Darting eyes confuse me. Does he not care at all or does it mean something? Not just him, also him, and him, and definitely her …
BRONCHO have my emotions tangled and they’re getting tighter. There’s a 12% beer in my hand which tastes like wet soil. It fits. They break. I feel it. I see it. This means everything to them — being in a small room of sweaty strangers several states from home, sharing something so confusing that it makes perfect sense.
I let go. I give in. I dance. That tan trench coat is becoming less mysterious and more friendly. Ryan’s sliding shoes and finger kisses tightly lace my eyes closed and peel my smile high. I never lose interest. I forget about the possibility of losing interest because I’m initially so inside my head trying to figure out what’s inside his, or theirs. It’s a beautiful mess. My kind of mess. This rules.
“I saw you guys in the audience.” Ryan opens up, outside Will’s Pub after the set to Jenn and I. “I liked you guys. I liked you guys because … you looked like you’d be the same height as me.” Caught off guard and laughing, my next move makes sense.
