe he likes to shower girls with flowers?”

  “Validating, not laughing,” I said. I paused. “It was really more about his...never mind.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “N
o matter which words I use I’ll end up sounding stuck up and judgmental, even though I don’t mean it that way.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that with me, Brooke. Tell me.”

  I sighed, knowing there was no way I was getting out of this. “Okay. We had very little to talk about because he lacked the ability to carry on intelligent conversation.” There. I’d said it, and he could judge me all he wanted.

  “So he’s dumb, as in stupid? Or just goofy?” Aaron’s voice was even, not accusing, but I knew he probably thought I was crazy.

  I sighed. “It’s not like a guy has to be a rocket scientist, or even highly educated, to be dateable, but if he’s not pretty intelligent, well...” I stopped again, not sure how to go on. I knew what I meant, but how do you talk to a guy about problems with guys?

  “I get it,” Aaron said. Some of my embarrassment eased. “So this guy was a blockhead.”

  “Pretty much. Do you know what he said? He asked me if I’d read ‘The Tell Tale Heart’ by Edgar Allen Poe, except he said ‘The Tell Tale Breath by that Polk guy.’ Please. Like I wouldn’t have read that, and how does anyone not know who Poe is...?” I trailed off again.

  Once again, Aaron jumped in. “You’re right. ‘The Tell Tale Heart’ is required reading for pretty much every middle schooler.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And his grammar. Don’t even get me started. Don’t you think if you wanted to impress an English teacher you would try to use correct English?”

  “I know I do,” Aaron said. I detected a smile in his voice, but instead of it aggravating me this time, it made me smile myself. “So this guy is definitely out of contention based on I.Q., but what else about him was so bad?”

  I thought for a second. There were so many things about Carson that were wrong, but what was the most important? “He has no ambition,” I said finally. “He has a job, but not a career. He’s twenty-five and has no idea what he wants to be when he grows up, and isn’t doing anything to try to figure it out.” That I knew Aaron would understand. He worked every day on something that would help him make it to the NFL. He gave up summer breaks for camps and the weight room, celebrated Christmas on the team bus instead of with his family. I knew he hated that last part the most. But as he had pointed out, a few years of sacrificing could enable him to provide his parents and sisters with everything they could ever need or want.

  “It sounds like this guy is nowhere near good enough for my Brooke,” he said. “But I doubt anyone is,” he added, a bit more quietly. I was glad the distance hid the blush I felt creeping across my face. “But, Brooke? Would it have mattered?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If Jill had secretly set you up with the most amazing guy in the world, would you have written him off, too, based on the circumstances?”

  He had me there.

  “Okay, so I probably was a little too critical of Carson,” I admitted. “But we really didn’t have anything in common. At all.”

  “And that’s all that matters. I’m not trying to convince you to date him or anyone, I just don’t want to see you reject everyone based on...prior experiences.” Aaron knew me too well already. And in this regard, probably better than I knew myself. “But do one thing for me,” he said.

  “Of course,” I replied.

  “Promise me that you’ll never settle for anything less than everything. Don’t compromise.” He paused. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Sweet dreams.”

  Hot showers are a great way to wash away yucky evenings. After I had used every drop of steaming water, I wrapped my hair in a towel and dressed in my comfiest pajamas. I flopped across my bed and opened my laptop, navigating to BEsocial, the networking site that lets you connect with friends online. I typed a new headline: Thinking about just being mad for a while since Aaron Davidson finds it so funny, and I do so love to make him laugh :). I smiled thinking about the possible comments I would receive from him in response.

  A connection request blinked at me from just above my headline. Carson. Of course. I clicked “no,” and snapped the computer shut, rolling my eyes as I did so.

  My mood was much improved, but Aaron’s last words to me were bothering me. Maybe bothering was not the right word. They…well, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Never settle for anything less than everything. Don’t compromise. I pulled the list out of the box and smoothed it out in front of me. After knowing him for all of one hour, and even without paying much attention, I could eliminate Carson based on three items, not including the ones I told Aaron about.

  Curiosity got the best of me then. Even if I was being very liberal in my definitions, Spencer met only nine of my criteria. Nine. Out of fifty-six. I shook my head in disbelief and disgust. How in the world had I let myself fall for someone who was so little of what I wanted? I must have been distracted by #46 – is a good kisser and #21 – Cares about his appearance- NOT A SLOB.

