The Miller Brothers
Chapter Two / Chemistry
Chemistry (noun) – 1. the branch of science concerned with the substances of which matter is composed, the investigation of their properties and reactions, and the use of such reactions to form new substances
2 – the complex emotional or psychological interaction between people
March 13 / Chicago, Illinois.
"Nate, I should really go shower," Jess managed between giggles.
Nate pulled her back into bed and wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed into his body – it was familiar now: warm and sturdy. Hard. She ran her fingers up and down his arms and then she turned to face him. His eyes flickered open. Brown eyes like molten chocolate, caramel-flecked. Deep and dark.
So it had been a month of total contentment. She and Nate had started dating exclusively. She sat in on his lectures occasionally - listened to him speak passionately about chemical reactions, crack a joke or two, scrawl on the chalkboard. His students liked him a lot. In Chicago, the snow still lingered. They cosied up inside. She went to work, she met him for dinner, they took to his bed. Their sex was easy, slow, unhurried. She came every time - he was considerate like that.
It turned out that Nate and Nick lived together in a tiny two-bedroom apartment above The Wee Dram. The three of them would sometimes hang out – they would watch movies or play video games or just drink beer and talk about dumb stuff. Sometimes, Nick's best friend, Winston, would come over to hang out. Jess really liked Winston, although he got super pissed every time she beat him at Mario Kart. What could she say? Luigi was the way to go.
Sometimes, when Jess would sit across from Nick at breakfast, she had to laugh at herself. What had she said to Cece on her birthday, just a month ago? "I think I am totally in love with both of them"? That had definitely been her special cocktail talking. Nick was too spiky, too complicated. She couldn't figure him out. He was like a Rubik's Cube – a frustratingly attractive Rubik's Cube. She was tempted to ask Nate to grow out his stubble, but figured he'd probably know where she'd gotten the idea and assume she had the hots for his twin. Which she kind of did – after all, they were twins.
But no. Nick was tricksy. First off, he was grumpy more often than not. She could never figure out what triggered his funky moods. He never talked about his feelings, which brought her to the second thing – he was oddly over-emotional for someone who never really opened up or showed much sensitivity. He had actually cried more than she had when they had watched The Lion King. When she had shown him a picture of a baby deer, he had grinned goofily until he noticed her noticing him and adopted a stony, unimpressed expression. Thirdly, weirdo. That was Nick. Such a weirdo. She had caught him building a table in his room. The twins already had a table. He told her that he was going to sell 'bespoke' wooden furniture. She had laughed in his face. He had laughed in hers when he sold said table for forty dollars. Incidentally, that must have been enough for him to retire because she hadn't seen him with a tool in his hand since. Weirdo.
"I think I'm totally in love with both of them"? As if. Nate was her man. He was funny and charming and considerate. He was smart – almost too smart. In fact, she sometimes thought he was even too smart for her. He never really laughed at her dumb jokes or played along with her bits. He'd grant her an amused expression, sure, but she worried he was just humouring her. Maybe I should work on developing a more sophisticated sense of humour, she thought, like in Mad Men.
She brushed her fingers lightly against the soft fuzz of his arm hair. He was snoozing again. She nudged him. He had office hours on Saturday mornings.
"We should get up, Nate," Jess breathed lightly against his neck. He would look so much sexier with a hint of stubble, she thought, he just would.
"You go first," Nate muttered sleepily. That, at least, was something the Miller brothers shared: they were not great morning people. They were hardly ever ready before noon. Nate had only one 9AM lecture per week and it almost always broke him for the rest of the day.
Jess pulled on one of Nate's shirts (or was it Nick's? Nick was more into flannel) and headed for the bathroom. Expecting Nick to be at the bar (he always worked on Saturdays), Jess actually screamed when she saw him eating cereal at the breakfast bar.
His eyes landed at first on the shirt and then they drifted toward her bare legs for a second before he actively stopped himself and focused (a little too intensely) on her face.
