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Of course I kissed him back. What was I supposed to do? Yes, he was with April then, and yes, I was friends with April. But this was my one chance in this lifetime to steal a boy from a girl. This was something that only happens in TV shows on The CW, you know? Technically speaking, I was abiding by the rule we’d grown up with: bros before hoes. Not that I’m calling April a hoe. Even though she had just told me that a couple weeks before, she and Graham had done it in the doorway of Roberta’s, which I thought was gross, but also hot, but also I had lots of questions. How do you end up having sex in the doorway of Roberta’s? And did it smell like pepperoni?
But this isn’t about Roberta or her doorway. It’s about me and April and Graham. It’s about a hipster love triangle that can only happen when everyone involved is 23 and living off the L train. He was a line cook (I know! Squeal!) and he worked at the same restaurant as my roommate, Mandy. Mandy and April both worked there as hostesses. That’s how April and Graham met. Hostesses and line cooks are basically the head cheerleaders and star quarterbacks of the restaurant world. They’re destined to meet and mate and have the perfect height difference.
Graham and I, however, were introduced by fate. Just kidding. The girls were always talking about Graham. It was Graham this, Graham that. At this point, he was just a dude in my mind. He only really entered my psyche when Mandy told me that he once came over to our apartment and peered into my insanely messy room and asked, “Who lives there?” Now he was a curious dude in my mind. We were then introduced at a rooftop party I almost didn’t go to. It was a hot summer night, but the party was nearby so I decided, why not, and lazily threw on some loafers. Isn’t it crazy that a year-long love affair can begin by just putting on some loafers?
“Oh, and Harry, this is Graham,” Mandy said, unknowingly connecting two points of the triangle. The curious dude entered my life holding a bottle of beer. The first thing he did was ask me how tall I was, and then, in typical straight-boy fashion, he made us stand back to back to determine who was taller. It was the first time we touched, and it would’ve been the last if only April had pushed me off the roof onto Troutman Street below. But nothing had happened yet. Graham met the boy with the messy room, learned he was a couple of inches taller than he was, and that was that.
I should note a few things before I get to the part where he kissed me. There is no world in which I should’ve been a threat to April’s romantic life. She looked like Winona Ryder and Natalie Portman ran full speed into each other and emerged from the dust with soft-baked brownie eyes and a forever smirk. I, on the other hand, was a gangly boy with hair in between my eyes because I thought it made me look like River Phoenix. She was a song, and I was a refrigerator magnet. Not to mention, we were friends! We were going to college together on the Upper East Side! We weren’t attached at the hip, but we’d giggle in the library and share wine at apartment parties on 2nd Avenue.
The restaurant they all worked at was having a party. They rented out the basement of a bar on Bleecker, and for some reason, the theme was ‘90s cartoons. I think I was going as someone from Rocket Power, which is to say I wore big jeans and even bigger sneakers. Everyone was drinking and having a good time. I was getting another drink at the open bar (probably why I was even there in the first place) when Graham saddled up to me and started talking. I don’t remember what we were talking about, but I do remember him kissing me, suddenly, openly, and me kissing him back, just as suddenly, just as openly. I remember his coworkers, the cooks, whooping and laughing. I remember feeling like I’d won 19 touchdowns in a row.
I remember the car ride home. Me and April sat on either side of Karly in the backseat — April crying, me beaming, both of us drunk. I got out my phone and texted Mandy so that April wouldn’t hear me ask, “Can I have Graham’s number?”