  Rarely was I the first thing on Spencer’s mind in the morning (#55). He even forgot to pick me up for class on more than one occasion. Now, I woke up every morning to a text on my phone from Aaron: Good morning! And Aaron would never try to change me (#47) the way Spencer had. Qualities I obviously found important in a friend, I had failed to require from my boyfriend.

  Jill was right, though. Finding someone who lived up to my expectations would be impossible.

  I had promised Aaron I wouldn’t compromise though, so I guessed I would just have to remain single.

  Chapter 9

  Accepting the position at Dwell was proving to be a great decision. The work was interesting, but not overly difficult, either physically or mentally. I was actually starting to wonder what I would have done all summer without it.

  I was particularly appreciative of it the day after the Great Set Up. I was still irritated at Jill, but creating centerpieces distracted me from my anger. There was something very satisfying about taking disparate items and combining them into a cohesive work. Once I was in the creating zone, nothing really bothered me.

  “I really like that one.” I looked up to see Caryn standing beside the work table, studying my work.

  “You think? I’m struggling with the height,” I said.

  “No, it’s perfect. Here, sit down and look,” she said motioning toward the chair on the other side of the table. She was right. Once I looked at it from the right perspective, I could see that the proportions were correct. So were the colors. I’d mixed white hydrangeas tinged with green with artichokes, filling it out with grasses.

  “What about the container?” I asked, indicating the aged brass bowl.

  “It’s good, Brooke. Quit doubting yourself. You really have a good eye for this stuff.” I smiled at the compliment. In the several weeks I’d been working at Dwell, I’d learned that Caryn was tough, but fair. She wasn’t one to gush, so when she complimented you, it was a big deal.

  I’d started out learning the register, then moved to stocking shelves and merchandising end caps. That had naturally led to me helping customers, as I was the one on the floor when they had questions.

  Caryn had two other employees besides me: an older woman without much personality who did the custom florals and a teenage guy who cleaned, brought out the heavy pieces for customers, and stocked the high shelves. Needless to say, I had not become close with either of them. Caryn, however, was quickly becoming someone I considered a friend. I loved her no nonsense approach, how she always shot straight with me.

  Like now.

  “You do that a lot, don’t you?” Her question wasn’t meant to be prying, more of an observation.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she was referring to.

  “You doubt yourself. And not just here.” I sighed. That was two people whom I’d met in the last month who saw right through me.

  “I’m trying not to, but, yes, I guess I do.”

  “Why? You’re smart, talented, beautiful, caring--why would you doubt yourself?”
/>
  Why did I? It would be easy to blame Spencer for making me feel like I was never enough, but it had started way before I met him. I’d always felt the need to live up to everyone’s expectations for me, whether they be my parents, teachers or friends. It was worse with Spencer, of course, but putting pressure on myself to be perfect was nothing new.

  Until Spencer, though, I’d pretty much managed to be perfect. Well, at least as much as human can be. I’d gotten stellar grades throughout school, had lots of friends, and was in all the right circles. It wasn’t until I started dating Spencer that my efforts were ever not good enough. After the honeymoon period of our relationship wore off, I’d started going to the writing center for help with papers that the tutors there assured me were already better than they themselves could write. I agonized over what to wear, took way too long to choose what to order for dinner, and had Spencer ever given me a choice in which movie to see, I’m certain he’d have gone through an entire tub of popcorn before I’d have decided.

  And it wasn’t until we broke up that I realized I’d been doing it. Pathetic.

  I wasn’t as bad about it now, but obviously my self doubt wasn’t completely a thing of the past. Perhaps I’d been relying on others too much to validate me. Caryn did that, as did Aaron, of course, but the issues with my mom and grandmother and others were still nagging at me. I needed to let them go. And it was something I’d have to do on my own. Eventually.

  Caryn and I both looked up at the sound of the bell over the door. Jill looked around, and then, seeing me, headed toward the work station.

  “Hey,” she said. “Do you have a second?” She looked from me to Caryn.

  “Go,” Caryn said, touching my arm. “Take a break.”

  I led Jill to the office/break room at the back of the store and grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge there. I leaned against Caryn’s desk, arms crossed, but didn’t say anything. She’d come to see me, so she could be the one to start.