"Sorry, man," Jess said apologetically, "I figured you'd be at work. Uh. Well. This is weird, isn't it? Ignore the pins, governor."
"The pins? You move to the fifties or something?" Nick said, scrunching up his face and frowning.
"I wish," Jess said wistfully.
"Weirdo." Nick muttered, taking a sip of orange juice.
"Bigger weirdo." Jess shot back.
Nate wandered out of his room, stretching. He settled his hand on Jess's shoulder.
"You showered already?" Nate asked, yawning.
"Nope. Not yet." Jess said.
"Mind if I go first?" Nate said sleepily, "Or better yet, you could come with me."
Nick made vomiting noises into his cereal.
"It's all yours, Mr. Miller," Jess said, "You'd just be late if I distracted you."
"Gross." Nick muttered.
"Don't be jealous, little brother," Nate said to Nick, "One day you'll find someone. Promise."
"Thanks for that," Nick said drily.
"What are you doing today? You score a weekend off or something?" Nate asked, reaching for his towel.
"Pretty much," Nick shrugged.
"Well, I got office hours this afternoon, so why don't you take care of our girl here?" Nate suggested.
Jess blinked, surprised at the suggestion. She and Nick rarely hung out on their own. She had no idea what they would even do for the day.
"Sure, whatever," Nick said, pushing his bowl aside.
"Are you sure?" Jess asked, feeling a little bit awkward, "I don't want to cramp your style, Nick."
"Impossible," Nate said, making his way to the bathroom, "If anything, you'd improve it."
…
Jessica Day walked through Nate's bedroom door and into the kitchen and Nick nearly choked on his cereal.
For one thing – that was his shirt. He had told Nate a million and one times that it was his shirt. His.
Number two – that was all she was wearing and damn it. Damn it.
He felt himself go hard.
He tried not to let himself feel bad about it. He had gotten hard-ons over weirder things before. Once, he had watched one of Winnie's girlfriends kneading dough to make bread and had gotten one (it was stringy, stringy dough – so pliable, so flexible). That had been weird. This - this was normal. It was a normal, healthy response to seeing a beautiful woman in his kitchen. A normal, healthy response to seeing his brother's girlfriend wearing nothing but his shirt. You are the worst, Miller, he told himself.
He had to admit - she was the kind of pretty that could blow someone away. Soft, blue, doe eyes and long, dark silky hair. Nate rarely brought girls to the bar – so Nick knew this girl was different. She was different. She wasn't Nate's type at all. He liked them smart, and while Jess was definitely smart, she was also goofy - and Nate didn't do goofy. His girlfriends were usually sensible and sarcastic. Jess was sweet and silly. That said, Jess certainly wasn't his type either. He'd said it before and he'd say it a million times: he was exclusively into bad girls. He liked girls who were mean to him. He liked girls who broke his heart and downed a shot of bourbon while doing it. There's no way he could like a girl like Jess. It would be too warm, like a bubble bath that never went cold.
Nate emerged from his room and spouted some nonsense about babysitting Jess for the day. Nick had to admit – he was happy Nate had suggested it. He got restless spending time alone. Jess had also flippantly mentioned something about joining a Creative Writing group that he secretly hoped she hadn't forgotten. He couldn't do something like that by himself – he'd choke. No, he needed Jess.
Jess tucked her hair behind her ears and regarded him thoughtfully. His shirt looked good on her, he had to say. He waited until Nate was finished up and Jess had set up camp in the shower before dumping his bowl in the sink.
Nick headed to his room. He had three distinct yet related thoughts. One - he still had a hard-on over his brother's girlfriend. Two - now he was fantasising about her. And three - this was a road that would surely lead to ruin.
…
"So," Nick said, "Pizza?"
"Sure," Jess shrugged.
She breathed in the crisp Chicago air as they passed The Wee Dram and tucked her hands in her pockets. Even with her mittens on, the tips of her fingers felt numb. She took a moment to miss the Los Angeles sunshine.
