Page 11 of Tech Bros

I frown at the expression, but apparently Malcolm gets it. “Dreamgirl, huh?”

“Ugh,” she groans. “It’s a trope, Mal. Haven’t you seenGarden State?”

“Are there aliens in it?”

She snorts.

“Then no,” he says.

I’m lost, too. “If I watch it, will I understand what you’re talking about?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, I hate movies,” I say.

Malcolm has his phone out and he’s reading from the screen. He laughs. “This totally fits. Deacon. See if this helps. ‘The manicpixie dream girl or MPDG is a stock character in fiction who’s quirky, eccentric and exists to help a male protagonist overcome his personal issues and embrace life.’”

Bailey laughs out loud. “See? She’s trying to bring you out of your shell, D.”

“Not my type either,” I tell Bailey.

She digs in her tote bag and pulls out a ball covered in cling wrap. “I brought this for Evan.”

I take the cheese ball from her. “Thanks. He lives off these when we have one.”

“Bullshit,” Malcolm says.

Bailey shoots him a glare. “Just because you have texture issues doesn’t mean everyone does.”

“I have pineapple and onion issues.”

“Greenonions,” she says.

“Do you like those?” Malcolm asks me, pointing at the cheeseball.

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “I think she meansmytexture issues.”

“It’s avintagerecipe. You guys were raised on buckwheat pancakes and kale smoothies, and it shows.”

Their easy banter continues as I distribute the rest of the leftovers between them. Bailey gets more, but she’s single, so I don’t feel bad about it. Also, she brought the cheeseball. Malcolm doesn’t complain. He’s always been really nice to me. I doubt he would be if he knew the kind of thoughts I used to have about his boyfriend. Despite my impulsivity issues, I’ve managed to keep all those thoughts to myself.

“I need to wrap this up.” I have to get into the shower soon if I want to be on time for this date. “I have plans tonight.”

“What kind of plans?” Bailey asks.

I shake my head and ignore the question. “Did you get enough food?”

She gives my arm a performative pat. “Yes. Thank you. And I hope whatever you’ve got going on is fun.”

I nod as my nerves kick in.

While they gather their things to leave, Malcolm offers to carry Bailey’s tote bag, but she assures him she’s capable of carrying it herself.

He rolls his eyes for my benefit and thanks me again for the food. “We should do a dinner soon,” he says.

“I’m planning to go to the farmer’s market next weekend. So maybe next Saturday? Here?” I offer. Because I need to make plans for next weekend, too, if this whole life change is going to have a chance of working out.

“Ryan and I are out of town next weekend, but we could do the one after. Bails?”