“Hey, I know you think I just want you to drive my drunk ass home, but that’s not why I dragged you out. Seriously. You have no fun, and your eyes are going to pop out of your head if you keep staring at computers all day. You’re thirty-two. It’s time you do some actual living. Have fun just for a night.”
“And make sure you get home safe and sound and don’t take anyone inappropriate back?”
“Define inappropriate.”
I roll my eyes. Sebastien is six years younger than me, and he’s far from ready to settle down. He goes out fairly regularly, and he has dated, or I guess I should say, had a few one-night stands where the guys were questionable at best. He’s actually had shit stolen from his house. One time, it was just the cash out of his wallet. The other time, it was his whole wallet. And a few times, it was random shit like DVDs or a fucking game console. Who steals a game console? There was one guy who refused to leave after Sebastien sobered up and decided he wasn’t in the mood, and he had to lock himself in the bathroom and call the cops when the guy got violent about it. My brother is an adult, certainly, but I do feel, as the older brother, that I should protect him. When I hear those stories, it makes me furious. Furious that people used my brother. Stole from him. Threatened to hurt him. Seriously. Who the fuck does that?
“Can we please just go?” I ask, instead. “You want me to have fun? Fine. I’m game. Let’s go play pool or darts or something.”
“Pool or darts?” Sebastien studies me incredulously.
We look completely different even though we share the same mom. We both took Ted’s last name, but as far as similarities, that’s where it ends. Our personalities are different for sure, but physically, we look nothing alike, either. Unfortunately, I know I got my bronzed skin and olive undertone from my dad. He had dark black hair and dark eyes like me. But I’m taller than he ever was, at least from what I remember. I’m a few inches over six feet and built like I could be a football star, although I never played since I was always busy ‘fooling around with computers and doing boring shit’, as Sebastien used to say. Sebastien has paler skin, blue eyes, and sandy blonde hair. He looks like Ted more than he looks like my mom. He’s tall like me but slimmer—not built like an athlete at all. Despite that, he’s very good looking, and he can rock a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt far better than I can.
For the record, we’re pretty much matching tonight, outfit wise, except Sebastien paired his with a pair of red and white canvas shoes while I went for the classic, office-y, square-toed, black leather deal.
I look out of place, I feel out of place, and I want to leave.
“What’s wrong with darts?”
“Are you eighty? That’s what’s wrong with darts.”
“Lots of people like darts.”
“Maybe we should go play shuffleboard.”
“You’re an asshole.”
Sebastien grins at me. He’s nursing some kind of mixed soda and hard alcohol drink that probably tastes like piss and costs a fortune, but he doesn’t seem to mind. On the other hand, I’m nursing nothing but my own desperation to get the hell out of here and back to my basement, where I’m comfortable and have the space to do something I’m actually good at.
“Oh, look.” Sebastien whips his head to the side, but then whirls back and leans in. “No. Don’t look. That’s bad. Too obvious. There’s a good looking lady over there who’s been checking you out for a few minutes. At least five.”
“Why?” I ask flatly. I didn’t actually think Sebastien was serious about people who aren’t gay coming here to pick people up. Shows how much I know. I know it probably makes me sound like an asshole, but I’m not. I just never go out. So I seriously had no idea.
“Why?” Sebastien bumps me with his elbow. “Because you’re a good looking, single guy, that’s why.”
“You dragged me out,” I protest. “I’m not here to meet someone.”
“You don’t have to meet, meet her. You could just flirt a little. Or let her flirt. Have a drink. Be nice. Be friendly. Maybe take her home after.”
“Definitely not doing that.”
Sebastien nods. “You only dated dried up old prunes when you actually dated. Those women weren’t nice from the start. But this girl looks nice. She seems sweet.”
“You can tell all that from across the room?”
“Of course. She’s with her friend, and he’s gay. She probably came with him because everyone hates going out alone. She’s not the kind who hooks up. I was kidding about that. And I can tell because I’ve done enough people watching here to know the difference. She’d probably like to go out for coffee sometime. Or a nice dinner. She’s that kind of girl. A nice girl. The kind who, you know, wouldn’t use you for your money, break up with you, and then try and take you for a fuck ton of cash.”