"This place does the best pizza," Nick was saying, "You like pepperoni? You like cheese? You like a little ham and pineapple? Yuck. Blech. I don't. But you gotta go for deep dish or - for real - you get kicked out of Chicago. Just kidding. But seriously, I will judge you harshly. Not really. But yeah, really. So like I said, this place does the best pizza."
Jess wondered how long one man could talk about pizza.
They took a window seat – Jess always thought pointing out interesting people and places from the window seat was a good way of starting conversations on first dates. Not that this was a first date. It wasn't. The same kind of rules applied though, Jess thought.
"So what do you fancy?" Nick asked, handing Jess a menu.
"I actually really want something sweet," Jess said, glancing at the menu, "Does this place do good desserts?"
"That depends. What kind of dessert do you like?" Nick asked, inspecting his own menu.
"I don't know. All kinds." Jess shrugged.
"Well, what's your favourite?" Nick turned to face her.
"Probably cupcakes or smiley face cookies or maybe something British like trifle or custard or Spotted Dick." Jess answered happily.
"Spotted Dick?" Nick repeated, scowling, "Okay, first, that's not a thing. And cupcakes? That's not a dessert, Jess. That's a snack food."
"I have cupcakes for dessert all the time." Jess insisted.
"Well I always eat cupcakes at snack time." Nick said.
"Snack time? Are you five years old, Nick?" Jess replied, rolling her eyes.
"Cupcakes aren't dessert," Nick went on, "They just aren't."
"Fine," Jess conceded, "Well, what's your favourite dessert?"
"Tiramisu." Nick said, enunciating every syllable as if it were the most sacred word on the planet.
"Why?" Jess asked.
"It's everything I enjoy in life. It's booze and it's coffee. It's sweet and decadent and dangerous. It's dirty and sexy." Nick explained passionately.
"Wow. You have a lot of feelings about tiramisu." Jess said, laughing.
"It is what it is," Nick said, smiling. He turned his attention back to the menu as the waitress approached.
"What can I get you?" The waitress asked, pulling a pad and pencil from her pocket.
"I'll get a slice of pepperoni and a slice of barbecue chicken," Nick paused, "And a- uh- a beer? I can get a beer at noon, right? That's allowed? It's the afternoon. It's a Saturday. Yeah. I'll have a beer. Please."
"You got it," The waitress replied, raising an eyebrow as she scribbled the order on the notepad, "And for yourself?"
"I will have a- let's see-" Jess pursed her lips, "I will have a tiramisu, please. And a water. And also a beer. Thank you."
Nick and Jess both looked ahead, out of the window, as the waitress walked away. They caught each other's gaze in the glass and both smirked before looking away.
…
"You're right. I admit. This is the food of the god's." Jess said, spooning the last of her tiramisu into her mouth and washing it down with a glug of beer.
"Told you," Nick nodded his head, "What do you want to do after this?"
"Wow, I don't know," Jess replied, looking out into the busy street, "Why don't we do something...different? Something neither of us have done before?"
"Like...parachuting?" Nick asked, finishing his beer.
"No," Jess replied.
"Race car driving? Apple picking? Art heist? Pirate ship? Mars?" Nick continued.
Jess continued looking out the window. Her eyes were drawn to a neon sign that read Fortune Telling with a flashing arrow pointing up a set of stairs.
"What about that?" Jess suggested excitedly, "Hey, Nick! Fortune telling!"
"Fortune telling?" Nick groaned, "I think pirate ship is more plausible."
"Let's go," Jess said, throwing down a note to cover the bill and heading for the door.
Nick had no choice but to follow her, though he felt the beer had gone to her head. They made their way across the street towards the staircase.
"Fortune telling is a load of nonsense," Nick said as he caught up with Jess, "I don't think you actually believe in this dumb psychic stuff, Jess."
