He was going to do it. He was going, on a limb, on this crazy adventure with this beautiful woman and was simultaneously terrified and excited. Excited, for obvious reasons. He felt "in love", like those people in movies who wake up smiling and won't stop beaming all day. He had a new reason to want to get out of bed, and he couldn't deny that he enjoyed waking up next to someone after such a long time. The last time he'd felt that way was with Jess.
Jess. Jess was why he was terrified. He had loved Jess more than he'd loved anyone in his entire life and he'd messed it up and she'd moved on to handsome doctors and a happier life. All he could think about was how if he couldn't maintain a relationship when it consumed every sense and cell and fiber of his being, how would he not mess it with Reagan, someone he'd had a distant crush on and would never have expected to go anywhere? But it was going somewhere. It was going to New Orleans on a train, closer to love, but closer to heartbreak too, and further away from his friends and his home and his Jess.
Jess. It always comes back to Jess. Jess was the one he decided to believe in love again for and the only one where the heartbreak had been so worth it. He wasn't sure how ready he was to relinquish this heartbreaking power to Reagan, who was fun and smart and beautiful, but also much too cool for him and seemingly much less invested in their relationship. When she had asked him to go with her, she'd simply shrugged and said, "Hey, do you feel like coming to New Orleans with me?" Nothing more. Nothing to imply that she might like him just as much as he liked her. Nothing to convey the idea that this was as a big a deal to her as it was to him. And definitely nothing to assure him that heartbreak wasn't inevitable. But he was still going. Because maybe she'd be worth it. Maybe she'd be his new Jess.
Jess. Ugh Jess. Things were changing in the loft, and although he was glad for the new happiness in his and his best friends' lives, he hated how things seemed to be changing between him and Jess, especially after tonight. He'd missed her a lot when she had been away, and he'd welcomed Reagan as a distraction from how much he seemed to still need Jess around. A distraction from how the loft seemed much too dull without her random singing and waltzing around parading her pretty dresses and cheerful smile. A distraction from his mind accusing his heart of still being in love with her. And in all his confusion and musings about Reagan and Jess and life, he knew with immense clarity that- love or not- he never wanted to lose Jess, and that he needed to fix them. Even though he didn't know what was broken.
He hadn't gotten to talk to her after they were pulled out of that room, but she wore a complex combination of anger, sadness and confusion on her face, and he didn't know why. He wanted to ask her if she was okay and give her a hug, tell her everything that was going on and get advice, laugh and get drunk and just be partners-in-crime again, to be 'Nick and Jess- Double the Trouble' for once before he left.
All of a sudden, of all the things he wanted to do in his life, having a sleepover with Jess was number one on that list.
Padding to the kitchen, he threw some popcorn into the microwave and grabbed a packet of chips and a six-pack of beer, just as the popcorn began popping. He placed everything on the counter, and took the remaining 30 seconds on the microwave timer to craft his opening line.
"Hey Jess, wanna hang?" Gross, how cliché.
"Jess, I miss you." Okay no, too dangerous.
"Jessica Day, how are you today?" Nice. Ten points for rhyming, Nick Miller.
Congratulating himself on his wit, he poured the popcorn into a bowl and after re-grabbing all necessary party items, he walked to Jess' room and knocked (with great difficulty), careful to not spill the popcorn.