Folie à Deux

By the time we piled out of the elevator, we were only five minutes late, which might’ve been a record for Hadley. Butterflies were crowding my stomach.

We weren’t actually the last ones there, though. I saw Cobra Starship, but Ryan wasn’t there yet. My butterflies couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.

“Guess we should go introduce ourselves,” said Zoe cheerily. So we did. I just trailed right behind Zoe and tried not to mumble too much.

I had just finished introducing myself to Pete Wentz when I felt Dylan’s sharp elbow in my side.

“Hottie alert,” he hissed. I turned around to see Ryan and someone I assumed to be the aforementioned Bren.

“Really? Guyliner is just not my thing,” said Zoe dismissively, and started heading Gabe-wards.

“There’s no way he’s straight,” said Dylan.

“Wait, which one are we talking about?” I asked, a little alarmed.

“Dark hair,” he replied, eyes still fixed on the two guys. I breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

“Sorry we’re late,” said Ryan.

“Don’t worry, I forgot, whenever Bren’s around I have to tell him ten minutes earlier than the actual time,” smirked Pete. “Alright, we’re all here, Andy and Joe are staying in.”

“There’s something new,” muttered Gabe under his breath. “Milady?” he said to Zoe, offering her his elbow. The group started to walk outside.

“Twenty bucks says less than three days,” Dylan hissed, gesturing to them. We shook on it.

“Why’d you change your shirt?” Ryan said, making my stomach leap a little when he appeared at my side. I just stared blankly at him. “You know. Reading is sexy. I liked it.”

“I- um. I thought. I thought you were joking,” I stuttered in reply, blushing. His smile was mostly in his eyes, I noticed. His mouth just quirked up a little at the side, but his eyes sparkled. I liked it.

“Nah. So who’s your favorite author?” he asked, still in that soft tone that made it seem like our conversation was a secret, even though Dylan and Brendon were walking right next to us.

“Kurt Vonnegut, Jack Kerouac, Chuck Palahniuk, Jose Saramago,” I replied promptly. There was one question, at least, that I could answer without stuttering.

“Wow. I love Palahniuk, he-“

“Hey Ry, before you get started with your little obsession again, can you introduce us?” Brendon cut him off.

“Right. Sorry. Brendon, this is Claire, Claire, this is Brendon.”

“And I’m Dylan,” said Dylan, extending his hand across me to shake Brendon and Ryan’s.

It took five cabs to take us all to the restaurant, where we were seated at a long table in the back. I was on the end, next to Dylan, with Brendon and Ryan across from us. Brendon and Ryan told funny tour stories throughout dinner, but I was only half-listening. Mostly I watched the two of them; the way they finished each other’s sentences, like they knew exactly how the other thought, or the way Ryan would punch Brendon lightly on the arm if he said something stupid. They seemed like two halves of a whole, perfectly in sync, and it made me feel utterly superfluous.

Because I couldn’t deny that I had a crush on Ryan. How could I not have a crush on him? But if anything ever happened between us, I had a feeling that I would end up as the third wheel. Not that I thought I had a chance.

I just wanted what they had. Not necessarily with Ryan, because he was so clearly so far out of my league, but with anyone.

We each had our own role in the band. Zoe was our energy. Dylan was our common sense. Hadley was our diva. And I was like the psychiatrist; there to listen, but never to talk. To mediate, but never to contribute an opinion of my own. And so it was like I knew them all better than they knew myself, but it wasn’t reciprocated. Nobody knew me. And until that dinner, I didn’t mind. But as I watched Brendon whisper something in Ryan’s ear and they both dissolved into giggles, I had never wanted anything as badly as I wanted to share something like that.

The worst was watching Dylan. He would start talking to Brendon, but it was like every story Brendon told needed confirmation from Ryan, and then the two of them would start trading inside jokes, and they didn’t meant to shut us out but there was no way we could keep up. And Dylan just kept trying.

It was around nine at night by the time we made our way out of the restaurant.

“Anyone up for clubbing?” asked Gabe, even as he stifled a huge yawn.

“Sure,” Zoe said enthusiastically, covering a yawn of her own.

“Hell no,” said Patrick firmly. “We’re all jetlagged and I want a good show tomorrow.”

They didn’t take too much convincing, and we hailed some cabs and headed back. We all said goodnight in the hallway, and I felt a final pang of jealousy as Brendon slung an arm around Ryan as they entered their room.

“Guys, Pete is so amazing,” squealed Hadley as soon as the door was shut behind us. All three of us stopped short and stared at her.

Thanks to incredibly low self-esteem and a general distrust of guys, Hadley’s never had a serious relationship, let alone a serious crush. She admires from afar (as she did with Dylan) and never does anything about it; if a guy ever starts to like her, which they often do as she’s gorgeous, she abruptly loses interest. So we were pretty shocked when she flopped down on one of the beds and sighed happily.

“Spill,” said Zoe, sitting down next to her.

“Well, we talked through most of dinner and he’s just incredible, he’s so deep, you know? We just got each other right away. And he’s so cute.” She sighed again, smiling broadly.

“Well…that’s great,” said Dylan, still looking a little shocked. “So that’s two of us taken, then.”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to me and Gabe?” Zoe said smugly. “Yeah, he’s pretty cute.”

Zoe’s motto when it comes to boys is, as with everything, “Life’s too short.” She doesn’t worry, doesn’t get emotionally involved, doesn’t let herself get hurt, she just enjoys herself. She’s always said that she’ll know the right one when he comes along, and until then, nobody really matters.

“Now we just need to find someone for me,” Dylan said glumly. “I could’ve sworn Brendon is gay, but he’s clearly not interested.”

“Sorry babe. We’ll find you some groupies or something,” said Zoe.

“Yep. Hot groupie boys, please. I can has bedtime nao?” said Dylan, yawning.

I didn’t even bother to bring up my own stupid crush. It was never going to happen.