"You believe in aliens, Nick." Jess reminded him, raising her eyebrows.
"Nate saw them come through the window and take me." Nick snapped.
"Nate was messing with you, you big goof." Jess replied.
"You're the goof you big goof." Nick muttered.
"And just so you know I don't think this 'dumb psychic stuff' is actually real," Jess explained, "The point of it is to see what they make you think of, you know? It's supposed to be...fun, Nick."
"No! I don't need some spooky old lady telling me that I'm going to die next Tuesday," Nick yelled, "It just isn't happening."
"You're scared she'll tell you that you're going to die?" Jess repeated. "What are you going to die from, Nick? Aliens again?"
"Maybe," Nick snapped, folding his arms, "That and I've always wondered whether my liver is actually working or not."
"Well, let's find out, Miller," Jess said, making her way up the stairs.
"No! Don't go up there alone!" Nick called after her, "Jess! Jess! Jessica!"
…
Nick eventually followed Jess up the stairs and found himself walking through a curtain of turquoise beads into a dark, circular room that sounded like chimes and smelled like smoke and cinnamon. Jess was already sitting opposite one of the scariest ladies he'd ever seen. He frowned and tried to back away slowly.
"Nicholas Miller," The fortune teller said in a soft drawl, extending a hand, "I have heard a lot about you from the spirit world."
"What?" Nick shouted, his eyes widening.
Her eyes pinned him against the wall for a second, and then she cackled.
"You were right," The fortune teller said to Jess, "That was fun."
"Sit down, Nick," Jess turned to look at him.
"So," The fortune teller said in a quiet, still voice, "Would you prefer me to read your hands or your cards?"
"How much is cards?" Nick asked.
"Twenty dollars each." The fortune teller replied drily.
"And hands?" Jess asked.
"Ten dollars each." The fortune teller answered.
Nick and Jess exchanged a look before they said, 'Hands' at the exact same time. When the fortune teller raised her eyebrows, they each handed over ten dollars. The fortune teller tucked the notes into her shawl.
The fortune teller regarded them curiously for a moment, then inhaled sharply.
"Perhaps we should do this separately." She said evenly, motioning towards the 'Private' room behind her.
"T-together or not at all," Nick said in a whisper as he reached for Jess's arm, terrified.
"Very well," The fortune teller nodded, "Together. Give me your hand, Jessica."
Jess upturned her palm and slowly offered it to the fortune teller. The woman took Jess's hand firmly and ran a thumb across the lines there.
"Your positive energy will secure you eventual happiness, there is no doubt about that," the fortune teller said in a bored voice, "But right now, I sense you are torn. Yes, you are definitely conflicted. I see. You are unable to choose between places. You are unable to choose between people. I sense you must make some difficult decisions soon."
"Oh," Jess replied, drawing back her hand. She swallowed. Difficult decisions? What did that mean?
The fortune teller then reached out and took Nick's hand, much to his discomfort. She inspected it and smiled immediately.
"You, however, know exactly what you want," She said, her eyes still on his palm, "You just don't know how to go after it. One day, you will know. That is certain. Now, what's this? There is someone in your life – someone who you love, but who makes you feel inferior. You look up to this person, but you feel like you are caught in their shadow."
Jess looked over at Nick, wondering how he would respond to what had been said.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," Nick said, rolling his eyes, "Just tell me how long I've got to live, lady."
The fortune teller let go of his hand and raised her eyebrows. Then, she turned and walked towards the back of the room.
"There is much that is still unknown," She said finally, "Be careful, children."
With those words, she slipped through the door marked 'Private'. After a second or two, music trickled into the room. She was obviously finished with them. Jess's eyes widened as she sat still in her seat. Nick turned to her and scoffed.
"What was that about, right?" Nick said, standing, "Should we ask for our money back or what?"
"That," Jess began, "Was terrifying. I would have preferred it if she'd told us we were going to die horrifically tomorrow."
"And what was that about me being caught in a shadow?" Nick said, throwing his arms up, "Was she writing a damn poem or something?"
"I don't know," Jess said quietly, "I should have listened to you, Nick. This was a dumb idea."
"Well, whatever," Nick said as they walked towards the exit, "Hey, listen – Nate will be finished in an hour or so. Why don't we get a drink and then go meet up with him?"
"That sounds good," Jess replied softly as she followed him down the staircase.
…
Nick and Jess stumbled back to the apartment at around 9 PM. They had stopped at a bar and drunk beer while they talked about robots and space and Harry Potter. Then, after a couple of hours bickering about who would be in Gryffindor and who wouldn't and having a competition to see who could find the Worst Song on the Jukebox (a game of their own invention), they tried to get the bartender to make a Jess cocktail. The bar didn't stock the same brand of rum, but Nick pointed out one that would work equally well. Then Nick decided he wanted to shake them up himself and tried to climb over the bar. Then they got kicked out.
On the way back, there was sorcery at play. They passed a cafe and noticed a sign for a Creative Writing group. It was casual, for amateurs and late at night on Wednesdays. They both drunkenly scribbled their name on the sign-up sheet. Nick wrote his name twice. They high fived.
As they entered the apartment gracelessly, Nate stirred.
He had been napping on the couch. It turned out his office hours had been relatively uneventful. There was no big essay due so students were mostly just complaining about lab times. He'd actually ducked out early and picked up cupcakes on his way home, hoping he and Jess could have a romantic afternoon together. The apartment was empty when he'd got back. He'd waited. Are they still out? Nate wondered. He wasn't the jealous type. He was just curious to know what they had gotten up to. They didn't seem to have much in common. Then again, it didn't matter. It was a good thing his brother was getting along with his girlfriend. What could be bad about that?
He checked his phone. No texts. No invitations. He shrugged and picked up his book. He waited. Night fell, and so did he. He couldn't get through the evenings without napping. So here he was. He woke up, confused. There were hushed whispers and giggles coming from the kitchen. He sat up, checked the time. Late. They had been out all day. He flicked the light on.
"Hey guys," Nate said sleepily, "What's up?"
"Did we wake you?" Jess asked. Her voice was thick, husky, intoxicated. "Nick is such a loudmouth."
"No, I mean- I must have drifted off," Nate replied, watching them. They were making sandwiches in the kitchen.
"I'm a loudmouth? What about your shrill giggling, Jess?" Nick said clumsily, "You could wake a herd of cattle, you foghorn."
"Foghorn?" Jess repeated, "You practically fell through the door."
"You just know everything don't you?" Nick said, frowning. He took a bite of his sandwich.
"More than you, Miller," Jess retorted.
"So, did you guys have fun?" Nate asked.
Jess ran up to him and kissed him on the lips. She tasted like rum and cream. She looked at him and her gaze travelled down his face carefully, hungrily.
"We had so much fun, Nate," Jess told him, "We had dessert for lunch and we saw a fortune teller who told us we're both going to die on Tuesday and we went to a bar and the bartender gave us Jess cocktails. Then we got kicked out because Nick is the absolute worst. Oh yeah – we also joined a Creative Writing group. Hey – Nick! Maybe we should start writing now. Like, drunk writing? So rock and roll, right?"
"That sounds-" Nate started.
"I can't, Jess," Nick interrupted, putting his head in his hands, "I need to watch Youtube in bed with my sandwich and then sleep for twelve hours and then throw up."
"You lightweight, Nick," Jess said accusingly. She turned to face Nate again and smiled as Nick trudged off to bed.
Nate smiled back.
Nate smiled back, but he knew it when he saw it. He was an expert in such matters, wasn't he?
Nate carried Jess to his bed and waited until she fell asleep before heading to the lounge and attempting to read more of his book. He hoped he was wrong because he wasn't sure what to do if he was right.